#Because Entrepreneurs Are People Too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 2 months ago

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GIVE IT TO HER LIKE A MAN!

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｡𖦹°‧➵ pair: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

｡𖦹°‧➵ wc: 5.1k

｡𖦹°‧➵ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no outbreak au, no ellie, joel’s pov, swearing, age gap (52/23), semi-public sex (more of a semi-public ALMOST over the pants handjob?), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, spit kink, degradation, pussy spanking, creampie, fucking in your childhood bedroom RAAAHHH, one (1) single line about joel wanting to slap you, one (1) single use of the word daddy, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡𖦹°‧➵ nat’s note: hi babies! i'm back! did you miss me? cause i missed you and oh em gee i'm so excited to be rejoining the party. this actually wasn't what i planned on posting but the angsty joel fic is kicking my ass so hard that i had to take a break from it. i just needed to word vomit some raunchy, freak-nasty porn to cleanse my palate! i don’t normally go for the dbf trope but it's just so joel i couldn't not dip my feet in these waters. it's also more like dad's-close-but-distant-acquaintance-joel because in my head that man has little to no friends honestly. hope you love it, mwah!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel gives the best graduation gifts...

Joel isn’t the type to get invited to these kinds of things.

Graduation parties for Ivy League brats. Champagne in fancy crystal flutes and catered hors d'oeuvres getting passed around on silver trays. Men in loafers and pastel polos calling each other “old buddy” without any irony. It’s a far cry from his usual crowd—his mangy old t-shirt and stained blue jeans stick out in the place like a damn sore thumb.

The invitation came from a distant friend, someone he used to work with before his career took him in an entirely different, much shiner direction. He was here more as a favor than anything else. Tommy’s been worried about him, says he needs to get out more.

“Meet some new people, drink a few beers.” He’d said with his hand clasped on Joel’s shoulder. “It ain’t healthy to spend every weekend fixin’ shit around the house, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t see the problem. He’s fine the way he is. But somehow, he still got roped into going when he could have used any excuse to pull out at the last second. He could have faked sick, faked busy, faked like he had anything else to do besides sit at a fancy oak table on a back porch bigger than the whole first story of his house, decorated in Yale blue balloons and streamers.

He regretted giving into Tommy the second he pulled up in the driveway—a too-big Craftsman style place in West Lake Hills, all clean laid brick and perfectly manicured lawns. Joel couldn’t for the life of him remember why he said yes in the first place. Maybe it was the guilt of worrying his brother. Maybe for the decent catered food and overpriced beers he knew would be there when he first got the address.

What he hadn’t expected—what hit him in the goddamn chest when the door swung open after he knocked—was you.

And Christ, did you look smug about it.

It had been months ago. The only reason Joel was even in Connecticut was to meet with a client, a big time East Coast entrepreneur who wanted a new add on to his ten car garage and was fine slinging around the money to pay for a round-trip flight and a cushy hotel room.

He hadn’t planned on going to the bar that night, but after hours of back-and-forth about permits and material costs, he needed a drink. Just one, maybe two—enough to take the edge off before heading back to the hotel.

It was a shitty little dive about ten minutes from where he was staying. The beer was cold, the lights were low, and he wasn’t supposed to be making decisions with his little head. But then he saw you across the way, right in the middle of the dancefloor.

You were in a circle with a few other girls, your dress riding up higher and higher each time you’d roll your hips to the heavy bass blaring from the overhead speakers.

Joel watched you like that for a while, leaned up against the bar lazily sipping at his beer. He hadn’t planned on doing anything about it, just sat there and enjoyed the view. But you’d caught him looking, and instead of turning away and pretending not to notice, you’d smirked.

Joel should have known right then that he was in trouble.

It wasn’t long before you left your little group and made your way over, slipping on the stool beside him like you belonged there, like you’d already made your mind up about what was going to happen next. You’d leaned in close, close enough for him to catch the scent of whatever perfume you’d rolled over your throat before heading out—something rich and heady that damn near made his head spin.

“Hey, cowboy.” You’d said with a tilt of your head, the long column of your neck dewy with a light sheen of sweat he wanted to feel under his tongue. “You’ve been watching me?”

There was no accusation in your voice, just a quiet sort of amusement, like you already knew the answer.

Joel had huffed a laugh, he didn’t see the point of denying it. He was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. “Yeah.” He’d admitted, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting it down. “What about it?”

Your eyes dropped down the length of his body, studying him, and he’d let you. Let you take your time looking, even as heat crawled up the back of his neck.

“Buy me a drink?” You’d asked, smiling up at him like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.

That was all it took.

One drink turned into two, which turned into three, and then you were leaning into his space like you were made to be there. Your index finger teasingly tracing along the collar of his shirt as you whispered something filthy in his ear that had all the blood in his brain rushing down south.

Joel really shouldn’t have let it go any further than some goddamn footsie under the bar and a few dirty words whispered over the rims of shiny glasses, he was too old for shit like that. But you were just so damn tempting—confident and sharp and pretty as all hell.

Before Joel knew it he had you pressed up against the side of his truck, giggling into his mouth, fingers tugging at his belt like you couldn't get it off fast enough. You’d tasted like the fruity cocktails he bought you and something sweeter underneath, something distinctly you, and Joel had to have more.

You let him have it too—fisting his shirt and dragging him into the backseat without a care in the world, all eager hands and breathless laughter as you straddled his lap.

It was supposed to be just that. A reckless decision with a pretty young thing as the cherry on top of his trip. A one-night deal he’d let himself have because, fuck, it had been a long time since someone looked at him like that.

Joel tried his damndest to think how he should’ve, tried not to let some one off fuck turn him all sorts of ass backwards. He tried his damndest to boot you out of his mind the next morning when he was boarding the flight back to Austin—but you stuck anyway, like a burr in his goddamn brain.

The way you’d looked sprawled out under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, lips parted, or the way you’d moaned his name like it was a prayer you needed him to hear. The way you’d rode him nice and slow, dragging your nails down his chest just to watch him shudder. The way you’d kissed him after, lazy and sweet, before sneaking off into the night like a goddamn thief.

Joel could've sworn he saw God that night, a smudged silhouette in the fogged up windows of his truck.

And now you’re here, standing in the doorway of some polished, high society home, looking like sin wrapped up in tulle and pearls.

Joel wasn’t a man who spooked easy, but seeing you again, surrounded by people who had no goddamn idea what you’d let him do to you in the backseat of his truck all those months ago, knocked him on his ass harder than a sucker punch.

The recognition was damn near instant, your eyes shining just as much as the sparkly sash that read “GRAD!” in big glittery letters. The initial shock gave way to a tiny, secret smile as your gaze slid up and down his body shamelessly, like this was some kind of funny inside joke.

Joel was seconds away from turning tail, walking back down your ridiculously long driveway and getting in his truck to get the hell out of there, but then your father was walking up behind you with a big grin on his face. He clapped Joel on the shoulder roughly and introduced his “Old buddy Joel Miller from his blue-collar days!”

You were all coy smiles and wide eyes. A sugared, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Thank you for coming…” passing through your glossy lips.

The same lips that left shiny red smudges along the skin of his cock when you slid him down your throat, peering up at him with glassy eyes. The memory alone was enough to get heat stirring deep in his gut, and the way you looked at him now—all demure and polished, like you were some angelic scholar fresh off a podium—only made it worse.

Joel is too damn old for this.

“Very top of her class,” your father boasts, swishing his beer bottle through the air towards you flippantly. “Can you believe it? Just think of what we were doing at her age, brother. She sure as hell didn’t get any brains from me, that’s all her mother.”

Joel tries to chuckle with him, but it sounds strained, forced. He keeps his eyes facing forward, knee bouncing restlessly under the table. You’re looking at him again, hot and persistent against the side of his face. The heavy weight of your gaze practically begging him to look back. He doesn’t.

This dinner is it’s own form of torture, because of course, you just had to sit in the empty seat next to Joel—close enough that he can feel your knee bump up against his every few minutes.

He’s done a good job avoiding you until now, always walking the other direction when you waltz into the same room, not making eye contact when your gaze would sweep over the crowd hoping to catch his, trying for once in his life to be a good man.

A good man that suffers through this damn party without doing something he'll regret, that leaves at the end of the night and never has to see you again.

“Yeah,” he says, nervously starting to pick at the label of his own beer. Some snobby, imported New England brewery, probably sixty bucks a six-pack. “Good times.”

Joel can see you lean forward out of the corner of his eye, the neckline of your dress sliding down an inch as you stare at him, attention rapt. “What were you like back then, Mr. Miller?”

Joel nearly winces, his fingers tightening around the neck of his beer hard enough to turn the skin around his knuckles white.

‘Mr. Miller’ echoes in his ears lewdly, blaring like church bells. Your voice is nothing but a honey-sweet mockery, so syrupy he can nearly feel it trickling down his throat to add to the warmth settling low in his stomach.

Your father snorts over the lip of his bottle, answering you before Joel could open his mouth. “Joel didn’t go to college, honey. He went into the trades right after graduation,” he takes a long sip, Joel feels your knee bump against his again. “That’s how we met.”

You hum, nodding your head languidly. “You’re an architect too?”

Joel shakes his head, not looking at you as he answers. “Carpenter.”

Your father launches into some story about his old work days with Joel, about how back in the day, they were “real men” with “real jobs,” but Joel can barely process any of it. He nods along absently, lets out some half-hearted chuckles when he needs to.

Joel nearly puts his knee through the table when he feels your barefoot brush up against his ankle, hiking his jeans up ever so slightly. He shoots you a glare as subtly as he can.

It’s a look so sharp, so warning, that it should be enough to make you back the hell off from whatever game you’re playing. You’re not even looking at him anymore, eyes glued to your father as you nod along to whatever story he’s telling now.

But there’s a knowing little smile on your lips as your hand creeps beneath the table and falls into his lap, the pads of your fingers pressing against the inside of his thigh.

Joel goes still. Rigid as his breath catches on a sharp inhale.

Christ, you’re trying to kill him.

Your father’s voice pulls him out of the silent panic and heavy arousal waging a war inside of him. “How’s business, Joel?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. “You and Tommy still running things at a hundred miles a minute?”

Joel barely registers the question as your hand inches higher and higher. He can hear his own pulse pounding in his throat, in his chest, in his cock, already half-hard in his boxers from some goddamn heavy petting like a wet behind the ears teenager.

“Yeah, we–” Joel pauses, willing his voice to steady with a quick cough to clear his throat. “We’ve been pretty busy with Summer rollin' around.”

Your father hums in agreement, cracking open another beer. “Of course, my schedule’s been a killer too this season,” he brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Joel are in the same boat. Only your fathers boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing for blue-print meetings with big shot celebrities and architectural digest interviews. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow stroke, your palm grinding roughly over the tip through the tented denim.

“Yes, daddy.”

Your voice has gone all light and airy around the edges, almost melodic as it buries itself in Joel’s ears. At first, Joel thinks you’re talking to your father, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re looking at him—your eyes half-lidded and sparkling with something dangerous as your fingers tug at the tab of his zipper.

Joel’s hand flies to your wrist, squeezing tight enough to stop your pawing at his now fully hard cock. “Alright if I use your bathroom?” he asks sharply, his voice a little too loud. He tosses your hand away and stands abruptly from his chair before he’s got an answer.

“Of course,” your father says easily, thankfully not noticing the tension at the table, or the way Joel’s trying to subtly hold his hands over his crotch. He turns his attention towards you, “Would you show Joel where the downstairs bathroom is, honey?”

Your smile only widens as you slip your sandal on and calmly stand from your own chair. “Sure,” you say breezily, but you’re not looking at your father, dark eyes still glued to Joel’s. “Follow me.”

The flowy fabric of your dress swishes behind you as you walk through the yard, Joel hot on your heels. He waits until you're both in the house, stepping through the open sliding glass door and out of view before his hand flies to your arm and squeezes hard.

Joel hears you wince softly, but you don’t try to fight your way out of his grip. He leans down closer, his lips inches away from your ear. His voice is low and rough as he grits out, “Take me to your room, now.”

You lead him through the kitchen and up the stairs silently, but Joel can still see the smug smile on your lips as you turn the corner. The need to slap that bratty shit right off your face wracks through him like thunder, anger burning hotter in his chest with every step.

You push the door to your bedroom open and step inside, barely turning to face him before Joel slams the door shut behind him and stalks past you. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of rage and want as he stares you down.

“Do you think this is a goddamn game?” His voice is teeming with fury, the calm facade he scarcely maintained at dinner now entirely gone. “That you can do whatever the hell you please because your Daddy’s sittin' across from you?”

You bite your bottom lip, leaning against the door with your arms crossed behind your back coyly. “You didn’t bring me a present.”

It’s a taunt if Joel’s ever heard one, and it finally breaks him.

He crosses the room in three large strides, pinning you against the door. His hands on either side of your head, caging you in. Joel cranes his neck down, his face inches away from yours. He can smell your perfume this close, it’s different than what you wore at the bar—something soft and girly and sweet that has his cock straining in his boxer.

“You’re real fuckin' proud of yourself aren’t you?” he spits roughly, watching the way your pupils dilate, eyes going glossy under his intensity. “Does your old man know how much of a tramp his precious little baby girl is? That she’s got such a greedy fuckin' pussy she can’t help herself from rubbin' his buddy Joel’s cock under the table like a desperate slut.”

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly, all the attitude draining from you at the drop of a hat the second he gets a little mean. Your eyes are stuck on his lips and, after a beat, you start leaning in, like you’ll die if you don’t kiss him.

Joel stops you with a hand fisted in your hair, keeping you still a few centimeters away from his lips. A pitiful whine falls from your slack mouth, wide eyes flicking back up to meet his with a pleading look.

“You want me to kiss you, princess?” he asks, mean and condescending. Your breath puffs over his lips, hot and needy as you nod your head as best you can. Joel laughs, dark and cool as he shakes his head slowly. “Whores like you don’t get kissed baby, they get fucked.”

It does something to you—Joel can see it in the way your lashes flutter, in the way your thighs press together, like you can feel his words between your legs. He watches the rise and fall of your chest quicken, the way your lips part as a little breathless sound escapes them, and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Desperate. Squirming. Ready to let him ruin you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, low and almost reverent, but the wicked curl of his lips betrays the softness in his tone. “Bet you’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

You nod, your chest rising up to press against his with every breath.

“Words,” he demands, voice sharp as a needle. Your thighs twitch at the sound of it.

“Yes,” you breathe shakily. “I’ve been wet since you got here.”

That has Joel groaning, jaw ticking as his cock twitches heavily in his boxers, pre-come oozing into the cotton.

He doesn’t waste another second. He drops your hair to grab your shoulders, pulling and pushing until you’re tumbling onto your old bed. You let out a sharp gasp as your back hits the mattress, the force of it bouncing you a few times.

Joel looms over you, watching you, finally letting himself get a good look at the picture you make. Splayed across dainty floral sheets, chest heaving, staring up at him with need written all over your pretty face. It practically pumps off of you in waves, he can almost taste it.

Without another word, Joel reaches for his belt, his heavy gaze never leaving yours. The metal of his buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the room, underscored by the quick pants of your breath. It snaps with how hard he yanks it out of his belt loops, the leather cracking in the air menacingly.

"You wanted this," Joel mutters, popping the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a sharp hiss. "You practically fuckin’ begged for it."

You make a desperate little sound at the sight of his cock finally being freed from the confines of his jeans—thick, heavy, and leaking when it slaps against his stomach. Your legs spread wider like an offering, like you need it in you now.

Joel huffs out a laugh, grabbing your ankle and yanking you down the bed, making you squeak in surprise. He climbs on the mattress, his body completely blanketing yours so you couldn’t move if you wanted to.

His hand drags down your body, over the swell of your breasts, over your ribs, the curve of your hip, until he’s gripping the hem of your dress. Joel slips his hand under the skirt, rough palms gliding up the soft skin of your thighs before gripping the meat of them hard enough to bruise.

The thought of you finding the marks tomorrow, pretty shades of purple and yellow branding your skin as a reminder of this moment, of what Joel did to you—it makes his stomach flip with a sick thrill.

It doesn’t take much for Joel to push the bunched fabric around your hips the rest of the way up, exposing the barely-there scrap of lace covering you.

He makes a sound low in his throat when he sees the little damp spot blooming along the powder blue fabric. “So fuckin’ needy,” he mutters, tracing his middle finger along the wet seam of your pussy, featherlight, teasing. “Can’t even sit through one damn dinner without beggin’ for my attention like a two-bit truck stop whore.”

