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#i seriously don’t want to do this anymore i don’t want to be here i can’t do it everyone knows i’m not cut out for this they all talk shit
dirtyvulture · 16 hours
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Envy and Venom - Part 2
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4911
AN: Didn't think I'd write this, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. :)
Click here for Part 1!
DAY 2
“I can’t believe you,” Tony says, watching as you anxiously like a caged animal. “I mean, I can, because Romanoff is smoking hot, but really? On your first day?”
“I didn’t know who she was!” you snap, your stomach churning in knots. You hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, even ignoring the hot black coffee your secretary Wanda had waiting for you like usual when you arrived to the office.
“Literally the daughter of the guy of our biggest rival,” Tony says, clearly only trying to make you feel worse than you already feel.
“I know who he is!” you bark, well familiar with Alexei Shostakov, the enormous, bearded and beer-bellied Russian who had once been on the board of directors at Envy Industries. Alexei was long gone from your dad’s company by the time you entered the scene, and at that point had formed Black Widow Corporation into a juggernaut. Word on the street was that Alexei used “unconventional methods” to stay ahead of competitors and now you wondered if you had fallen right into one of those traps. 
“Why was Romanoff even at the party in the first place?” you ask.
“Why do you think?” Tony scoffs. “Daddy probably sent her to mess with you and no offense…but it worked.”
“We don’t know that,” you defend, although your gut is telling you that Tony is right. 
“So, what did you tell her?” Tony asks, kicking his chair back to wobble on its hind legs.
“Nothing!” You sigh, your brain scrambling to remember your interaction with Natasha before you took her up to your suite. “Uh, I mean…I mentioned the contract we have with Tesla. But a bunch of other people probably overhead too, and that’s not exactly a secret anymore.”
“Mhmm, sure. Anything else?” Tony prompts.
“No. No, nothing else,” you say with an edge of uncertainty. “There wasn’t really much time for talking, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know you, you horndog.” He waves at you.
For once, you feel immensely guilty about not being able to control your behavior. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to face the consequences of the people you chose to take to bed with you, but none had been this jarring or dangerous. You feel used, even though you truly hadn’t revealed any company secrets to Natasha. Just the thought that she knew who you were, and wasn’t honest with you about herself, made your whole interaction with her feel slimy and fake. While you also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were in love with someone you just met, even you won’t deny there had been some kind of spark between you two, but perhaps it had all been manufactured. 
You genuinely want to see Natasha again, hopefully in more honest circumstances, and not just purely for the physical pleasure of it. You knew she was one of the few women on Earth who truly understood your line of work. She didn’t need to pretend (or even study ahead) like some of the partners you had in the past. She was beautiful and smart and managed to turn you into a stuttering, whipped mess in less than ten minutes. No one else had ever been able to do that, and as humbling as it was, it was also hot as hell.
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask, pulling at the suffocating collar of your shirt. 
“First of all, don’t see her ever again,” Tony responds, and it sounds like he’s telling you you’re not allowed to breathe anymore.
“Fuck,” you grumble, because you know he’s right, but it won’t be that easy to just forget about Natasha. 
“Seriously, Y/N,” Tony goes on. “You have a whole company to run now. Let the media say what they want, but promise me that you won’t be caught with that woman ever again.”
“Caught, you say?” you tease, knowing that he would always offer you a way out.
“I know you,” he repeats. “Besides, I heard she has a sister.”
You laugh, the tense mood lightening considerably. “Yeah, sure, I’ll put in a good word for you when I see her again.”
“You’re the best.” Tony stands up to give you a high-five.
***********************************************************************
Natasha hums to herself as she opens her laptop. She plugs in her headphones and boots up the application that is connected to the microphone she slipped into your jacket pocket. Over 12 hours of audio have already been recorded. Just out of curiosity, she scrolls to the first hour.
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?”
“Shut up and let me fuck you.”
Natasha feels her core light up with desire as she remembers the previous night with you. It had been a long time since she had been fucked so well and you certainly lived up to the hype. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember how your body had felt against hers, the way your muscles flexed in warning when you were about to finish but were waiting for her permission, the intoxicating taste that coated her tongue and had her (quite literally) demanding more and more from you.
“Hey, sestra.” Yelena walks in without knocking, and Natasha’s eyes snap open, tearing off her headphones and closing the audio application.
“What?” she growls, annoyed by the interruption.
Yelena smirks at her. “How was the party last night?”
“Good.”
Yelena doesn’t look convinced. “Did you see that TMZ article?”
“Anyone who relies on that hack as a legitimate source of information is just setting themselves up for disappointment.”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Yelena states, walking up to Natasha and showing her her phone. 
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Below the headline is a grainy photo of her almost sitting on your lap, both of your heads leaned close together. 
“What’s your point?” Natasha asks, pushing Yelena’s phone away from her face.