You nod frantically, lips trembling, pupils blown wide as you blink up at him.

Joel tsks mockingly, raising his palm to give your clothed pussy a sharp slap that has you crying out. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, Joel.”

Your voice is so soft, so wrecked. And Joel feels himself get impossibly harder, his cock throbbing where it’s pressed against your stomach, blurting pre-come onto the delicate pink tulle of your dress. He can hardly wait any longer.

Joel hooks a finger into the leg of your panties, dragging them down hard enough that he hears a rip. He can’t find it in himself to care, he just pulls them far enough that they pool around your ankles uselessly.

He finally takes himself in his hand so he can drag his cock through the wet mess of your pussy, bumping it up against your hole but not giving you a damn inch. A devastating noise falls from your lips, slow and sweet as molasses, your hips buck up off the mattress, trying to take him in. He presses one heavy hand down on your stomach, keeping you still.

“Ask me for it,” Joel whispers darkly, slapping the head over your glistening clit. “Beg for my cock.”

Your fingers curl into the sheets, frustration and desire burning in the inky black of your pupils. “Please, Joel. It’s all I can think about, can only think about you,” you ramble senseslessly, voice breathless. “About you fucking me. About your cock stretching me open. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

Fuck, he loves hearing you beg.

Joel grips your hips, holding you steady as he presses inside, slow at first, just enough to make you gasp, enough to let you feel how thick he is stretching you open. He curses, head falling forward as he watches himself disappear inside you inch by inch.

Your hands scramble along the length of his back, nails scratching uselessly as you try to adjust to the sudden fullness. Joel knows he’s too big, the stretch too much all at once without prep. He knows it. He just doesn’t give a damn.

“I know, it’s a big stretch ain’t it?” Joel coos, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips. “You can still take it, darlin’. It’s what you wanted, wanted me to lose my goddamn mind and ruin this sweet little pussy.”

You nod desperately, a loud cry bursting from your chest as he pulls you back until his hips are flush with your ass. Your velvety heat feels scalding around him, snug and perfect, like it was made for him—made for his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he stays there for a beat, buried to the hilt—forcing you really feel the full, aching stretch before he starts to move. He drags his cock out to the tip, almost all the way, before slamming forward again, knocking the breath from your lungs. “That’s it—take it all, just like that.”

Joel sets a brutal pace, fucking you so deep he swears he must be in your goddamn guts. His grip is merciless, his fingers digging into your hips as he uses them to pull you back against him, meeting every punishing thrust. The dirty sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with the slick squelch of your pussy as it tries to suck him back in each time he pulls out, the pretty soft gasps and moans you’re struggling to keep quiet the cherry on top of it all.

It’s so loud, a symphony of lewd sounds bouncing off the walls enough that Joel would be worried that someone might overhear if your house wasn’t such a maze.

Joel watches you writhe beneath him, your back arching, hands grasping at his shoulders, his arms, his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as he fucks into you with ruthless precision. Every thrust sends a shockwave through your body, makes your breath hitch, your legs trembling where they’re locked tight around his waist.

“Poor thing,” he mutters, voice a low rasp in your ear. “Too dumb to talk now, huh? Just layin’ here, takin’ it like a good little whore.”

Your eyes roll back in your head when he tilts his hips, the new angle forcing his cock to rub up against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Joel–”

Joel leans over you, breath hot against your ear as he mutters, “This what you needed, baby? Needed Daddy’s friend to hike your pretty dress up and fuck you good and hard like this?” He speeds his hips up fast enough to get the bed shaking on its frame. “Actin’ like a spoiled little brat all night just so I’d drag you up here and teach you some fuckin’ manners?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck—” Your words slur together, breathy and high-pitched, your fingers twisting in his hair as he keeps up that relentless pace.

Joel reaches up to snatch your jaw in a tight grip, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. “Open your mouth,” he growls, fingers digging into the meat of your cheeks meanly. When you don’t, too fucked out of your mind to listen, he shakes your head back and forth like a bad dog. “Open it.”

The command breaks through the pleasure filled haze clouding your mind, and your mouth falls open obediently. Your slick lips parting enough for Joel to see the enticing pink of your tongue. A groan claws its way out from deep in his chest, and he leans down close to spit into your mouth.

Your moan is a high, choked whine as your eyes flutter shut, your pussy squeezing around his cock impossibly tighter.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ swallow,” he says, fucking into your clenching heat harder. “Hold it right there.”

You open your eyes to stare up at him like he’s some kind of God, your lashes clumped together and glossy with unshed tears—gaze glazed over with a kind of bliss that makes something dark and satisfied wriggle to life in his chest.

“Good girl,” he mutters, barely above a whisper, but the words hit you like a sack of bricks. Your walls squeeze around him, and he groans low in his chest. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you even wider so he can watch the way his cock disappears into your puffy pussy, shining with your slick every time he pulls out. “Look at that. Fuckin’ made to take cock, aren’t you?”

You moan around closed lips, nails digging little crescent moons into his shoulders so hard that he can feel his shirt ripping under the force of it. Joel can tell you’re getting close, your whole body trembling violently as the coil of your orgasm winds tighter and tighter.

“Go ahead and swallow for me, baby girl.” Joel needs to hear you, needs to hear you say his name when you come on his cock. “Wanna hear that pretty voice.”

The sound of you swallowing is music to Joel’s ears, his hips stuttering as he watches your throat work.

“Please,” you gasp, fat crocodile tears rolling down your cheeks. “Need to come, need you to make me—”

“Yes,” he hisses, his thrusts turning sloppy for a beat before he regains his rhythm. “You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna soak my cock nice and good?”

His words push you right over the edge. Your entire body tenses, pleasure rolling through you in a white-hot wave as your climax crashes over you, stealing your breath. You sob Joel’s name, thighs shaking uncontrollably, body shuddering beneath him as you clench down so fucking tight he can barely move.

Joel groans, his jaw going slack as he watches you fall apart, losing himself in the feel of your pussy milking his cock. He grits his teeth, hips snapping erratically as he chases his own release.

“Fuck—gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Gonna fuck you full of me, make you mine.”

With one last thrust, Joel spills inside of you. He buries himself as deep as he can go, warmth flooding your core as spurt after spurt of come paints your insides, thick and hot. His body shakes with the force of it, a deep, guttural moan falling from his lips as he rides out his orgasm.

Joel just stays there, panting, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, both of you are too overwhelmed to move. You just lay on the mattress tangled together in the aftermath, breaths mingling, bodies slick with sweat. Joel smooths his hands up your sides, grounding himself as you both come down from the highs of ecstasy.

When you finally stop shaking, Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, to take in the wrecked, spent look on your face. He brushes his knuckles over your sweaty cheek, softer than before. “Still think I didn’t bring you a present?”

You let out an amused huff, pushing your hands up under the back of his shirt so you can trace the column of his spine with gentle fingers. “Trust me, it’s the only present I’m getting that’ll be worth a damn. Money can’t buy this, Miller.”

Joel chuckles, low and smooth as warmth blooms in his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You earned it, baby.”

mini nat's note: thank you so much for reading! mwah.

4K notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 8 months ago

Note

Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do

Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????

Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob

I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future

I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children

for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother

as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind

I can see him with... maybe two kids

he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going

he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind

Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it

if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep

but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)

parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be

he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy

the hardest part?

pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!

he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models

he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...

and he is so overprotective

he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him

but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal

he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually

P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(

kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it

regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway

when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it

he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked

it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care

he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!

he is so proud

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too

he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?

he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)

he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything

I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)

he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them

just... gentler, this time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot

joking (kind of)

I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!

I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant

whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)

he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3

as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really

I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game

it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...

Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously

he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter

and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically

Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)

but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

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a beautiful little lie. [chapter 2] l Harry Castillo

Summary: you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), some wine, almost kiss, mentioning ex-boyfriend, Reader feels insecure

A/N: I'm giving you this chapter. Be gentle with me, please. I don't have much to say, except that I'd like to thank every single person who left a sign under the first chapter. I was afraid to write this, but with you it's somehow easier. Thank you,

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

"Harry asked about you." Susan leaned out from behind the monitor and looked at you over her glasses. "You're fifteen minutes late."

"I know!" you groaned, throwing your bag on the desk. "The whole street was jammed. I was texting him."

"I know, he told me. But he asked anyway." she smiled, reaching for the cup of coffee you brought her. "Thank you, honey. You know, that guy would die without you. Me too."

“He'll be fine. He's Harry Castillo, he'll always be fine.” You replied, trying to calm your breathing and smoothing your skirt with your hand. “How do I look?”

“Like you ran three blocks to get here.”

“I did!” you laughed, glancing toward the glass doors leading to Harry’s office. “Okay, wish us luck.”

You entered Mr. Castillo's large office and immediately noticed him talking on the phone, leaning against one of the windows. He nodded to you in greeting without interrupting the conversation, then pointed to the folder lying on his desk. You quickly put it in your bag.

“I could send a car for you,” he said, pocketing his phone, frowning. “Did you run here?”

“A lot of people run in the morning. Are we ready? Mr. McCullen should be in his office in an hour.”

Harry took his jacket off the chair and put it on. You quickly walked over to him and straightened his tie. "I'm ready now."

The offer had landed on Castillo's desk out of the blue, but it was so good it piqued his interest. Mr. McCullen's company was about to be sold, and Harry was considering buying it. You didn't have much time to prepare, since your sources told you there were a lot of companies interested.

However, everything was going to go your way that day. You had arrived at the company building early, so you quickly mumbled, "I have to go to the bathroom," and disappeared down one of the hallways leading from the conference room.

You were already washing your hands when you heard a quiet sob in one of the toilets. You anxiously wiped your hands on a paper towel and cleared your throat. "Excuse me? Is everything okay?"

The sobbing came from the last stall, where you noticed a pair of shapely legs in red heels. "Ummm... Do you need anything? A tampon or a tissue?"

The stall door opened and a young girl with swollen eyes stepped out. She sniffled and blew her nose into the toilet paper she was holding. “You can’t help me…” she said in a hoarse voice. “Until you find me a new job.”

"Oh! You know... You shouldn't worry so much about work, it's just..." you started, but the girl rolled her eyes. You clearly didn't understand her at all.

“I should care, because I’m about to lose my job!” she groaned. “I’m only working for this company until the boss closes this stupid deal, and then he’s moving to Los Angeles. That idiot got himself into so much debt…” she shook her head. A cold chill ran down your arms.

"What are you talking about?" you asked. "Not Mr. McCullen, right?"

She leaned against the counter and wiped her red nose, then crossed her arms over her chest. “His company is a bottomless pit. He’s desperate to sell it, and the guy buying it is a fucking idiot. He doesn’t even know what he’s signing up for.”

It was your second run of the day, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway as you made your way to the conference room, but then your heart stopped. Harry was already sitting inside with two other men.

Everyone was chatting happily, or so it seemed to you, because the men were sitting with their backs to you, and all you could see was your boss's face.

"You can't go in there now." the female voice rang out as you grabbed the door handle.

“I’m Mr. Castillo’s assistant,” you said firmly, but the woman sitting behind the desk just tilted her head, unimpressed, looking you up and down appraisingly.

"I don't care. I said you can't go in there."

You huffed angrily and reached into your bag. You clenched your hand around your phone and a moment later you were dialing Harry's number. He must have felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket because he looked up and saw you behind the glass wall. He shook his head slightly.

“Shit!” you hissed. You had to think of something. You pulled out your folder and grabbed the first sheet of paper, then pulled out a pen.

Harry's brown eyes widened when he saw the piece of paper in your hands that said "BULLSHIT! DEBTS!"

one year earlier

You glanced around the hallway and took a deep breath, clutching your briefcase like it was a lifeline. The pretty brunette sitting across from you smiled, but you were so nervous you could barely lift the corners of your mouth.

How were you supposed to compete with them? Each of the five women waiting with you outside the glass doors to Mr. Castillo's office was simply beautiful and certainly had excellent references. And you? Your inner critic certainly had her hands full.

An hour passed, a very long hour. You were alone now, and the woman sitting behind the monitor glanced at you from time to time.

"He won't eat you alive, sweetie." she finally said.

"Huh?" you looked up, looking at her with fear. "You think so?"

"I've been working for him for a few years now. Just be yourself, girl."

You looked down at your nervously twisted fingers. It wasn't good advice.

Finally the girl came out of the office and you were invited in. The office was spacious and brightly lit by the rays of the setting sun. Behind the solid desk you saw a man, he was already over forty years old, broad shoulders, a prominent nose and a charming smile. He looked up from the paper and you saw beautiful brown eyes.

Your name flowed from his lips. "Please take a seat, it won't take long."

You sat on the edge of the chair feeling like your soul had already left your body. Mr. Castillo was looking at what must have been your job application.

"You don't have much experience." he said, there was no disapproval in it, more curiosity. "Why did you decide to apply?"

You barely recognized your voice when you spoke. "Can I be honest?"

Mr. Castillo made a gesture with his hand as if he was encouraging you to do so.

"I need a job. I know I don't have much experience as an assistant, not as much as previous candidates, I'm sure, but it's either that or going back to customer service."

"Mhm." he mumbled, rubbing his chin with his finger.

“Mr. Castillo.” Brown eyes focused on you again. “You’re looking for an assistant. I spent over an hour outside your office and saw other candidates. They’re beautiful women with references, and I understand that I can’t compete with them, but… I’m hardworking, loyal, and a quick learner. If you give me a chance, I assure you that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re not disappointed.”

“I like your energy,” Castillo murmured, leaning back in his leather chair.

“Yeah? It’s more like desperation.”

He chuckled, and you finally smiled back. You stared at each other for a few seconds until Castillo finally closed the folder in front of him and reached for his phone, signaling that the conversation was over.

"Thank you for giving me your time." he said politely. "We'll call you back."

You nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you and goodbye,” before quickly leaving the office, your legs feeling like jelly. The walk to the elevator wasn’t memorable, nor was the entire ride down.

You knew you had fucked up this interview. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wanted to wait until you were outside the building to cry. As you stood on the sidewalk, you took a deep breath and a sob tore itself from your throat. You felt pathetic, small, and weak. What were you even thinking, coming here, standing in front of this office? Fuck. You idiot.

The phone in your pocket vibrated and you rolled your eyes reaching for it, you couldn't even cry in peace anymore.

"Yes?" you said, not caring how you sounded.

“Hello, this is Harry Castillo. We spoke a few minutes ago.” A pleasant male voice spoke on the other end, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Would you be interested in starting work on Monday?”

“Mrs. Diane Kruger-Waltz will be here next week. She would like to meet with you.”

Harry handed you a glass of wine and sat down on the couch next to you with a quiet sigh. “Okay, let me know when she’s available. We’ll work it out.”

You took a sip and set the glass down on the small coffee table, then quickly typed something on your computer. It was a pleasant, albeit rainy evening. After returning from Mr. McCullen's, Harry met with his accountants, who confirmed the information you had received in the ladies' room.

You both breathed a sigh of relief, this deal would cost the company millions and you didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be.

To celebrate this small success, if you could call it that, Castillo made a call to one of the best restaurants and ordered a takeaway. They didn't do that, but they made an exception for their regular customer. And then both of you, avoiding the slowly intensifying rain, hid on the couch in his spacious living room.

"Done." You announced, closing your laptop and putting it aside. "You should get your suit from the cleaners tomorrow morning. The sponsors' party starts at six in the afternoon, so you should be able to make it."

"I'll pick you up twenty minutes early, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready."

You sighed quietly and rubbed your forehead with your hand. It had been a long and hectic day. No wonder Harry had changed into sweatpants in search of comfort in his own apartment. Your clothes suddenly seemed extremely uncomfortable to you.

"What's going on?" he asked, feeling and seeing you shift nervously.

"Nothing. It's just... I'm tired, you know, every seam in my clothes irritates me." You mumbled.

"I already told you to keep something more comfortable at my place." you rolled your eyes and Harry chuckled "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not keeping my clothes in the boss's apartment." you replied, taking a sip of cold wine "That's unprofessional."

"Now this," he pointed at himself and you sitting on his couch, "that's professional, right?"

"Oh, never mind." you snorted but couldn't hide your smile and after a moment Harry also chuckled.

He liked spending time with you. There was something about it that made him feel free, like he could take off his tie and just be himself. Yes, he was a mature man, he knew his worth, but with you, a lot of things just seemed easier. Like he didn't have to pretend to follow rules and regulations. He didn't have that with other employees, only with you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You already did." you replied, and seeing his face you lightly nudged him in the shoulder "Sure, ask."

"What was between you and Daniel? Of course, if you don't want to, you don't have to answer, but I was wondering... You seemed really upset after you met him."

You were silent for a moment and Harry thought that he might have crossed some line. Maybe the question was too intimate, too personal. But finally he heard your voice.

"We met through mutual friends. He started as a lawyer, quickly climbing the career ladder. I did my own thing, you know, but I wasn't as flashy as he was. We were together for two years, I think..." you closed your eyes, wrinkling your nose slightly as if you wanted to remember something, Harry was silent, watching you

"I was really in love. I supported him in everything he did, I practiced what he was supposed to say with him, ironed his shirts and stuff like that. I totally gave myself to him... At one of the parties he met Beth. I wasn't there because I had to be at work, the boss wouldn't let me off. Beth is different from me, better than me, you saw it yourself."

You smiled, looking at Harry, but the corners of his mouth barely twitched. He was staring at you attentively, listening carefully to every word. You lowered your gaze.

"Daniel started dating her. He didn't even tell Beth he was in a relationship... I found out by accident. It was like a slap in the face. We started arguing and he blamed everything on me... I believed him. I believed every word he said. I was in a bad place at the time."

You fell silent again for a moment, those memories must still be hurting you. A little hesitantly, but Harry reached out and squeezed your forearm in a supportive gesture. You smiled slightly.

"Huh! We broke up, of course. Daniel got together with Beth, officially. She was and still is a beautiful woman by his side, now carrying their child. It took me longer to get myself together and now I'm here. I'm drinking wine with my boss and telling him the pathetic story of my relationship."

You wanted to laugh, but just like that time at the wedding, the laughter died in your throat. Harry leaned slightly towards you, his voice calm and soothing.

"Daniel told you that you were a lot to handle?"

You nodded and quickly put your hand to your cheek, trying to wipe away a tear unnoticed.

"I'm sorry." Harry said quickly, placing a hand on your shoulder and caressing you "I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's okay!" you replied quickly, although your voice trembled "I'm telling it for the first time in so long, huh, I thought I was over it. But it hurt a little when I saw him, with her, so happy."

"Yeah, I understand that."

You finally looked at him, smiling even though your eyes were slightly red from the tears that had gathered in them. Your hand found his, squeezing it lightly.

"It's okay, really. Don't worry. I'm even glad you asked. I haven't talked about it with anyone. It's good to get it off my chest."

"I still feel guilty." Harry mumbled.

"Unnecessarily, really." You drank the wine to the end and put the glass on the table. "It's a bit embarrassing, sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything. To be fair, Daniel should apologize to you. He shouldn't have done that, he should have been honest with you from the beginning."

You waved your hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter anymore, Harry. I'm in a different place now. I have a cool job, my boss is okay too. I manage somehow."

You both laughed quietly until silence reigned again. And then Harry decided to say what had been on his mind for some time. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but when would there ever be one? He was still holding your hand, you were sitting so close, and he felt like he had to get it out.

"You're not a lot to handle." You looked up at him, surprised. "To tell you the truth, I think it was my lucky day when you showed up in my office for the first time. Remember?"

"This is embarrassing too, Harry. Let's not go back to this." You said, the corners of your mouth twitching even though your eyes were still scared. You waited to hear what he was getting at and you felt fear welling up inside you.

"It wasn't your fault. And you're not a lot to handle. Don't even believe it. You're worth so much more..."

You stared at him as if enchanted. Harry had such wonderful eyes, you noticed it from the first day, and since then you reminded yourself of it every now and then. And in that moment you saw almost everything in them - care, sincerity, sympathy.

"Don't say that, or I'll fall in love with you." You joked, but he didn't laugh.

"Would that be so bad?"

Something tightened your throat when you saw him leaning closer to you. He was too close, your lips inches apart, his scent filling your nostrils. "I have to go." You blurted out quickly and jumped up, freeing your hand from his.

"I..." Harry began uncertainly, but you had already grabbed your laptop and quickly shoved it into your bag "Listen, I didn't want to..."

"It's totally okay!" you said a little too quickly and too nervously, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slipping your shoes on "I really have to go now."

Harry wanted to say something else, but his head was completely empty. So he just watched as you gathered your things, threw a quick "See you!" and headed for the exit, closing the door quietly behind you.

Harry fell onto the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands, letting out a quiet groan.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @nrschuster30 @maried01 @lunariantears @thatesqcrush @suzysface @youkeeno @legoemma @nuo0n @sarahhxx03 @hazzzy418 @pedrofan @peepawispunk @readingiskeepingmegoing @maryfanson @anoverwhelmingdin @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @axshadows @picketniffler @underneath-the-sky-again @kaysfanficcorner @noisynightmarepoetry @xmaykeca @orcasoul @sincerelywithheartt

#pedro pascal #harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #the materialists #a beautiful little lie series

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pinkmoonastro · 11 months ago

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Pluto through the houses: Synastry

1st: Both people have a way of prying under the skin of the other bringing all the insecurities they thought were hidden to the light. It can be almost jarring and abrasive. Even though its not intentional they pick up on it so naturally they probably didnt even know they hit a wound. This relationship may come about at a time when your self image and public persona is going through a change. Lying about that image can also be an issue here. Lying to protect how the other views your life. A lot of glamorization and intentional avoidant of details. These two can be mesmerized by the persona of each other. Pluto person is almost thirsty for the attention of house person. House person likes the attention but is much more nonchalant about it maybe even a little scared of plutos intensity. Their upbringing emotionally is similar but may not seem similar in the physical aspect of it. People could look at this couple as an odd pairing. It can seem taboo for one or both of them. You can tell that they were attracted to the darker aspect of each other. Its pluto so you know the power dynamics are being tested, pluto person is controlling over the house person. Sometimes that could be to extreme extents. They want their full undivided attention always. If pluto person releases their grasp this can be a very powerful magnetic couple. Manifesting with ease through how others view them together.

2nd: Pluto person ''levels'' house person up, this could be financially or with plutos image but essentially both people add to each others persona. The flow is more natural if the woman or more feminine person is the house person. Wishful thinking could be a problem here because this is actually a very romantic placement. The way love is expressed if very comforting and ideal for both people. Theres a mutual taste in the type things you enjoy so it becomes easy to believe you might not get this somewhere else. The dates are very fun and the couple loves to show each other off. This is one of the easiest houses to create abundance in as a couple. Balancing work and love is an obstacle, if both parties aren't equally as committed to setting aside time together. It can easily become a situation were someone feels neglected. It takes a certain amount of emotional detachment to have a long lasting relationship with this placement. Id say this is a more subtle place for pluto to be it isnt as harsh as some of the others.

3rd: Challenging each others views is almost second nature. Both help each other think outside the box. Their perspectives usually differ quite a bit so it makes for interesting conversation. Pluto person redefines how house person approaches business and relationship matters, offering constructive criticism that the house person usually appreciates. This placement can be nice for an entrepreneur and their partner. Pluto person sees house persons gifts and wants to help refine it. House person teaches pluto person new ways of achieving goals. Too much focus could be on career matters and the relationship could be on and off one or both parties could make excuses for why the communication isn't consistent. One person can try harder to keep the relationship together the other avoiding emotional intimacy. When things are smooth they view each other as the ideal partner then the communication waivers again. Pluto person encourages house person to come out of their shell. If you have any fears about expressing yourself without guilt or shame. In its positive this relationship will help you feel comfortable being yourself without judgement.

4th: Pluto person reminds house person of family member usually a parent. For better or worse. These two came together to unlock something in each others DNA, realizing something about their worth or finding a new sense of gratitude. They mesh well into each other, operating like they've been together for years even if they just met. This connection could've been established through insecurities or for financial benefit. There could be insecurities around how much more money one person makes over the other or secretly competing with each other. This relationship could demand a lot of time and attention being distracting to the career of one or both parties. Or on the flip slide someone can feel unseen and lonely falling to the backside because of the career of the other. Emotionally there's a feeling of being unfulfilled like something is missing. House person views the pluto person as their ideal, perfect match even, The childhood of these two was similar. They share similar wounds around the upbringing. Others may look at this couple and think why are they together? They don't care how people view them they have an understanding between each other. They view each other as someone they would want to have a family with. They are very giving towards each other the energy balances well they know the unspoken things that would make you smile. They fit well into each others families. This person can feel like your calm space, enjoying spending time together at home.

5th: They both love children and can want to have a family together. If they have pets they treat each others pets like their own. They see the beauty in each other and want show their partner off to the world. They introduce each other to a lot of new people blending into each others friends group really well. Power struggles can create tension because they could feel like the other person plots on how to have power over the relationship.Pluto person has a lot of control over the emotions of house person. House person may try to play it cool but pluto has a hold of them. Pluto person wants to lead the relationship but house person may not be okay with that. Public arguments could be familiar to them. It doesn't even have to be an argument but people can tell when they aren't on the same page. They can try to make each other jealous when there out together. Its exciting to see each other worked up. House person could want more public affection so the jealously feels reassuring. This connection could've started at some sort of get together or the first few times they were around each other there were other people present. They could embarrass each other in public flirting with someone in public in the lower natures. This connection feels very familiar to both people. They could feel like siblings not in weird way lol but just the way they were raised and how they think, its very similar to each other. They have alot of fun together. It takes both people back to childhood. This could've started as just friends then turned into something more.

6th: Friends to lovers type of vibe. This match could've been unsuspecting. Knowing each other for a while but just now deciding to give love a go. Theres a lightheartedness about this connection. Both people are just seeing where it goes without pressure or expectations. No expectations may not be the best thing though, it may keep these two in a cycle of unknowing. They can feel like they manifested each other but question if their ready for what they asked for. Self worth issues play a big role here. Theres changes that need to be made internally to make this connection work but one or both people are reluctant to change. Holding onto the past wounds from relationships. Making the assumption that everyone is the same. The energy in this connection can be unbalanced. Someone feels they aren't good enough for the other or thats implied by the other person. Routine are a topic of conversation, they could feel insecure about how they spend free time and feel the need to lie about what they actually do or feel uncomfortable about always doing the same things. On the flip side they can give each other better physical and mental habits, showing more efficient ways to get things done. Living a more healthy lifestyle and thinking more positive. They love spending the morning together getting ready together. The type to make sure you've ate and check in just to see how your doing. They show love by being reliable. This is the type of couple that would discuss what their gonna wear so their outfits are similar. They could have a busy schedule and have to plan time together. Meeting up could always feel so exciting because of the timing factor. Teaching each other how to be honest about your needs and expectations could be hard but pluto is in the 6th house for a reason.

7th: Pluto person wants to show house person off to everyone. They feel like they really got a catch and wants everyone to see how special house person is their very proud to be with them. They want to invest in each other, bossing up each others aesthetic and or finances. In the lower octave the masculine energy fears the feminine is attracted to them mostly because of the money or gifts. The masculine can have insecurities around their worth so they lead with money but then still feel unloved because they led with materials. Both people couldve came into the relationship with insecurities about the physical body they make each other feel confident and dissolve the previous thoughts. They want the same things in life, sharing the same values. Be aware of the promises you make not getting carried away in excitement and not being able to uphold it. Or vise versa the actions are more important than the words. They could've meet on social media or in a work setting. Theirs interest around what each other do for work. Something about the career is attractive to the other. They bounce ideas off each other and help further their career advancement. Maybe even working together. They don't mind putting pressure on each other to maintain a level of structure and refinement. They watch your social media pages fantasizing about the two of you together. Also something about the way this person dresses you either love or you just want to dress them yourself.

8th: At first they could've found it hard to completely give into this connection and avoid true intimacy. Serious commitment is important for them they aren't into flings, they do things with a purpose. They view the relationship from a practical standpoint and analyze how this will contribute to their lives and how much they are willing to give to make it work. When the bond is proven to be strong they want to share their resources. They can give too much though then build resentments about not feeling the energy is being reciprocated. A lot goes unsaid, trust issues and resentments are lurking in the shadows. On the stingier side pluto person doesn't want to share their success with house person or they want house person to jump through hoops for it. They love sharing information with each other. This couple can be a mystery to others. They dont share much about their relationship preferring to keep things private. They notice the friends their partner has that dont have their best interest at heart. Self esteem and codependency issues could show face. The arguments they have are intense. Triggering unspoken insecurities in each other. This relationship builds the confidence of each person. Your a safe space for each other without judgement. On the flip side its important to focus on your own identity and not get to caught up in what your partner thinks. Change because thats what you want to do. Learning to relax and go with flow will do this couple well. Except that everything cant be planned and controlled. This placement creates a solid foundation for a long lasting relationship.

9th: These two share a lot of experiences together. They've been a lot of places together, been seen in a lot of rooms together, everyone knows that these two are together. People cant take their eyes of these two wanting to be in their business. This placement really makes me think of youtube couples.Transforming each other preparing for the spotlight. They really boost each others popularity. They love to be seen out together but that makes sense because they get alot of attention. They share a lot of similar interest and love to combine ideas. An example would be two musicians making songs together. Wounds of hyper independence makes being available and being of service something that really brings them closer together. Traveling together is really looked forward to. Traveling also doesn't have to be physical, a lot of mental shifts happen in this partnership. You really get to witness the growth in each other. In the lower natures the ego wars are strong here. Both people don't wanna feel like their submitting to the will of the other. They make each other chase, a lot. Outside influences cause a lot of friction in this relationship. Other people could know when their at odds with each other. Both like to go back and talk to friends or the internet about whats going on. The arguments are PETTYYYYY. They affect each others self esteem alot.

10th: Proud of each others public image, the work ethic and goals align. These two make a good team they share alot of similar ideas so they naturally go towards the same direction. Creating a business together could be a good idea. They look very aesthetically pleasing together and both know this, using it to their advantage whenever they can. This connection could be stop and go or have taken a while to really get off the ground. It seems there was always something else taking attention away from growing the spark. The more dominant energy could subtly restrict how much the other person expresses themselves. Power struggles and feelings of having to fight to have your opinion heard may present but thats the perfect time for them to assert their own beliefs. Which will always be respected in any healthy relationship. Putting on a brave face when things might not be so well is something that attention might need to be brought too. You cant have support if your not honest about your needs. The relationship could be different behind closed doors than what they present to the public. An example is seeming serious in public and maybe not that affectionate but much more goofy and relaxed at home. When traveling together may be a time frustrations really appear. One person could me more relaxed with how they do things and the other could prefer to have a schedule and routine in place. They could also want to do the same things but at different times. They feel a responsibility over each other, they stand up for each other.

11th: There is a lot of love to go around. Friendships, familial relationships and business relationships are equally as important as intimate relationships to this pair. This is a very busy couple that has hands in many points they both have hobbies or responsibilities that take up a lot their time. Double dates would be really fun for them. Doing physical activity together really grows this bond as well. Beware of how much money your spending when together. Yall like to have fun first and consider cost second. Trying new things together is something that really brings this couple closer. They love surprises and spontaneous dates. Both people are very good at vetting out potential partners their very particular about who they show interest in. The fact that you two came together you take the union serious and both require the stability of a solid foundation. This started as a friendship then grown to become more serious. You didnt expect to meet this person when you did. Meeting through other people, spontaneously or online. The friend groups of these two are different they can also come from different cultures or have different upbringings. In the lower natures someone could want to much freedom, they dont want to put ''tittles'' on the relationship. Favoring partying and keeping the vibe light and friendly. Pluto person could try to use house person as a status upgrade. Like the gateway to other groups of people. Im sure they would just call that networking though lol. This relationship can lack a long term vision. One or both people can feel like they aren't worthy of a ''normal'' functioning relationship. Preferring to keep things spontaneous when their actually just running from fear of the unknown.

12th: This couple manifest success together easily, people are intrigued by them. They give power couple vibes. Something is very alluring that brings alot of attention the magnetism has plutoian qualities. Others could think they'd like to have a relationship like this one. Thats from the outside though. Both people know how to keep private matters private. I think of public figures that want to uphold a certain image. These two idolize or romanticize each other, ignoring the obvious red flags. They can become very codependent on each other for emotional fulfillment. If their not on good terms it messes the whole day up. Breaking up to make up. Loving the passion that comes with it. Balancing work and the relationship may be something that has to be worked out. The arguments are very intense and passionate. There personalities start to merge into one, they start really sound, look and act alike. They give so selflessly to one another. They have dedication and patience to get through the challenging times. Their spirituality is developed through their love for one another. Experiencing things they haven't in any other relationship. Truly changed for the better. They understand each other like no one else ever has. They've both experienced something that was very specific and that bonded them. Its the 12th house so you know i have to mention addictions. Yes, this could be actual addiction to a substance but it can be an addiction over the career, belief system or relationship. An area in this persons life gets way more attention than the others. The belief system of these two can be different or started different.