“Did Dad approve of this?”
“What does his approval have to do with anything?” Natasha snaps. “I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want–”
“We’re not stupid, Natasha,” Yelena frowns. “And you aren’t either. You aren’t getting mixed up with just anyone, this is the CEO of Envy Industries–”
Natasha waves her hand. “Just stop, Yelena. I know what I’m doing, okay? And I’m the one who’s going to take over the company when Dad steps down, so I need to make sure that we are on top and stay that way.”
Yelena’s expression softens. “Just be careful, sestra. You don’t know what some of these people are capable of.”
“Like Y/N?” Natasha laughs. “She’s just a big rich idiot. I could steal her entire company right from under her nose and she’d just go fill her bed with Victoria’s Secret models and forget it by the next morning.”
“Please be careful, Nat,” Yelena begs. “Do not forget what happened last time–”
“That was in the past. I know better now,” Natasha dismisses, although the hair on the back of her neck rises at the memory. She had been too cocky, too arrogant, and nearly lost her life as a result. But she was certain that wouldn’t happen with you. She had you eating out of the palm of her hand even before the mind-blowing sex. You’d happily hand her the keys to Envy Industries if she promised you five minutes in bed. 
“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha gruffs, turning back to her computer. “Close the door on your way out.”
Yelena doesn’t respond and backtracks. Natasha waits until she hears the click of her door to open the files on her flash drive that contains the data stolen from your systems. None of your files are even password-protected. Maybe your company was even more of a joke than she thought.
***********************************************************************
DAY 14
Tesla backs out of contract with Envy Industries, reportedly in talks with Black Widow Corporation for GPUs
DAY 15
Envy Industries (ENVY) stock drops 15%
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) stock up 10%
DAY 18
Tesla hires Black Widow Corporation to produce hardware for upcoming Model 2
DAY 24
Black Widow Corporation announces AI supercomputer project
DAY 30
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) joins the Magnificent Seven stocks, knocking Envy Industries (ENVY) out
“You need to fix this. Now.”
“I’m trying!” you practically sob, staring at the same headline on your computer that your father is looking at. 
Your first 30 days as CEO had been an absolute whirlwind–of defeats. First, an intern at Tesla had called you to tell you the deal was off. And then to hear that they were taking up business with Black Widow Corporation was like a sucker punch to the gut. No one at your company could understand how Black Widow suddenly had the technology you’d been working on for months, but a nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were the only person who knew the answer.
But you couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure. After all, you had spent one night with Natasha Romanoff, most of it in bed with her getting your brains fucked out. But she had left even before you woke up, and there was no way to confirm if she had managed to get her hands on the confidential information that your company was built upon.
Whatever had happened, Envy Industries was on a steady decline ever since you had taken over and it was not a good feeling. The stock prices were tanking and now you had lost your spot amongst the prized “Magnificent Seven”–also known as the seven highest-valued companies in the United States. It was embarrassing, shameful, and upsetting. The board of directors were having daily meetings about your leadership qualities and you were worried they would boot you from the position any day now. Your father still had some influence, despite stepping down, but with the way he was speaking to you now, you weren’t sure he was going to defend you anymore.  
“I don’t care how Black Widow Corp got the intel. They have it now and we can’t get it back. You need to raise security protocols and if anyone is caught leaking information, they will be publicly humiliated and sued to kingdom come,” your dad rages through the phone. 
“Yes, yes, I agree,” you say.
“You need to focus on recovering from this. What’s done is done. But if you let it get worse, there will be severe consequences. For the company, for its future, and for you.”
“Yes. Yes, Dad,” you gulp.
“Stop fucking around and get your shit together,” he says. “You have a reputation that precedes you and thousands of people are depending on you to see them through this. Envy will come back. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you repeat hollowly, not even convinced of your own words.
“Good girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay. Bye, Dad.” You hang up and put your phone face-down on your desk, staring once more at the headline. For the first time, you don’t feel sad, you feel angry. You want to lash out at something–someone. Preferably the person or persons who put you in this predicament. You didn’t deserve this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to mope around and let them continue to take advantage of you.
There’s a heavy knock on your door.
“Hey, Y/N. Ready for lunch?” It’s Tony.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” You whip your burgundy blazer off the back of your chair with more force than necessary; it gets twisted upside-down and something falls out of the pocket. You squat to pick it up. It’s a black, small, flat circular device that blinks red and there’s tiny little ridges in the center to indicate some kind of microphone.
What the hell is this? you think. You look back at your burgundy jacket. It’s the same one you were wearing the day you were made CEO, the night you met Natasha Romanoff. It wasn’t your most worn jacket, making the occasional appearance if you felt it complimented the rest of your outfit, but spending most of its time hanging in the front of your closet.