Songs: i put a spell on you- Alice smith, haunted- Beyonce, sycamore tree- Kali uchis, boomerang- Yebba, something about us- Daft punk

#astrology #12th house #astrology101 #8th house #astrologyfacts #astrologychart #astrologyzone #astro notes #pluto astrology #pluto aspects #synastry #astrology notes #pluto

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infinitydivine · 4 months ago

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PAC: Who is "The One" For You?

Masterlist -Paid Readings-Paid Readings Reviews-PAC Readings

🩷Will you be My Valentine? Sale on Love and Future Spouse Paid Tarot readings

🩷New Valentine's Paid Tarot Readings

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are Three Piles. Pile1- Pile 2- Pile 3

Hello Pile 1~~~

Hello, collectives who are reading Pile 1. Your "The One" has an interesting personality, ngl. This is someone who is highly intelligent. They are someone who is highly respected anywhere they go. It's not like they ask for it, instead, they have a magnetic aura. Wherever they go, they attract attention without any effort. They value truth and honesty. They can be too honest sometimes which makes people around them uncomfortable. I am getting the vibe of a "no-nonsense" approach or mindset. They are not in for short talks and will not entertain my bull$hits. They are often labelled as arrogant or selfish but they don't care about what others think of them. Your The one who comes from a humble background. If they are successful today they have worked hard for it. They are someone who doesn't believe in luck for example, they believe if you have to get something you have to work hard for it. Someone grounded and very practical. They are ambitious and make the most of their time by either working or working out, there is no in-between. This is someone who often undergoes many transformations in their life. They are not afraid of changes and are also quite adaptable to various different circumstances in their life even if it's not comfortable. Your person works quite well under pressure and can maintain a poker face (idk I hear this term while typing this). Some may call them stone-faced faced too since they are not used to showing their emotions on their face. Being with them will make you feel like you are in for a roller coaster ride not knowing what you might expect from them.

↦Their job/s could include working in a profession that requires communication and analytical skills such as a Financial analyst/Advisor, Data Scientist, Lawyer, Judge, Doctor, entrepreneur, etc.

All the best :)

If you liked the reading, you can book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Hello Pile 2~~~

Hello, collectives who are reading Pile 2. Your The One's personality is shown as someone who is a natural-born leader. They aren't the one who backs off from a responsibility. I also heard something about them being a natural leader as well as a protector. Their energy is leaning more so on the masculine side. They have a lot of energy and they often might have trouble controlling it. A lot of stamina too. Their aura exudes confidence and they have a strong presence that inspires a lot of people. Could be in the public eye too because of their leadership position. They are very ambitious but often neglect their health and emotions in order to achieve their goals. I also heard something about them struggling with insomnia. I also saw someone with a glass of alcohol. They could be someone who numbs their feelings with alcohol. They have a lot of responsibilities to fulfill in their life which keeps them busy in the daytime but for them, nights are hard when they are alone with their thoughts. But despite this, they aren't someone who let their thoughts control them. They have good control over their thoughts. They aren't impulsive, rather they take their time and make decisions seeing the bigger picture. They may have a charismatic personality that draws a lot of people in, especially something about how they speak. People find your person admirable for what they have gone through but still, they remain humble.

(Pile 2 I wanted to keep this reading simple but their thoughts are wild).

↦Their job/s could include working in a profession that requires leadership and authority, strategic planning, and long-term vision such as CEO/Founder of a successful company, Lawyer, Attorney, Teacher&Professor, Politician, Someone in the public eye, motivational speaker, etc.

All the best :)

If you liked the reading, you can book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader

Hello Pile 3~~~

Hello, collectives who are reading Pile 3. Your "The One" has very mature and stable energy. They seem to be the fun kind of person who doesn't take life seriously too much. Out of the three piles in this reading, yours seems to be the least serious. By serious I don't mean they are not doing well in their life but they are someone who has very light-hearted energy almost like a child. When you meet them, you will want to protect them immediately because of their pure energy. Your person has gone through a lot in their life but they stayed the same. They didn't let the hate of the world change them. They are stable, dependable, and successful. Despite the outer circumstances, they can maintain their inner peace. Could be spiritual too. But this is also someone who is focused on becoming the better version every day and is already building security and wealth. Your person is someone who works well with people and can even bring many people together under one roof to work on a project or a collaboration. They have an eye for art and can observe people well even from a distance. They are emotionally fulfilled and confident with their feelings. When they have romantic feelings for someone, they are the first ones to confess. I am getting them being straightforward but it's a lot for others to sometimes take in. They have an eye for art and craft. Could be very interested in art and artists, and sometimes could even donate anonymously to various artistic causes. Being with them will feel like being with someone who will uplift you every day and will make you see beauty in every little accomplishment of yours.

↦Their job/s could include working in a profession that requires them to be creative, someone who values stability and can work with a team& collaborations, and someone who can still enjoy life while working such as An independent business owner, entrepreneur, Musician, Creative artist, Chef, Therapist&Counselor, etc.

All the best :)

If you liked the reading, you can book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Thank you and Love,

Infinity ✨

Divider credits to- @lavendergalactic, @strangergraphics

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nymphea0 · 5 months ago

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Monster And His Love

Yan! Leon winston x reader

Oneshot Story (Special Side story)

(Warning : Some Death threat, Some Mature Scene in the end!)

(Minor are prohidited to read this story🚫 )

Main story of : Monster And His Love

Manhwa : Try Begging

: Adult Manhwa (19+)

Author: Libenia | 리베냐

Artist: ABYSS

Word Count ; 1k word

So because many of you asked about Leon's story, so this is a special chapter that I made. This is shows how rough and significant your future with leons is. so use a lot of your imagination my dear, every ending is yours to determine whether it is a happy ending or not. For my one of dear, i promise to update on New years eve, but guess not, but dont worry, in New years Eve i will update some special oneshot story, my dears.. do you all like Older Chara? Like for example Nanami or like peter killer? Some older man? (^3^) anyways.. much of love- Neva🦋

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story, much love.- Neva🦋

Leon Winston, Who doesn't know that man? Brilliant achievements, famous among the soldiers and also the noble faction.

A handsome man who no one knows how much of a devil he is. Maybe there is only 1 person... his wife. That person is none other than you.

It has been more than 6 years that you have lived with a man, whom you call a devil, a crazy and cruel devil. 6 years you have faced hell by getting pregnant with his child. You have tried everything to escape from Leon, with the child you are carrying, but like a hunted deer, you are trapped. Can't run or even escape.

No.. this story is different from what you think, this is your story, your story in trying to tame the devil, for 6 years.. the effort was not in vain, maybe you could say.. you regret even doing that. Because Leon... is increasingly captivated.. and obsessed with you.

Fareadith Sophia Winston.. your first child with Leon, unfortunately she has Leon's hair color but with your amethyst eyes. You feel like crying every time you see her, you will remember Leon.

What surprised you .. Leon really loves Sophia, the reason is enough to make your soul tremble .. with burning intensity Leon said right in front of your face at that time.

"You ask, why do I like Sophia so much?"

Leon approached you slowly, pulling your chin, making you look directly into his eyes.

"Sophia reminds me of you my dear, she has the same eyes as you my wife .. my love, if she didn't look like you, I would definitely ... kill that child"

You really want to scream, curse and torture the man who is grinning like a devil in front of you.

'31 - xx - 1xxx'

At a beautiful glamorous party, attended by many rich families, a gathering of aristocrats.

One of them is, you and Leon. Even when you and Leon have changed identities in this country, Leon still insists on being a person with unlimited money.

Standing beside Leon who was busy talking to the coal entrepreneur. His right hand was holding a wine glass, while his left hand was hugging your waist affectionately. Maybe that's what people think, too bad, Leon did embrace you.. but also kept you in place so you don't wander off.

Being a good and obedient wife. Do you regret knowing Leon? Of course, you curse your father who took you to Count Winston's residence, maybe if you refused, this misfortune would not be directed at you, but at someone else, Riddle Grace for example, the girl at the summer resort that you accidentally met playing with Leon

The girl with Turquoise eyes, who Leon always called Daisy. Well, but the rice has become porridge, your fate may be more terrible than Riddle Grace.

After the party, Leon forced you into his car, you sat quietly, very different from your husband who was busy focusing on the road.

His grip on the steering wheel was so tight, you? Sighing softly, damn, your hell will come soon. You really hoped the cooling ointment you bought at the local doctor would at least help heal the abrasions.

"How many men have you seduced tonight?!"

Leon may have his eyes on the road ahead, but his hands? His hands were tightly gripping your thighs, squeezing them with a mixture of emotion and possessiveness.

"Seducing you say? I've been standing beside you for over 2 hours Leon? How could I even seduce them when you're holding my waist tightly?!"

Damn, your story is over, you accidentally raised your voice, the car Leon was driving, made a sharp turn, and stopped right in front of the forest, a deserted area!.

"So it turns out, my love has now become a rebellious woman"

Leon got out of the car, turned around and forced open the side car door right where you were sitting.

"Look at me doll"

With his tight grip on the nape of your face with eyes filled with jealousy and arousal.

"Kneel"

You want to refuse but what can you do when you are side by side with Leon who could ask you to do more and more strange things.

You get out of the car, inevitably kneeling on the ground and grass that touches your knees.

"Open it with your own hands"

Leon looks at you kneeling right in front of him, so beautiful and erotic, how lucky he is to have a wife like you.

"Suck it faster doll, don't hit your teeth"

With a tight grip on your hair, Leon guides you to suck it and move your head back and forth, he penetrates your mouth, as if your mouth is another part that he really wants to damage and claim.

You can only pray that when you get home, Leon will at least be gentle with you.

Let's say you are the saddest woman in the world, your daughter Shopia has above average intelligence that makes your head dizzy, while leon? The man was just busy laughing at the report from Sophia's guard who reported that the child had deliberately burned down the inauguration building of the international bank, on the grounds that the bank's funds used corrupted people's money.

With a revolutionary spirit along with the other people, sophia burned down the bank right on the day the bank was to be inaugurated.

"See the doll? I told you, it would be better if we put it in the military academy"

At night, maybe it's the time when your world really becomes a hell of torture.

Lying in bed, both your hands and feet are tied to each bedpost, making you in the 'X' position.

Eyes covered with black silk cloth, in a naked position.

Yes, that's right, naked, your hell will come soon, and you are not sure whether in 1 week you will be able to walk or not.

"Sophia is already 6 years old my dear, it would be nice if we gave her a sibling, a little brother for example? Hopefully the second one will be similar to you"

You can hear the sound of Leon's shoes, and the sound of flowing water and the sound of an object being placed somewhere, you are not sure.

Until you feel Leon's tongue forcing its way into your mouth, you can feel the wine flowing in every corner of your mouth, you can even feel the wine falling in vain to both your left and right sides.

"Tonight you are very naughty, teasing men at the party, raising your voice, even, trying to argue back to me"

Leon's hands skillfully squeeze your chest, his lips that very expertly sip, and bite your neck, leaving marks on every inch of your neck, claiming as if there is no tomorrow.

"I will enjoy you so much, my love"

For Leon, no one can take you away from him, if necessary making you pregnant with his child for the second time, maybe it's not a bad idea, even if the world ends.. Leon will find any way to be able to continue to be with you, no matter how much the price is needed.

Because you are there for him, and he is there for you, His, his alone, no one else.

His mine

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld @darkuni63

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story, Project Drak Manhwa Character story.

#obsessed #possesive #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x darling #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #nevaerah

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enhypencores · 7 months ago

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Eat The Rich

Jay X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Angst/ Fluff

Word Count: 4K+

Warning: extremely suggestive, profanity, hatred against the rich, discusses the male gaze, violence and possession.

Synopsis: As your boyfriend, Park Jongseong, takes you to one of his high-stakes business events, you find yourself enduring the pretentious, cutthroat atmosphere of the dinner. You're determined to maintain his reputation, especially since he's trying to win the favour of a powerful chaebol. But things become hazy when the blonde chaebol's gaze lingers on you for too long.

<3<3<3<3

The large dining hall was illuminated with ambient candles and dim yellow chandeliers, an aura of sophistication and formality enveloping the expanse. Blue orchids occupied every table followed by a bottle of champagne, wine glasses and plates full of rich seafood such as smoked salmon with caviar and potato pancakes. The air was disturbingly thick with branded scents wafting off people, mixing with the smell of fish and flowers.

The massive hall suffocated you, making you clench your purse tighter.

High-society events had always sounded uncomfortable, but nothing could have prepared you for this trainwreck. It felt like a battle of the wealthy: women draped in brands you'd never heard of, exchanging fake laughs and snide remarks as they clung to their cashmere shawls, beaded with pleated gold—at least, that’s what you were told. If you had the choice, you’d never again breathe near these oblivious, high-nosed women, flaunting their lavish lifestyles, all thanks to their hardworking husbands.

They seemed untouchable, speaking the language of arrogance. They reminded you of your felines—aloof and haughty, exuding an air of superiority but ultimately ignorant.

As you sat there, dolled up in your tight-fitted dress, the thought of eating the rich lingered in your mind. You'd come across the phrase on social media and analyzed it through the lens of an unbiased journalist, but now, you couldn’t help but draw drastic conclusions.

Their world felt grotesquely split—luxury on the surface, emptiness beneath. They wore their generational wealth like a costume, but without it, they were nothing more than overgrown children in oversized suits, throwing around big words with small minds. Theatrical, pretentious, drowning in self-importance. Strip away the pretence, and they were exposed—hollow, unremarkable, and utterly unaware of how insignificant they truly were.

You desperately avoided these events. So what if your boyfriend, Park Jongseong, is one of the businessmen, featured in Times magazine as the hottest emerging entrepreneur in South Korea? A mere student of journalism, unfamiliar with the highs and lows of elitist culture, surely adds nothing to such obnoxious events.

But this time, he dragged your misfit ass to accompany him and formally introduce yourself to the crowds.

Jay was required to attend such events and ever since he told you about the women throwing themselves at him, you couldn’t help slip into an elegant dress and rush to join his side.

You paused, lips thin against the rim of your glass as you caught sight of your boyfriend in a black suit, wearing a blank expression on his face as a domineering aura surrounded him. You could tell he liked the gathering just as much as you did with the way his gaze was stoic and lips sealed.

This was the first time you had agreed to join him in such an event and you were glad you did.

He looked awfully handsome, his chocolate eyes brimming glowing in the hall's darkness. Sharp jawline set in a stiff smile and lips pink and wet from his drink as he nodded at his seatmate’s words. He was the centre of attention, not just because of his appearance but also his charming character.

Park Jongseong was the sole owner of X company, a name now included in the world’s largest food industries. Jay worked his way up the ladder despite having zero connections to big shots in the marketing industry. He worked with integrity and preserved quality in his brand. It was hard to access bigger doors in this dog-eat-dog world, but your boyfriend’s dedication to his craft and refusal to compromise on ethics bore the seeds of success.

Whilst most companies undermined him, the public seemed to appreciate his rigidity and soon he was opening up branches all over the world. Garnering praise from overseas magazines, every businessman was wary of his character. He had started at the bottom of the chain and earned his way up, struggle after struggle.

You were so proud to call him yours.

“My husband wanted to donate to the local NGO, but I was against it because we already paid for the church reconstruction. We take part in various charitable events, you see.”

How were the two situations remotely related? You wanted to voice out your distaste. Instead, you bit your tongue and smiled bitterly.

You searched for your boyfriend on the other table and noticed his curious gaze already trained on you. He carefully read your expression and immediately caught onto your discomfort, rising from his seat to approach you.

You watched narrowly as he crossed the large expanse, grabbed your hand and tugged you towards him. The five ladies on the table quickly quietened, jaw parting in disbelief as they greeted Jay in coy and shy voices. They sounded sugary sweet as if they weren’t already married; it made you want to smack them in the face with their Hermes bags.

Jay wrapped his arm around your waist, nodding at the ladies but never sparing them a glance as he led you away. You almost flipped off the flustered women but restrained yourself, knowing you couldn’t afford to smear Jay’s reputation by falling into a girly scuffle.

“You gotta pay me back for saving your ass back there,” he whispered against your ear, and chills quickly ran along your spine. You laughed at the smirk developing on his face.

“I didn’t need any saving,” you huffed, your challenging gaze daring him to say otherwise. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a soft smile, “We’ll see about that at home.”

Your stomach flipped.

Jay casually pulled you to his table and sat you down beside him, securing an arm behind your chair.

You instantly tensed up, surveying the intimidating circle of important looking people staring your way. Jay was currently sitting around huge business tycoons and their spouses.

A blonde man sitting opposite Jay caught your eye, and you froze. One of the most important men of the night, an old chaebol sat across from you, the man Jay was bidding on for future collaborations to invest in his dream project. Though nepotism was widespread, like an infectious disease in today’s world, these dinners were held to offer a chance for rising stars to socialize and build connections.

You straightened up your spine and flashed a soft smile.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Oh, young love!” One of the older couples gleefully chimed, and you smiled bashfully. “Aren’t they adorable?” Jay held the woman’s softened gaze.

“How wonderful to have such a young charming man all to yourself,” a middle-aged lady, sat beside her husband, covered in an expensive leopard fur coat claimed, an envious smile straining her wrinkles.

You nodded, but Jay shook his head dismissively.

“I’ve always been the lucky one.”

You felt a wave of emotions hurl up in your chest.

Jay spent long, struggling for every minuscule opportunity, and he deserved every ounce of the success. You were merely fortunate enough to love him through it all. For him to blatantly praise you before such a crowd, it tugged at your heart and made you want to cover him in kisses.

Since you’d met him, you were certain that nothing was unattainable when a man as keen and passionate as Park Jongseong stood by your side. You were definitely the luckier one.

You wanted to throw away everything to make him happy.

“How beautiful.”

Caught off guard, you spun to the origin of the voice. The chaebol, was staring—gawking at you.

With complacency in his tone and a sickening smirk on his lips, you suddenly felt under the spotlight.

“Are you currently studying?” He slurred, his accent becoming thicker with intent.

You felt chills run down your spine as you noticed his pupils wandering to your cleavage. You shifted in your seat, feeling regretful at your choice of dressing. It wasn’t even obscene, a casual midi dress with a silver of collarbone and the tiniest hint of cleavage. Nothing newsworthy. Yet you felt putrid.

You never wanted anyone to stare at you like that. It made your insides crawl. It made you feel insignificant, demoralized and inferior.

You knew his intentions were foul, but you refrained from showing a slight hint of it in your demeanour. It didn’t matter. You wouldn’t see him ever again after tonight, and this was Jay’s only chance at securing a life-changing deal, forming a once-in-a-lifetime connection.

You gulped and smiled indifferently.

“Journalism,” you responded dryly and blinked away.

You noticed Jay’s hand clench into a fist under the table and panic rippled in your chest. You quickly rubbed at his knuckles, fear racking your head as you flashed a nervous smile.

You knew better than to tick him off. Jay would singlehandedly destroy anyone who looked at you with ill intentions. You were a witness to it once at a party.

Wasted after a university gathering, a man tried to take you home despite your continuous rejection. Your friends saw your discomfort and dialled up your boyfriend’s number, who immediately took off with Heeseung’s motorbike and arrived like a thunderstorm, knocking the man’s front tooth out. With bloodied knuckles and a scowling face, you remembered him screaming in the alleyway as the cops came to the man’s rescue.

Poor Heeseung was left stranded in the middle of a worksite drenched in pouring rain. When you asked Jay why he opted for a bike instead of his car, he said the traffic was at its worst and had he taken his car, he’d have a hit-and-run case on his back trying to get to you.

“Jay,” you muttered, your mind going blank as you noticed the awakening demon in his eyes; his predatory stare trained at the man, his jaw clenched.

You suddenly wanted to evaporate. You tried to appease him as you stroked his knuckles, your soft skin gliding against his callous one. He gripped your hand tightly but kept his drilling gaze trained on the blonde man.

“Journalism? A beauty with brains.” His eyes were hazy and tone lousy due to heavy alcohol consumption.

His eyes again feasted at your exposed skin and you shrunk into your chair, your heart clashing against your chest.

“Lower your gaze.”

Dead silence.

The smiles dropped like a domino effect as men shifted in their seats, discomfort straining their wrinkled features. The males were used to the chaebol’s indecent behaviour… some even welcomed it— what’s a few demeaning remarks towards their women if they’ll win the favour of the world’s richest man?

The blatant call out and Jay’s scornful gaze had everyone sweating in their formal suits. The tension grew thick, and your throat tightened in alarm. Your hold on Jay’s hand grew tighter, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m fine, don’t do anything rash.”

But it seemed like your plea went through him, unheard.

His tense fist and determined stare directed at the chaebol made you realize that another word from the blonde would get Jay spiralling. You had to get out of here before it was too late.

You gave his hand another squeeze.

“Excuse me, I’m heading to the washroom,” you hurriedly announced, flashing Jay a complacent smile.

You didn’t look back as you hurried to the washrooms. You planned on spending the rest of the night in the lavatory since the party was awfully disappointing.

You wanted to be with Jay but not under the current circumstances. The blonde pervert was the most influential in this field and this country, and you wanted to do nothing that sabotaged your boyfriend’s future goals.

You locked yourself in one of the stalls and sat down annoyedly.

It was supposed to be a fun night out with your boyfriend.

You didn’t know a rich party full of influential businessmen was just a pathetic battle of the egos. To think, you skipped catching up with your favourite anime for this bullshit party. You grumbled spitefully, massaging your forehead in slow circles, hoping to ease the building ache.

“Excuse me,” you heard a shrill voice call out as someone knocked from outside.

You sat up alarmed.

“Yes?” You replied unsurely.

“I think your boyfriend is outside waiting for you.”

You jumped up, your eyes zeroing as you whipped the door open.

A brunette-haired woman you recognized as the server stood before you. “You’re Mr. Park’s girlfriend, right? He asked me to check inside for you,” she smiled and stepped to the sink, resuming to wash her hands.

You rushed for the door and yanked it open.

As expected, your boyfriend was stationed against the wall, his eyes already on yours, needy and impatient. He pulled you close to him, his fingers grazing your exposed neckline as he breathed you in.

“We’re going home,” he announced against your neck.

You nodded hesitantly, aware of his turmoil. You knew your boyfriend’s instincts were borderline predatory when he suspected your discomfort; it must have taken everything in him to not stalk over to the chaebol and smack him in the face.

Jay grabbed your hand and marched out to the hall.

The hall grew painfully silent like a funeral as you made your way down the carpet. Confusedly, you looked around, noticing everyone staring. Thick, suffocating tension persisted in the air as if a fire was brewing. It seemed like everyone had something to say but they were holding back. You looked back at your boyfriend, but he marched ahead, unaffected.

Anyone you passed, you heard a brief gasp escape their chest. You wondered what had happened for everyone to be so horrified and meek around him.

Your gaze fearfully drifted to the table with the chaebol and your heart dropped in your stomach. A dark red bruise circled the chaebol’s right eye, his pupil dilated and trembling with fear.

When you both were in the car park, you pulled at his arm, a gasp ringing loud.

“Jay, what the fuck? How could you attack him?” You gasped, finding it hard to process what you had just seen. He didn’t respond, keeping a moderate pace towards the car.

“Jay, I’m talking to you!” You shrieked, voice trembling with horror.

He finally halted in his tracks and turned towards you, his eyes burning with seething anger, his fists still clenched, a bluish bruise starting to form on his right knuckles.

“We need to get out of here before I do something much worse,” he spat, staring at you like a madman, running a hand through his gelled hair, voice thick with anguish.

You felt frustration building in your chest and your eyes burned with tears.

“That deal…” Your voice trembled. “Do you think he’ll let this go? He won’t—!” You cried, your head pounding.

You clung to his arm. “Let’s go back inside and apologise—”

Jay jerked his arm free, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. “Apologise? Have you lost your mind?” His voice boomed across the empty lot, his gaze piercing through you like poison.

“You’ve worked so hard Jay!”

Jay was adamant about establishing himself. Never losing sight of his goals, he spent a year giving his all to his startup.

He earned investments after sacrificing sleep, lunch, date nights and family dinners. His whole universe revolved around his dream; most nights, he didn’t even sleep in the comfort of his bed because of the calls he’d get from investors demanding more insight.

You loved him so much, so much that you were always supportive. His absence made you lonely, but you restrained those urges because it was best not to bother him.

You internally ached for him.

Slowly, the ache started to disappear when he came back.

After successfully earning a huge investment, everything evolved. It was like his pot of love flooded and spilt everywhere, unable to be contained. He stopped working excessively. He dropped everything to come pick you up after your lecture, sometimes even accompanying you to the library for long study sessions. He became so clingy, so needy for your presence, it drove you insane—in the best way.

“Why are you crying?” He grimaced, his gaze softening as he watched tears flow down your cheeks.

“Because!” You croaked, tone flaring with temper.

“How could you ruin this?” You screeched, your face beat red and wet as you emptied out your heart. You were so angry and frustrated; you wanted to physically shake Jay into oblivion. “After this deal, you would’ve been unbeatable!” You threw your hands in despair.

Jay huffed, his eyes wide and crazed, pinning you down, holding you captive. “You care about my fucking investments right now?” He sounded hurt as well, his voice so quiet, you could tell he was boiling.

“Yes!” You cried. “After you’ve worked so hard for it… sacrificed so much of our time for it!” As soon as you said the words, the darkness in his eyes grew tumultuous.

Jay stepped close and before you could register it, he grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the car, his arms immediately cushioning the hit, protecting you from the impact. A loud clash echoed as he pinned you beneath him, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed.

“I’ve worked so hard, day after day, so you can stand next to me without shame.”

Thoughts racing through you suddenly grew dull… silent like a breeze in the abyss. The silence stretched until you could hear his harsh breaths echo through your frame.

He gulped down a flood of things he must’ve wanted to say, instead he cupped your jaw, caressing your face.

“You deserved someone strong and I was so pathetic back then.” His words felt like acid flowing through your ears.

“Working shifts at the grill and serving bars in the night,” his voice cracked as his hold on your jaw tightened. “It was pathetic…” he reiterated, browns in his eyes becoming liquid.

Each word pained you more than you could imagine. Your heart broke as he reminisced about your early years at university when he working minimum wage to pay for his tuition. It was around the time you were enthralled by him, the studious senior, always sat alone, at the far end of the library with his nose in some business book.

Sleep-deprived eyes, a languid smile and a date to his workplace were enough to get you head over heels in love with the man.

“Jay, I was never ashamed—how could you even think—” You felt choked up. Words seemed to have failed you.

Jay blinked back his tears. “I was unworthy, and it made my blood boil.” He traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “Heeseung hyung said I should give you up. It was an easy way out… but the thought of that kept me up at night.”

Your jaw dropped—Heeseung had told him to let you go, and he'd kept it from you.

“The fact that he even mentioned that made me sick—gave me nightmares. It was a reality check,” he growled, his breaths strained as he thought back to the memory. “That night, I decided to be worthy of you. I decided no one on this fucking planet will ever think of separating us.”

“Because you’re mine. I can give up this entire world but never you,” he whispered, and his mouth lowered, finding your neck.

“Jay, you were never any of that—you were everything I needed,” you gasped as he kissed down your neckline.

“W—Why didn’t you ever tell me?” You bit your lips, restraining the adulterous sounds as Jay’s lips pressed a trail of wet kisses before he bit into a sensitive region. His tongue slickly traced the bite mark across the neckline as he tasted you to his fulfilment.

“Because you don’t need to worry about it,” he rasped, his heavy pants taking over your mind, making you twitch and shudder in his hold.

“I’ve achieved enough to protect you,” he whispered against your skin and dropped wet kisses down to your cleavage.

“I want to rip his filthy eyes out for looking at you,” he snarled, the bitterness and rage returning. His eyes remained on yours, watching you throw your head back as he painted you a darker shade of red.

His kisses grew desperate and needy—his grip on your waist tight.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his heated frame.

He finally leaned up and connected his mouth with yours. It was unlike any other. He was usually gentle with your mouth, calling your lips two pretty petals, but in the darkness of his anger, he was swallowing you whole. He invaded through the gap and sucked at your tongue, his neck craning to the side as he meticulously drained your mouth.

Everything felt hot, from his heavy breath to the hand digging in your waist to his intense gaze harbouring a storm; it was everything.

You felt guilty for letting him do this in a public car park where anyone could walk in and watch a show. But it also felt so euphoric, to have him feasting on you like his last meal.

Jealous and angry Jay made your stomach pool.

“You’re gorgeous for me—how dare that fucking crook stare?” His saliva pooled down your neck as he dug his teeth into your breast. A dry gasp escaped your mouth, your eyes falling shut in pleasure.

“Jay,” you breathed, your body aching with want.

Your breathy words were enough to send him spiralling. He started to push himself into you, sucking your flesh like honey would melt on his tongue.

You felt him.

He was so brutally turned on; your legs felt weak as his masculine scent assaulted your senses. He supported your waist, digging his nose into your hair, inhaling you.

You were so heated that when you heard a heel clicking against the marble floor, your mind was elsewhere, refusing to comprehend it. You were completely overwhelmed by the woody scent of his cologne, the heat of his mouth and hard centre pushing into your pelvis. It would be embarrassing to get caught, but you were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with him.

Suddenly, you were knocked out of your trance as Jay jerked back, his gaze pained and hazy with longing. His limbs shook as his chest heaved, his body so rigid, afraid to move or he would fall to the ground.

He clenched at his hair and swore under his breath.

“Get in the car. No one sees you like this,” he ushered.

What was he insinuating? You didn’t have time to ask as he threw an impatient glare. You obediently ran to the passenger seat and jumped inside, your heart clashing against your chest rampantly.

As you caught sight of the front mirror, you realised why your boyfriend had been so adamant. He didn’t want anyone to see your messy hair, hooded gaze, flushed and painted red; you looked lustrous, turned on and oozing with desire.

Jay was beside you the next second, his forehead covered in a thick sheen of sweat and his black strands a sultry mess.

“I can’t drive. I literally can’t feel my legs.”

You threw your head back, bursting out laughing as he glared at you, his pupils dilated and still buzzing with need.

“Shut up before I fuck you in the backseat,” he threatened.

Shut up, you did.

You knew him too well to know that he would actually comply.

You watched him as he sat inhaling and exhaling, a meditating exercise he sometimes used to recover.

After a couple more painful minutes, he finally drove home and you had never seen him drive so fast, breaking all the traffic laws in the rulebook.

“Jay…” You called out as you noted the familiar apartment gate appear.

“Hm?” He nibbled on his lip, steering the wheel as he reversed the car into the garage.

“I will crash Heeseung’s motorbike the next time I see him.” And as he came to a stop, you saw him laugh into oblivion as he hauled you in his arms and hastened towards your flat.

After getting pushed into the bedsheets with a persistent boyfriend devouring you through the night, you laid on his bare chest, drowsy and exhausted, smiling into oblivion.

He looked down curiously, kissing down your spine.

“What’s got you so happy goofball?”

“I have the title for my final.”

Eat The Rich, a tedious trip into the small minds of the land’s biggest chaebols

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drferox · 5 months ago

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So I have been massively burnt out this year, partly due to illness and separation stress, but I have been trying to do all the self-care things that I encourage people to do when you’re trying to make a brain be well, and one of those is writing fiction.

Just short fiction, because my brain balks at the idea of picking up the really big, long neglected projects. But short fiction is still fiction and if I write enough of it, then maybe I’ll build up enough momentum to pick up the bigger projects again.

So I thought that maybe if I can write enough fiction, because there’s a bit of horror flavour running though these pieces, I could narrate them for YouTube and work on the momentum for yet another project that fell by the wayside between the MS, relationship breakdown and single parenting.

Which is why I searched for ‘how to run a scary stories YouTube channel’.

And boy oh boy did that induce some rage.

I genuinely hold the art of writing in high regard, and I recognise that it’s a learned skill and difficult to do. All creative pastimes are. But there are a bunch of ‘entrepreneurs’, and I use the term with a great deal of sarcasm, that have decided to use A-Bloody-I for every single part of telling a story, except one. And for that single piece that they do not outsource to a computer program, they simply copy what has worked for other people.

There are videos providing instructions for people about how to use A-Bloody-I to:

Generate a YouTube channel name, banner and profile picture

Generate a story of the desired word length

Generate a fake voice to narrate that story

Generate a background image and thumbnail

At which point why did they even bother? They don’t even listen to the story that they generate before uploading. I know it’s all about the dream of money, they think 5 minutes of work every day will earn them an income, but what they have generated is soulless garbage.

The results have all the dressings of a horror story, but they don’t have the body of one.

It is like fae realm food- looks a little too good and all the reflections are wrong if you look too close, but it won’t satisfy the way the real thing does. You can’t really live off it.

But the more I know to look for it, the more of it I find. Particularly with fake voices, that seem to have trouble with words like vague or Dalek for some reason.

My main solace here is that these ‘entrepreneurs’ seem to be employing the same strategy in their own niche, flooding themselves with endless AI generated content coming from the same one idea, so at least they get to create their own hell I suppose.

#writing #creative writing #frustration #AI garbage

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thealchemistbae · 29 days ago

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Asteroid Mony (7782) Persona Chart Pt. 2 Observations 💰

Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes only.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

Let's talk careers and job vibes based on your North Node sign in the Mony Persona Chart. This is how you are destined to secure the bag, and these are the fields that align with your money karma. This isn't just any job list. This is your soul-aligned path to wealth. This seems to be more accurate in how you will make money in this lifetime. I have studied billionaire charts and their north node in this persona chart has confirmed to me that they are in their prospective careers and of course the rest of the chart verifies it. We are going to break this down to get the full picture. We are going to look at the sign your NN is in, and the house. In Part 3, I'll discuss degrees and rulerships because that is IMPORTANT too!

North Node in Signs:

💲: Aries -> Your bag comes from taking initiative, personal leadership, and being unapologetically bold. You're not here to follow. You're here to start trends, take risks, and own your path. Destined jobs: Entrepreneur/CEO, Influencer, Personal trainer, Motivational Speaker, Army/Military/Law enforcement, public figure/brand front face.

💲: Taurus -> Your bag comes from creating luxury, security, and beauty. Slow, sustainable growth. Lean into sensual skills, create consistent income, and enjoy the fruits of your labor. Destined jobs: Real estate, Chef/baker, Fashion/beauty Influencer, Musician/vocalist, Jewelry designer, Farmer or herbalist.

💲: Gemini -> Your bag comes from talking, teaching, writing and sharing your ideas or the internet/social media. Your words literally attract money. Speak, write, post and watch your bag grow. Destined jobs: Content creator, PR/marketing, Social media strategist, Writer/Blogger, Podcast host, Teacher/coach.

💲: Cancer -> Your bag comes from emotional intelligence, intuition, and creating safe spaces. Soft power is real. Care is currency. Emotional labor turns into income here. Destined jobs: Therapist/healer, Real estate agent, Doula/midwife, Chef/home chef influencer, Spiritual mentor/astrologer, Family business owner.

💲: Leo -> Your bag comes from creativity, performance, and being center stage. You shine for a living. Your presence is the product. Fame = fortune with this node. Destined jobs: Actor/performer, Entertainer, Creative director, Personal brand influencer, Children's content creator, Party planner/event host.

💲: Virgo -> Your bag comes from precision, healing, organization, and being of service. The more useful you are, the more you earn. Tiny details = major dollars. Destined jobs: Wellness coach, Nutritionist/herbalist, Editor/analyst, Accountant or organizer, Healthcare field, Pet care/grooming.

💲: Libra -> Your bag comes from relationships, balance, and creating beauty. Worth with or for others and create peace or aesthetic experiences. Money loves a vibe. Destined jobs: Relationship coach, Lawyer/mediator, Interior decorator, Fashion stylist, Brand strategist, Wedding/event planner.

💲: Scorpio -> Your bag comes from deep transformation, shared wealth, and taboo topics. Handle money, sex, death, and transformation and you'll never be broke again. Destined jobs: Financial advisor/investor, Sex education/OF baddie, Spiritualist/medium, Therapist/trauma healer, Psychologist or occult, Crime/true crime content creator.

💲: Sagittarius -> Your bag comes from teaching, storytelling, traveling, and sharing wisdom. Freedom is your wealth. Teach people, inspire and get paid to roam. Destined jobs: Travel blogger, Life coach/spiritual teacher, Professor/educator, Influencer abroad, Author/screenwriter, Religious/spiritual leader.

💲: Capricorn -> Your bag comes from climbing to the top, working smart, and building empires. You're here to run shit. Long term wealth, status, and legacy = your money path. Destined jobs: CEO/founder, Government official, Architect/engineer, Corporate mogul, Investor, Authority in your niche.

💲: Aquarius -> Your bag comes from innovation, internet, community, and future thinking. You're here to do it differently and get rich doing it. The weirder, the better. Destined jobs: Tech/start-up founder, Crypto/NFT content creator, Humanitarian/non-profit leader, Content strategist, Trend forecaster, Online community builder.

💲: Pisces -> Your bag comes from dreaming, healing, and connecting to the divine. You attract wealth through softness, vibes, and spiritual alignment. Intuition = income.

North Node in Houses:

🏦: 1H -> You're meant to make money by being seen, taking initiative, and becoming the face of your brand. Independence = income. People are drawn to you, not just what you do. Billionaire tip: Monetize your persona, presence, and authenticity.

🏦: 2H -> Money is part of your soul path literally. You're here to build personal wealth, own your worth, and create stability. Your bag grows when you stop relying on others and claim your value. Ruler of the 2nd = super important here.

🏦: 3H -> You get money through communication, education, media, marketing, or social platforms. Your voice is valuable. Teaching, influencing, writing, or public speaking is your income keys.

🏦: 4H -> Legacy wealth. Real estate. Family business. Money flows when you heal ancestral wounds and root yourself in emotional safety. Nurturing work, home-based empires, or generational blessings come through.

🏦: 5H -> Creative energy. You're meant to get paid for your art, style, presence, and self-expression. Think performers, content creators, fashion, beauty, and romance-based work. Leo placements here =star power.

🏦: 6H -> Money comes from being of service, creating structure, or mastering a craft. Health, healing, routines, or work ethic = money flow. You're meant to master discipline without overworking. Pay attention to details; they bring dollars.

🏦: 7H -> Partnerships = profit. You're here to collaborate, create win-wins, and monetize relationships. Think brand deals, joint ventures, legal/business consulting, or marrying well (no shame in the sugar game). Libra/Venus influence makes this even more luxe.

🏦: 8H -> You're meant to deal with big money; other people's money, investments, power, inheritance, or transformation. Passive income, joint finances, and financial alchemy are your lane. You're here to turn pain into profit.

🏦: 9H -> You get money by going global, thinking big, and expanding your beliefs. Education, spirituality, travel, publishing, and high-ticket services align with your money path.

🏦: 10H -> The bag is your birthright. You're here to be known, respected, and successful AF. Fame, status, career legacy, and boss moves are written in your money karma. Don't play small; your name is the brand.

🏦: 11H -> Money comes through community, followers, internet presence, tech, and innovation. You're meant to impact the collective and get paid doing it. Monetize your message.

🏦: 12H -> You're meant to make money through spiritual, creative, or subconscious work. Behind the scenes magic, dream work, healing, or divine timing leads to financial flow. Rest = revenue.

Where is your North Node and are you on your soul aligned path that you were destined to do to make money? Let me know in the comments.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #thealchemistbae #birth chart #horoscope #astrology for beginners #natal chart #astro notes #persona charts #persona chart #mony persona chart #mony asteroid #money astrology

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societyfolklore · 12 days ago

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The Cost of Access

Title: The Cost of Access

Pairing: Congressman! Bucky Barnes x Entrepreneur!Female Reader

Summary: At a high-stakes D.C. fundraiser. You’re there to protect your start-up from political threats, not to play the donor game but Bucky surprises you. He sees past the surface, speaks your language, and for one charged night, the two of you find something raw, reckless, and unexpectedly sincere behind closed doors.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, SMUT, Unprotected sex, mirror sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), light dominance, light choking (hand on throat), champagne-fueled decisions, emotional tension, slight political themes, post-sex awkwardness

A/N: Not a Thunderbolts* fic… I will be making sure this space stays spoiler free for a few weeks since I don’t want to spoil for anyone until they get the chance.

You weren't lobbying. Not really.

You were there to make sure your startup, barely past Series B funding and already on the radar of corporate predators, didn’t get chewed up and swallowed whole under the guise of 'infrastructure reform.' D.C. had a way of wrapping its greed in clean bills and smiling handshakes. You weren’t about to watch your work get buried under a competitor’s line item, or worse, co-opted by a conglomerate that didn’t understand the first thing about what you’d built.

Your company was scrappy, efficient, and bold, everything the legacy players hated. And you had no intention of letting a single careless vote collapse the years of sweat equity and innovation you’d bled for. You didn’t want favours. You wanted protection. An understanding. Leverage, if you were lucky.

But the fundraiser was unbearable.

Everyone either talked at you like you were some high-yield asset ripe for exploitation, or worse, like a walking checkbook with tits. You’d worn a sharp dress, tailored, matte black, the neckline modest, the slit at your thigh anything but, and still you felt like a prize pig at auction, trotted out for admiration, smiled at by men who never once asked the name of your company.

You played the part. Sipped the champagne. Nodded politely. It was exhausting, watching the glittering masks slip when they thought you weren’t worth the effort. And still, you stayed. Because someone had to protect what you’d built, and tonight that someone was you.

You were just deciding how quickly you could leave without burning too many bridges when you saw him.

Congressman Barnes.

Polished shoes. Classic black tuxedo. Crisp white shirt. Bowtie slightly askew, like he wanted to appear relaxed without actually letting his guard down. His posture was clean but coiled, all quiet control and unreadable calm. He gave you a small, acknowledging nod across the room, like he recognized the same bored exhaustion on your face that he felt in his bones.

He looked about as bored as you did.

Then his campaign manager leaned in, whispered something in his ear, you saw the shift in his shoulders, the faint sigh. You felt yourself groan inwardly. Another political animal sending their candidate your way, sniffing around to see what you were willing to pay to keep yourself ahead of the pack.

You’d seen the type. Hell, you’d dated the type. They smiled like wolves, hands warm and eyes calculating.

But Barnes didn’t start with a smile. He didn’t lead with a pitch, or some tired attempt at charm. Instead:

“You run that adaptive interface platform, right? For small logistics firms?”

You blinked, thrown slightly off balance. “That’s… oddly specific. Most people just call it ‘some tech thing.’”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Genuine. Quietly pleased with himself.

““My campaign manager said I should try being more charming. I figured knowing what you actually do was a decent start.”

That earned him a raised brow and a small sip of your drink. “So this is you charming me?”

“I’m trying,” he admitted, voice low as he stepped in just enough to share your air, but not enough to crowd. “I don’t like asking for money. I’d rather earn what I get.”

You let out a soft huff of a laugh, the corner of your mouth tugging up. “That makes two of us. Everyone here’s just charming enough to take your money, none of them want to hear why you felt the need to offer it in the first place.”

His brow arched with quiet interest. “And why do you?”

You hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of your glass. “Because I’ve watched too many people like me, too many sharp, brilliant startups, get crushed under policy written by people who’ve never actually built anything. I have money now, sure. But the world’s... complicated. One bill, one amendment, one line in the wrong place, and everything collapses.”

He nodded slowly, expression shifting from polite to something more real. “Yeah,” he said. “Feels like it’s all turning into some elaborate game lately. Everyone pointing fingers, selling favors, whoring themselves out for donations. It’s about who you shake hands with, not who you help. And that’s not what I signed up for.”

You tilted your head. “So what did you sign up for?”

Bucky looked at you then, really looked. Blue eyes steady and piercing, the kind of gaze that cut through all your practiced armour and found the person underneath. There was no sales pitch in that look, no calculation. Just something honest. Something that made your throat tighten. “Just trying to make sure life’s better for people who don’t have the time or power to fight for it themselves.”

For the first time that evening, you felt your defences slip.

You stayed put.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

It wasn’t supposed to happen. But the elevator ride had been quiet and charged, a weight of unspoken tension thick in the air between you. The kind that buzzed in the bones and made your fingers twitch with anticipation. He’d asked if you wanted to see the view from the top floor. Just the skyline, he'd said. Just five minutes. You'd known the invitation carried more than one meaning, and you'd said yes anyway.

The elevator climbed too slowly and too fast all at once. Neither of you said much, just sidelong glances, soft exhales, the space between you alive with heat. When the doors opened, he stepped aside to let you pass, hand brushing your lower back with a quiet confidence that sent a bolt of want through your spine.

The skyline passed in a blur. You vaguely remembered the glittering lights of the Capitol, the outline of the Washington Monument, but mostly, you remembered the click of his keycard, the soft whoosh of the suite door, and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He didn’t say a word as you stepped inside. Just followed, silent and watchful. You felt the warmth of him behind you, the weight of his gaze tracing the bare skin of your shoulders. The brush of his knuckles down your spine made you shiver, and then you turned, and he looked at you like a man starving.

Like he'd wanted to taste you since the moment he saw you across the room.

"You still want to see the view?" he murmured, voice deeper now, rougher around the edges. You didn’t answer with words. Just stepped toward him, fingers tugging the lapel of his tux with a boldness that surprised even you.

He kissed you like he meant to burn the memory into your skin. Like he was starving and you were the only thing that would satisfy. Champagne lingered on your tongue, on his lips, between the clink of teeth and the soft drag of breath.

And when he backed you toward the table, fingers already skimming the edge of your thigh, you knew, this wasn’t politics anymore. This was something reckless. Something raw. Something that had nothing to do with influence or strategy.

Just the way he needed you. And in that moment, you let yourself want him right back- recklessly, breathlessly, without second-guessing the consequences.

The taste of champagne still lingered on your tongue as his lips brushed the sensitive skin at your throat, sending a fresh shiver down your spine and pulling you back into the heat between you. The click of your heels echoing against marble as he backed you toward the suite’s glossy dining table,. Your breath hitched when he slid your dress up your thighs with practiced ease.

“Didn’t peg you for the type to soak through your panties just from a little political banter,” he murmured, crouching as he tugged your panties down your thighs, eyes flicking up with that same smirk. “You gonna let me see what all that sharp talk was hiding?”

You rolled your eyes at the line, but the breath caught in your throat when his fingers slid through your folds, spreading you open with reverent, maddening patience. The pads of his fingers were calloused, warm, utterly unhurried. They moved like he’d done this before, but never quite like this. Like you were different. Like he wanted to learn you, not just make you moan.

“Oh, fuck, ” you gasped, hips twitching at the contact, thighs trying and failing to stay still as that first spark of sensation bled into a full-body ache.

He watched intently, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, focused like you were a puzzle he already knew the solution to but wanted to work through anyway, piece by trembling piece. One finger traced your entrance, then two pressed inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. The stretch was maddening and perfect, your walls clenching around him in a greedy flutter.

You whimpered, grinding down on his hand, shameless in the way you chased his touch. The heel of your shoe slipped a little on the polished floor, but he didn’t let you go, just steadied you with his free hand, palm flat on your thigh.

“Look at you,” he murmured, half to himself. “Could ruin me on the floor of a damn hotel suite and not even break a sweat.”

He brought the slick digits to his mouth, sucked them clean with a groan that went straight to your core, his tongue slow and deliberate like he was savoring the taste.

“Sweetest thing I’ve had in weeks,” he said, voice low, lazy, wicked, before picking you up and placing you gently on the edge of the table like you belonged there. Then he sank to his knees between your legs with deliberate care, hands sliding under your thighs to spread you open wider.

He looked up once, gaze molten with hunger and reverence, then lowered his head between your legs.

His tongue flicked through your folds with slow, luxurious precision. Lips sealed around your clit like a man on a mission, like the night didn’t end until you were wrecked and trembling, laid bare for him in every way.

You gripped the table edge hard enough to bruise, head tilted back as a moan slipped from your lips, loud and unashamed. Champagne warmth buzzed through your bloodstream, lowering every inhibition, making you shameless. His mouth was hot and relentless, tongue circling your clit with infuriating expertise, teasing and coaxing until your thighs were shaking.

"Bucky, oh my god- " you gasped, voice catching when he sealed his mouth tighter around you and sucked. The sound that left you was raw, desperate, the kind of noise that filled a luxury suite and made your face flush with heat.

He moaned into you like your taste was heaven, hands tightening under your thighs as he buried his face deeper. His nose bumped your mound, tongue flattening and stroking in long, slow passes. When he shifted the angle, dragging the tip against that spot, just right- your body jolted.

"There," you breathed, grinding into his face. "Fuck, right there, don't stop."

He didn’t. If anything, he doubled down. He groaned, one hand releasing your thigh only to slip between your legs again. Two fingers pressed in, firm and slow, curling in rhythm with his tongue until your whole body was a tight coil of want.

Your legs tried to close around him, thighs locking reflexively, but he held you open with a rough, growled "Let me have it. Let go for me, sweetheart. Come on."

You shattered.

Pleasure built like a storm inside you, cresting fast and hard until it snapped, tearing through you with a raw, blistering heat that left your legs shaking and your breath stuttering. Your body locked for one suspended moment, every nerve on fire, before the aftershocks rippled through you- deep, pulsing waves that made you moan, helpless and high on the intensity. Your hips jerked, your back arched, a high whine leaving your lips as his mouth stayed on you through every pulse. You heard your name tumble from your mouth in a breathless, broken cry.

Even then, he didn’t stop. He licked you through it, gentle now, tongue tracing soft, lazy patterns until you were squirming from overstimulation, a laugh-sob catching in your throat.

He finally pulled back, lips glistening, breathing hard like he was the one who’d just come.

"Told you," he said, voice wrecked and low, kissing your inner thigh. "Sweetest thing I've had in weeks."

He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at you. Then he reached for your dress, the fabric bunching under his fingers as he eased it over your hips and up your body. You lifted your arms, dazed and pliant, letting him strip it away and drop it to the floor with quiet finality. He stepped back just long enough to shrug out of his shirt, fingers popping buttons open one by one before he pulled it free of his shoulders and let it fall.

You watched him, heart racing. His tie came off next. Then his belt. His slacks hit the floor with a soft rustle, and you caught your breath as he stepped out of them, bare and beautiful and hard for you.

He circled behind you, the heat of his bare chest pressing into your back. His hands slid over your waist, up your ribs, fingers splaying across your stomach. He kissed your shoulder, then your neck, slow, reverent, greedy. You tilted your head to the side, gave him space to devour the skin there. His cock nudged the curve of your ass, thick and hot and insistent.

"Come here," he rasped, walking you forward until the bed met your thighs. He turned you slightly, guiding you to the center of the mattress, facing the mirror across from it.

You leaned forward slightly, bracing yourself on your palms as he settled behind you. One hand slid between your thighs to guide himself as the other spread across your hip, grounding you. You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, and then, with one deep, slow thrust, he pushed into you.

Your mouth fell open, a moan tearing free as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Your eyes fluttered shut at the fullness, the thick, perfect pressure making your knees tremble. Behind you, Bucky groaned low and broken, hands tightening on your hips.

"Fuck, baby… you're so tight," he hissed through his teeth, voice strained with restraint.

You couldn’t find words. Just the burn, the ache, the pulse of pleasure radiating outward as he began to move, slow, dragging thrusts that had your eyes rolling back with every stroke. You heard the slick sound of your bodies meeting, felt the heat of his chest as he leaned in closer, his breath warm on your shoulder.

Then he pulled you upright, chest flush against your back, his hand sliding up to grip your throat with just enough pressure to hold you steady. The angle shifted, his cock spearing deeper as your spine arched and your legs widened in instinct. Your head fell back against his shoulder with a broken moan.

"Look," he rasped, turning your chin so your eyes met the mirror. "Look at me fucking you."

Your mouth parted as you watched the obscene beauty of it, his body pressed to yours, hips rolling up into you with power and purpose, your breasts moving with every thrust, that delicate chain swinging at your collarbone. His arm banded across your waist, anchoring you in place.

He rocked into you again, slow but deliberate, his breath ragged as he muttered, "God, you feel good, so fucking good."

You could only whimper in reply, eyelids fluttering, hips pushing back to meet him as slick pleasure gathered low in your belly again, tighter with every perfect stroke. Your eyes closed, breathing hard.

“Come on, open your eyes. Watch how good you look taking me,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “How perfect you look falling apart.”

You couldn’t look away.

Your gaze met your reflection, flushed skin, parted lips, the look of raw pleasure on your face as his cock filled you with slow, deliberate precision, each thrust deep and controlled, wringing gasps from your throat and arching your back with every stroke. Your fingers scrabbled behind you, finding purchase on his metal arm, nails digging into the vibranium plating as you gasped.

"Harder," you whispered, breath fogging the mirror. "Please, Bucky, "

He growled, the sound low and rough in your ear, and lost the last of his composure. Letting a go of the hold on you neck.

Bucky bent you over the bed, hand gripping your waist like he meant to leave fingerprints, thrusting rougher now, deeper. Each stroke punched a moan from your lips, loud and wrecked. The slap of skin meeting skin echoed through the suite.

Your name fell from his mouth in a strained, reverent groan as your walls clenched around him and you came with a sob, body jerking under the weight of it. The pleasure was blinding, your muscles trembling, your thighs shaking as you cried out, caught somewhere between ecstasy and surrender.

Bucky's grip tightened on your hips, a guttural noise tearing from his throat. "Fuck, fuck, doll, that's it, " he gasped, hips stuttering.

He snapped forward with one last deep, punishing thrust and came with a harsh grunt, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you. You could feelTitle: The Cost of Access the heat of it, the fullness, and it only made your body tighten again in response. His forehead dropped between your shoulder blades, breath hot and ragged against your spine.

Neither of you moved for a long, suspended moment, just the sound of breathing, the lingering echo of skin on skin, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the room. His hands softened on your hips, thumbs brushing soothingly across the skin he'd just gripped so fiercely. He leaned in, kissed the slope of your back, slow and reverent.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. The silence said everything.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

You woke before he did.

The suite was too quiet. Just the hush of morning traffic filtering up from the city streets, the hum of the minibar fridge, and the rhythmic, steady sound of his breathing. You lay still for a moment, letting the soft warmth of his body behind you linger before reality crept in through the gauzy light.

Sunlight spilled across the hotel floor in perfect rectangles. The room still carried the humid trace of last night- skin-warmed sheets, the musky whisper of sex clinging to the air, and the soft, fading note of his cologne drifting lazily through the quiet. You slid out from beneath the sheet slowly, quietly, careful not to disturb him. But before you moved too far, you glanced back over your shoulder.

His hair was a mess, dark strands falling over his forehead in soft, unruly waves. One arm was flung lazily over the pillow, the other tucked beneath it, his vibranium arm, glinting faintly in the morning light. His face was relaxed, softened in sleep in a way you hadn’t seen the night before. Vulnerable. Real.

You stared for a beat longer than you meant to, throat tight. Then you turned away and stepped lightly onto the floor.

You found your dress crumpled near the foot of the bed. Your shoes tucked half under a chair. Your phone facedown on the nightstand. No panties. You searched briefly, under the bed, beneath a cushion, and came up empty. Of course.

You didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t leave a note. Just smoothed your dress down, slipped your heels back on, and left with your hair a mess and your thighs sticky with the night before.

You didn’t want to be seen as the kind of woman who bought access with sex, who traded power and control for one night of heat and champagne-clouded recklessness. That wasn’t who you were.

And he… well, you weren’t sure if he’d think he sold it. If he’d wake and think you were just another wealthy donor slipping out before the illusion shattered.

You’d hovered for a moment near the minibar, fingertips grazing the notepad left beside the phone. You’d even picked up the pen. A part of you had thought about leaving a check, not for the good time, not for the sex, but because, for one brief, dangerous moment, you’d hoped he was the kind of man worth investing in. Someone who meant what he said, who could actually hold the line when others bent. Someone who might fight for the things that mattered.

But your hand had stilled.

What would he think if he found that? That you’d paid him for it? That he was just like the rest of them, bought and fucked and forgotten?

He wasn’t a whore. No matter what people thought of politicians.

You set the pen down.

Better to leave. You could make a donation later. Quietly. Through the proper channels. When it wouldn’t feel like an apology.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

You were halfway through your third coffee of the morning, hunched over a stack of budgets and investor notes when the intern knocked twice on your office door before pushing it open.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she said, holding out a slim envelope. “This came by courier earlier. It didn’t look like it was office mail.”

You frowned, setting your mug down and brushing your hair back. The envelope was plain, unmarked. Heavy cardstock. Your name printed neatly in the center. No return address.

You waited until the door closed again before sliding your thumb beneath the seal.

Inside: a familiar scrap of lace. Your panties, folded neatly, still carrying the faintest trace of his cologne and something unmistakably you. Your breath hitched when your fingers brushed the fabric, your cheeks flushing hot.

And a note. Typed. Crisp cardstock. No letterhead, no signature, but the message was clear. Unmistakably him.

‘We’ll finish what we started.’

Just beneath the line, in faint pen ink, scrawled as if added last second, in a hand you didn’t quite expect to look so neat, was one more sentence:

‘Next time, stay for breakfast.’

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #x female reader #smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader

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artsninspo · 8 months ago

Text

FORGIVELESS - I - NOT IN THE DARK ANYMORE 🌒

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

I - Not in the dark anymore

Author's Note: Record scratch … I was working through some writer's block when this concept came to me. Instead of letting it pass here it is. I can promise part two because it’s already outlined.

Pairing: Rio X Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Mature themes and mentions of cheating.

Summary: What is supposed to be a romantic date night with your husband quickly descends to a night of nightmares after meeting a charismatic entrepreneur named Rio with what you perceive to be an uncanny insight on your current situation.

Rio scans the floor of his newest business endeavour. He’s been successful at counterfeiting but now he needs new ways to wash his money. His bars had been doing so good he decided to move into the restaurant business. While notoriously fickle he didn't have the same financial restraints as other new owners. It only took him six months to find his foothold in the industry and now he had one of the city's most in demand establishments for special occasions. Looking around he spots a gentleman who was in the last time he’s stopped by to check on things. Looking across from the man he sees you sitting all done up. He needed strong attention to detail in his line of work. It was a safety precaution but your body language brings the situation into full view. Sitting back he looks under the table only to have his suspicions confirmed. The other woman had her foot up halfway to your dates crotch under the table.

“Table twelve seems familiar” he mutters to his general manager.

“Ahh, he was with a different girl. Excellent tip” His GM responds and Rio takes another look locating the ring set on your left hand. You were the wife.

“Decline all his reservations moving forward. I don’t care how well he tips. Only friends should be here that often.” Rio says watching closely. He had his principles in business and in life. There were simply some things men didn't do. Bringing their girlfriends to the city's best restaurants before their wives was top of mind.

“Done” the GM says as Rio makes his way into the back to look at the accounting. Everything needed to be in perfect working order for things to work. The restaurant would be a stepping stone to more. Food had never been a passion of his but he could sell an experience to people who wanted to pretend for a few hours. Besides, it had cost him virtually nothing and turned a huge profit every week. He steps out tucking his weekly take home pay behind the bar, walking around it to be served a drink. You're in his perfect line of sight. He watches you reach for your husband as he gets up, throwing cash down onto the table and kissing you goodbye. He watches you sigh and watch as he leaves. Shaking his head he turns back to his glass.

“Hey can you give the waiter this. I was sitting over there” Rio hears turning to you.

Fuck, shes bad.

His thoughts run the gamut as he looks you over. Thinking back to the other woman he rakes through his memory for her. She had nothing on you besides maybe being slightly younger.

“Thank you” hears cluing back into the conversation you're having with his bartender.

“I’ll have the third course brought to the bar” the bartender says with a smile.

“Perfect” you nod, sending him a smile.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Rio asks, looking you over. Turning, you are startled by a second by the handsome stranger wildly underdressed for the establishment.

“My husband took care of it thanks” you smile, making him do the same. He’s handsome.

“My husband took care of it” He mocks, chuckling to himself more amused than anything else. “Where is he?” Rio says bringing a glass to his lips.

“Something came up at work” you respond.

She believes the lie too. Rio smiles to himself looking up at the clock, “What, does he deliver babies? Is the hospital short staffed?”

“No, he’s a consultant with a global clientele. You know time zones” you explain.

“Time Zones couldn't keep me off my wife on a Friday night if she looked like you.” Rio comments. Your cheeks burn at the forward implications just as the third course is placed in front of you.

“Compliments of the chef,” the server smiles.

“Thanks” you smile. It looks great.

“Is it good?” Rio asks after a few minutes.

“Mhm” you nod weary of the flirtatious stranger.

“Which time zone clients do I have to thank for this?” Rio asks, pointing between the two of you.

“Japan” you respond.

“To Japan” Rio raises a glass. “Rio, by the way,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Y/N” you respond, shaking his hand.

“Y/N you’re too trusting” Rio says stirring the pot.

“If you want to keep this pleasant please don't disrespect my marriage” you respond and Rio raises his hands.

“Boss, can I get you anything?” the GM says as he sees Rio at the bar.

“Good thanks,” Rio nods.

Looking at him suddenly his simple attire makes sense. Simple and all black was classic and understated in spite of the black tie dress code. Clearly no one was sending him home and the restaurant's food was never on delivery menus. Owner. Not a service professional. You nod to yourself impressed with his accomplishment.

“You own this place?” you ask and he nods reluctantly.

“A few more lowkey spots around the city as well”

You offer cordial conversation.“Congrats, the food is good and it was hell to get reservations”

“Not for Y/N, not anymore.” he smirks and you shake your head. Rio laughs a little, he can't remember the last time he had to try so hard. Clearly you’d signed up for a lifetime of attention and here he was taking up for your husband's shortcomings.

“How kind” your tone is laced with sarcasm.

“I’m not kind, when you realise your man ain't shit you should eat good and stay fine. Do it here where I can see it. If you need to hire someone to beat his ass on your behalf come see me and I got you. I know people.” he says so cavalier it's off putting. There’s no more smirk and you feel slightly queasy in your stomach.

“That’s not funny” you frown.

“I don’t think so either but there’s a very short list of things that could make me leave you at the table. Work isn't one of them, Love” he mutters. Deep down you know he’s right. Something isn't right with your husband James. Recently work has taken precedent. His promotion has been taking all of his attention leaving very little to you. To make matters worse you moved here away from your family, friends and support system to be his. He’d been reluctant to have you move and has put very little time into helping you adjust to the move along with spending quality time. Work has affected all facets of your life including his libido. It was why Rio was practically foaming at the mouth with dilated pupils at the sight of you. It was a three hour process and special creation to set the mood for the night but James hadn’t reacted how you wanted him to. Japan had been at the forefront of his mind. He’d checked his phone more times than you found necessary before getting a call. He spent five minutes in the washroom before coming back and telling you he needed to rush to the office. Reaching forward you wave for the bartender.

“I've lost my appetite. Please thank the waiter” you smile standing from the bar stool. He nods and Rio rises at the same time. His hands go into his pockets following you out as all the staff bid the ‘boss’ goodbye. You hand the valet your ticket first and yet somehow Rio’s G-Wagon appears before your car. He smirks, having made an impression. When your car rolls around Rio gets the door after the valet gets out.

“I’m at the Clique most weekends. Sevens bar during the week, in case you need a man handled. Drive safe, Love” he says once you're in the driver's seat and buckled in. You wonder why you havent told him to fuck off yet until you see an eerie honesty in his eyes.

Your drive home is in complete silence with the exception of your signals and the natural sounds of the road. You feel too unsettled to relax. Once in your house you have to stop yourself from walking a track across your living room rug. You take a bath which does not work to settle your nerves. You brew valerian root tea when all else fails and there is still no peace. You lay in your marital bed tossing and turning until you hear the garage. It’s after three in the morning. You contemplate your options and hear James coming up the stairs ten minutes later. You slow your breath and close your eyes pretending to be asleep. The door opens and he enters walking straight into the ensuite bathroom. Silent tears roll down your eyes. He gets in bed without giving you any affection allowing your mind to run wild. Your alarm wakes you at 7am and you head downstairs to prepare his breakfast for his day ahead. Saturday mornings and afternoons are for golf and client relations. You throw something together quickly and head upstairs to find him in the shower. You spot his phones on the nightstand and grab his personal device.

You try a few passcodes when his work phone starts buzzing. Forfeiting his personal device something drives you to check his work phone. You unlock the phone from memory and scroll through his messages. There are client names you recognize, all with flags attached to them. A message from Japan comes in and you open it only for your stomach to fall.

You scroll for what feels like forever screen recording quickly as you make it up to three weeks. Heartbroken you airdrop yourself the evidence before breaking into his personal phone with new conviction. You nearly drop it when you see nudes and explicit messages. Your hand is trembling as you hear the water stop. You delete your screen recordings from the work phone, locking both devices and laying them as they were. Your hearts in your ass, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to fall. You walk into your office screaming into a pillow. Unable to act like all is well you stay put in there. James shouts you a goodbye before leaving. You pull up the security footage and scroll as far back as you can see. Your only consolation is he hasnt brought the whore back to your home. Still, it doesn't erase the intimacy of the messages. It doesn't erase the deceit and callousness of his lies and actions. It doesn't erase your heartache or the fact that he’s been lying heartlessly for months. Doesn’t negate the truth of his libido being well and intact, not for you but for her.

You sit for hours in a daze ignoring your daily routine before deciding to head to the spa. Heading upstairs you take off your rings, unable to wear the gifts from such a low down asshole. A manicure, pedicure, sauna and a full body massage doesnt bring you any reprieve. You still feel terrible as clarity dawns. You get the full picture of his betrayal. The pain is too much. Eight years together, five married and this is what it's come to. The visual of his mistress pleasuring herself is etched into your mind, along with the messages between them. Worst of all was the most recent. The mistress thanking your husband for blowing you off to care for her needs. Sitting in the lot of the spa after hours you punch the steering wheel before leaning into it and honking until you’ve stopped screaming.

Anger wins. Visualising James in the hospital brings you more peace than everything else you've tried. Looking in his eyes pretending to be shocked and concerned while being the root of his current predicament is the kind of sweet karma that allows you to exhale for the first time in hours. Hospital visits because you got him fucked up for his indiscretion. After years of being whatever he wanted whenever. Without even a heads up or him expressing any discontent. Blindly trusting him when he’s been in another relationship. Bystanders look in shock as you pull out of the lot burning rubber with one destination in mind.

Club Clique, to see a man named Rio.

Author's Note: thanks for reading, this one will be a little fast paced and unhinged. Very toxic because from what I can see that's what you all enjoy most. Rio being messy was my favourite part! Like, Comment, Reblog and interact with the poll.

» next part

All my love,

xoxo

#masterlist #rio x reader #rio x you #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana x reader #rio imagine #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #rio good girls imagine

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pukefactory · 12 days ago

Note

I wonder what would happen in the scenario of BBQ ENA meeting a functional Psychopath?

The more "realistic" Psychopath you know? Not an axe murderer but somebody who became part of society through their disorder being seen and "helped" as best as people could.

I think a psychopath reader would be spefically interesting for ENA because FP's tent to have a big connection to jobs and such because their lack of empathy can help in getting ahead in the workplace.

I'm just wondering about that scenario - whatever it goes well or not. :)

Now that’s a character type ENA wouldn’t see coming until it’s far too late—and maybe that’s the point. Someone polished like a dinner knife, honed by HR seminars and a rising corporate ladder, all smiles and performance reviews and the steady absence of guilt. They’d meet like two opposing frequencies: ENA, a burst of erratic color and raw poeticism, and Reader, calmly unreadable, their conscience like a dial turned all the way down.

Salesperson would love you at first. Oh, you’re efficient! You’re punctual! You close deals and never flinch at difficult calls. “YOU look like a fellow entrepreneur. Let me shake your hand and collect your genius germs.” She’d practically glitter in your presence, feeding off your precision, your strategy, your apparent normalcy—even if that normalcy is a carefully manufactured performance stitched together from studied behavior and a lack of remorse. She’d be delighted to brainstorm your career path together. Business partners! Power couple! No conscience required.

But Meanie would squint at you. Hard. She’d see the gaps. The emptiness behind your motivations. The way you mirror her tone just a little too well. “What exactly do you feel when you’re alone?” she’d ask, voice flat, eyes narrowing. “Do you feel anything, or are you just waiting for your next line of code?”

That’s where it gets interesting.

Because you do like her. Not out of empathy, not out of some delusion of love—but out of intellectual fascination. ENA is a riddle box of emotion, unpredictable and loud and real in a way you can’t mimic. You study her. You don’t understand why her sadness takes the shape of a cracked green face, or why her laughter sounds like an ad jingle layered over someone crying, but you want to. She’s chaos. You’re calculation. Together, it’s friction. Heat. And maybe…maybe even a spark.

The question isn’t if it goes well. The question is how long it goes well before something cracks.

Maybe ENA talks too much one day. Pokes the wrong corner of your mind. Asks about terrible things.

Maybe you slip up—say something cold, something true. Watch her recoil.

Maybe she doesn’t run. Maybe she laughs instead.

“Fascinating!” she chirps, eyes glowing in two opposing colours. “You terrify me in the most motivational way!”

You’re the calm eye in her storm. And she’s the noise in your sterile little mind. It could work—if neither of you ever look too closely at the fine print.

It could fall apart—precisely because you do.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

Text

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 3] l Harry Castillo

Summary: you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), some wine, mentioning ex-boyfriend,

A/N: my head has been having bad days lately. it took me a long time to start this chapter and I had moments of doubt whether it makes sense at all. but here it is and although it's not perfect I'm giving it to you. I hope that at least a few people will like it. thank you for reading my scribbles.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

Harry Castillo: Is everything okay between us?

You: Sure! Don't worry.

He stared at those three words with childish hope, even though his insides were full of fears and worries. You were his assistant, his friend, and he really cared about you. The situation that had arisen that evening was a bit awkward, and Harry was even ready to apologize to you for it. But maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it at all?

He breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened at the appointed time and you stepped out. The dress you were wearing beautifully accentuated your figure, which moved gracefully as you walked to the car.

“Stay.” Harry said quickly to the driver and got out of the car, then went to open the door for you. “Hi. You look stunning.”

A shy smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you. You don't look too bad either." You replied.

A few seconds later, you were both sitting on the leather couch in the back of a limo as the driver drove you through the crowded city. The silence between you wasn't unbearable, but it certainly wasn't natural. You could feel Harry's quick glances at you, but it took you a few minutes to decide to say something.

"Mrs. Kruger-Waltz should be here after the weekend. I got an email this morning."

Speaking of work, a safe topic. Harry cleared his throat. “Good. Sorry you had to deal with that today, you probably had a lot of work to prepare for.”

"Not really. I just put on what was hanging somewhere in the back of my closet. You should be glad it's not my prom dress."

You both chuckled and the tense atmosphere seemed to ease a little.

"I wanted to apologize." This time, Harry spoke up. "I made you feel awkward yesterday. That could have been very uncomfortable for you."

“It’s fine, really.” You replied, looking at him as if you were waiting for him to finally end this conversation. “We know perfectly well that nothing will happen. You and I, we only work together.”

"Right. But either way... I'm sorry."

You instinctively reached out and lightly squeezed his forearm. "It's fine."

You exchanged uncertain smiles. In reality, you had all night to think about everything that had happened. The conclusion was simple - you had both succumbed to the moment, but luckily your brain reacted at the last moment before it became a disaster. It was comforting, because you really liked Harry and you didn't want something like this - stupid? irrelevant? pointless? - to ruin a really great relationship. Besides, Castillo was your boss, and no normal person kisses their boss, even if he looked like...

You quickly glanced at Harry sitting next to you. He looked really good in that suit that was tailored to his order. No matter if you saw him in a formal or casual version, the man always looked good, even though he put in minimal effort. How on earth had no woman ever kept him around for longer? It was a mystery to you.

"Get ready." He said as the car pulled up in front of the building. Brown eyes looked at you and after a moment he added. "If you want to leave, just say so. There's nothing keeping us here."

You nodded, feeling your stomach twist into knots.

Even though you and Harry had been to a few of these types of parties, you hadn't learned to behave yourself around the distinguished guests alone. Suddenly, the dress you were wearing looked cheap and boring, and you certainly weren't as pretty as most of the women there.

But Harry was always there, making sure you didn't get lost among the people and every now and then throwing in some funny remarks that relieved some of the stress.

“You have to come visit us sometime, Harry. L.A. will give you everything you want.” Mr. Murphy, the older man Castillo was talking to, patted him on the shoulder paternally. “And bring your lovely companion. Have you ever been to the City of Angels, young lady?”

You smiled at him over your glass of champagne. “I haven’t had the chance.” Harry shot you a quick, furtive glance. “But I trust your word, it’s certainly stunning.”

"Not like you, not like you!" Murphy laughed "I have to apologize now. I see Mr. Donovan is heading our way, and I need to talk to him."

You said your goodbyes and were alone again for a while. The party really wasn't that bad, except for a few boring speeches and weak toasts. Harry was often approached by guests, and you politely stepped aside, trying not to bother them. However, when another businessman approached him, you quickly signaled to him that you were going to the toilet and disappeared among the crowd.

The clock in the lobby showed that it was slowly approaching 11pm as you passed more and more people. You enjoyed watching them. Perfect looking, dressed in expensive clothes, adorned with jewelry straight from the best jewelers, smelling of the most exclusive perfumes. It was Harry Castillo who gave you the opportunity to see this part of the world, and you still felt like a tourist there.

"We've been running into each other a lot lately, don't you think?"

You turned around and spotted him immediately. Daniel was smiling as he walked over to you. The knot you had in your stomach the entire party tightened even more.

"Daniel!" you plastered a smile on your face, "It's nice to see you again."

The man looked around, then leaned in slightly towards you. "You're not alone here, are you?"

"No. I'm here with Ca... With Harry." At the last moment, you bit your tongue, and warmth crept up to your chest. You didn't want to continue with this lie, but the situation demanded it. "And you? Is Beth here too?"

He shook his head. "She wasn't feeling well today. It would have been better to stay home."

"Right."

You looked at each other for a moment until Daniel finally offered to walk you to the hall where the guests were gathered and where you had left Harry. You were going through all the possible sentences you could say to get rid of Daniel when someone gently took your arm.

You turned to see Mr. Murphy, who was smiling politely at you. “Sweetheart, please tell Mr. Castillo I’ll call him next week. Of course, my offer still stands—I think your boss should take you to Los Angeles with him. We’d love to have you over for dinner.”

"Of course, Mr. Murphy. I'll tell him everything. Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah, yeah. I've got an early flight and I'd like to catch a nap. These parties..." he looked around the room and laughed, "they're all for the young. Take care of yourself, darling."

He bowed once more and quickly walked away towards the exit. Only when he disappeared from your sight did you realize that Daniel had been listening to you the whole time, and now he was watching you closely.

"Are you Castillo's assistant?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. We work together." you replied, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Daniel shook his head and smiled uncertainly. "I just thought that you and him... I thought that you..."

"Oh! I finally found you."

You felt a familiar scent and a strong arm wrap around your waist. Harry. You didn't know he had been watching you since you entered the room, and Daniel's presence next to you intrigued him a little. He decided to appear next to you the moment he noticed your figure becoming more tense. He knew your body language very well.

"Mr. Castillo." Daniel nodded, greeting the man. "Again, I met your lovely companion first."

"Careful, I'm starting to suspect you want to steal her from me." Harry joked, his fingers lightly squeezing your side to signal 'I'm here with you'.

Daniel smiled again, his eyes darting between you as if he wanted to catch any little gesture or grimace that might tell him something more. “Don’t worry, I already have my own assistant. Although I assure you, yours is just as good.”

“She's the best, right, honey?”

You were so surprised by what Daniel had said that it took a split second for you to realize Harry had leaned down and brushed his lips against your temple. It was barely noticeable, but it achieved its purpose because something in Daniel's gaze changed. You could almost see his brain working overtime.

You didn't know what to do, how to escape this place. But Harry was by your side, which was a small relief. You weren't alone. The lie continued.

“Forgive us, Daniel.” Castillo spoke again. “We wanted to go home. It’s been a long day.”

"Of course. It was very nice to see you again, Mr. Castillo."

They nodded at each other, and then you felt Harry steer you toward the exit. Your legs struggled to carry you down the hallway. The knot in your stomach was so bad you were sure you were going to throw up. If bad things came in pairs, that was likely.

"He's watching."

Harry's quiet voice echoed by your ear. You turned your head slightly and looked at him in surprise. "Who?"

"Daniel." Harry replied. "He's watching us. I think he's starting to suspect something."

You blinked quickly, taking a deep breath. “Does it still matter? Murphy told him I was your assistant.”

"That doesn't have to change anything."

You stopped at the door to let a larger group of guests pass. You didn't dare look at Daniel, you couldn't. But you saw Harry's face and there was something indescribable in it. A mixture of concern, support for you, kindness.

"Do you want him to think you're just an assistant?" he asked. "Of course, you're more than that, but he doesn't know that."

"He thinks we're together." you mumbled, looking down. "Just take me home, Harry. I feel bad enough for tonight."

When he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, you didn't even flinch. Harry gently tilted your face up to look at him, it seemed so natural that you didn't know what to say or how to react.

"You don't owe him anything." he said, his voice quiet and warm, soothing. "And you can definitely give him something to think about."

"You think so?" your voice was close to a whisper.

"Yes. That's a brilliant idea."

Harry leaned in, your lips inches apart, until you finally felt his warm breath. You didn't resist, you didn't run away. It was so intoxicating that you even waited for it. When your lips touched, you felt something incredible happen. A soft and tender kiss, just a brush of lips. Nothing that would make you uncomfortable, but it was hard not to sink into it completely.

When Harry pulled away a quiet sigh escaped your chest.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

You didn't know why you cared that Daniel Stevens, your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, thought you and your boss, Harry Castillo, were together. It didn't make any sense at all. But lately, fate really hadn't been on your side, and every time you'd met up, you felt like you were sinking deeper into a senseless lie.

God! It wasn't even a lie at first. Just an understatement. Now everything was changing faster and faster. You were losing control of everything.

That kiss, it shouldn't have happened at all. Harry was your boss and you really liked him, but it wasn't right. But when you got in the car, neither of you said a word. The emotions and thoughts were so intense inside you that you preferred to keep your mouth shut before something you might regret later slipped out.

The car drove you home, Castillo opened the door for you again, and you said goodbye. No more words, no sign that he was thinking the same thing. Lying in bed, you almost envied him—your head felt like an amusement park in the height of the season, and he was probably already asleep.

"Please, hold the elevator!"

At the last moment, a hand held the door open, allowing you to slip inside. You gasped, “Thank you,” leaning against the cold metal wall as someone next to you shifted, then said your name.

“If I didn’t know you worked for Castillo, I’d think you were stalking me.” Daniel stood next to you, smiling nonchalantly as if this meeting was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” You replied, embarrassed, straightening up. “At this hour, I’m a bit…”

"Yeah, I know." He finished for you.

The elevator slowly began to rise, and you were silent for a few more floors. Finally, you spoke up. Maybe too nervously, but you had to ask. “I’ve never seen you in this building before. Do you have a meeting here?”

"Yes!" Daniel smiled and lifted his briefcase. "My client is already here."

"Oh. That's good."

But when the elevator stopped on your floor and you got off, you realized that Daniel was next to you again. The anxiety in your heart grew with each step, and when you reached your desk, you heard Daniel talking to Susan.

"I got a message that Mrs. Kruger-Waltz is already here. She's waiting for me."

"Yes, please hold on a moment." Susan reached for the receiver and dialed Castillo's internal number. Soon her voice filled the room again. "Mr. Stevens is here... Yes, she's already here too... Of course. Thank you."

With a soft click, the receiver returned to its place. “Mr. Stevens, you may come in.” And then your name was called. “Mr. Castillo is expecting you as well.”

Susan smiled politely, not even realizing that you felt like she was inviting you to the gallows. But you couldn’t refuse, so you grabbed the bare necessities and headed for the glass doors, trying to remember to breathe.

The office was brightly lit, and you immediately noticed Harry, who was sitting in a comfortable chair by the coffee table. He smiled when he saw you, then nodded towards the woman sitting on the couch. She was beautiful. Long blonde curls fell over her shoulders, and ruby lipstick adorned her lips. She looked like a classic beauty, dressed in a well-fitted dress.

“This is Mrs. Diane Kruger-Waltz,” Harry said, and the woman nodded politely. “And I think we already know each other?”

Only then did you remember that Daniel had come in with you.

“Yes! Good morning, Mr. Castillo.” They shook hands, and the man moved toward Kruger-Waltz to sit some distance away from her. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

“Easy, Daniel.” The woman laughed lightly, showing white teeth. “It was just a very nice chat for now. You didn’t tell me that Mr. Castillo was such a charming man.”

"I asked you to call me Harry." Your boss reminded her, and then he showed you the other chair.

You sat up, feeling like you had “liar” written all over your forehead, and you hadn’t even done anything wrong. But you couldn’t let anything show. As conversation filled the office again, you took a deep breath and opened your notebook, ready to write down everything that was said there.

You were an assistant after all. Castillo was your boss. And this was your job.

Shit.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#pedro pascal #harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #the materialists #a beautiful little lie series

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