A disturbing thought enters your head. This little device couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? But you knew tech better than most people. And you knew that Black Widow Corporation had somehow gotten ahold of confidential information that was causing catastrophic damage to your company.
It takes all of five seconds to formulate a plan. 
You slip the audio recorder back into your pocket and put your jacket on.
Two could play at this game.
“Hey, Tony. Where are we going for lunch?” you call out, trying to keep your voice flat and clear.
“The steakhouse!” But his voice is muffled through the door.
“The steakhouse? The one on 6th Avenue, right?” you ask.
“Unless you suddenly have a new favorite that’s not on 6th,” he grumbles.
“Nope, that’s fine. Let me go check on something in the lab and I’ll be ready.”
***********************************************************************
“What’s wrong with you? Did they get your order wrong?” Tony asks as you poke at the slab of beef on your plate. 
“I’m just not really hungry,” you say. “You know, since our whole company is falling apart and everything.”
“Well, it’s still standing the last time I checked.” You appreciate how straightforward Tony is. Granted, he isn’t under the same kind of pressure as you, but you need someone who can be this cool under pressure in your life. “And I know you can’t be productive on an empty stomach. Should we order those crab legs you like?” 
“No more food please,” you mumble, pushing your plate away from you. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Hurry back. Or I’ll order the whole appetizer menu!”
“Okay, whatever.” But you smile as you walk away from the table to the back. You look at your reflection in the gold gilded mirror, noticing the clear stress lines in your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the way your cheeks are more hollowed in because you aren’t eating your usual 4,000 calories a day.
You rinse your hands in the sink and pat water on your face. You hear the door open behind you and your heart starts pounding faster. Had your plan worked?
“What’s wrong, honey?” Her voice snaps you to attention, velvety and seductive just like how you remember hearing it the first time. You turn to see Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall, wearing a white blouse ready to burst at its buttons along with black slacks and towering heels. Her hair loosely bounces on her shoulders and her exposed wrists and neck are adorned with more jewelry than you can count. 
“You,” you growl, striding over to her in three big steps and glaring down at her. “Are we adding stalker charges to your growing list of crimes now?”
“What are you talking about?” Natasha tilts her head to the side dumbly. “I’m here for lunch, just like you. A coincidence isn’t a crime–”
You pull the little audio device out of your pocket. Natasha’s eyes widen for a second before she quickly turns her expression into one of defiance, but she’s already given away her familiarity. “So this is how you’ve been stealing all of our ideas, huh?” you ask. 
“You have no proof that came from me,” she objects.
“I guess not.” You toss the device to the floor and stomp on it so hard with your Gucci loafers that it crumbles with an audible crunch. “And now we’ll never know. But now you’ll have to leave alone for a little bit, right? You have to give us some time to come up with more ideas for you to steal–”
“It’s nothing personal,” Natasha insists. “Business is business, isn’t it?”
“Well, once you put my reputation at risk–” You move one step closer until your chests almost bump. “–My future at risk–” You lower your head until you’re practically breathing on her face. Natasha doesn’t shy away. In fact, you think you see a glint of triumph in her green eyes. “–It becomes very, very personal.”
The tension between you is so thick it’s suffocating. You refuse to break eye contact with Natasha, but you’re not even sure what your next move should be. You know that you should hate this woman, should be calling for her head and outing her to the media for the literal crimes she’s committed, but you also want her. She hadn’t left your mind since the day you met her and knowing that she had been spying on you this whole time was both infuriating and a little arousing. 
Natasha suddenly grabs onto the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her until your lips crash together. You hate that the contact makes you feel relief, and you wonder if part of your recent frustration can be attributed to the fact that all this time you were secretly yearning for the same woman who was responsible for ruining your life.
“Things between us are very, very personal,” Natasha whispers, her hands slipping under your shirt to scratch across your abdomen. The coldness of her skin makes you want to cringe away, but her fingers hook onto your belt to keep you from going too far.
“Did you get jealous listening to all the girls I was fucking?” you ask.
“No,” Natasha says, but her cheeks redden and you know she’s lying. “But none of them could make you moan the way I do.”
“I wished they were you,” you admit, panting against her forehead as she undoes your belt. “Which is a fucked up thing to say given what you’ve been doing to my company.”
“I’m very good at what I do, baby,” Natasha says, pressing another hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stop fucking with my company,” you growl, but your threat is significantly undermined by the whimper you let out when her fingers trace down the V-line of your hips to your center. 
“Would you rather I fuck you over your company?” she asks.
“Shit,” you gasp, unable to focus on her question when two fingers slip into you. You’re embarrassingly soaked for her, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had wet dreams of letting Natasha Romanoff fuck you ever since your first encounter. You fall back against the wall, panting as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Someone might walk in,” you warn, suddenly reminded about the forbiddenness of this relationship.
“I locked the door,” Natasha says, using her free hand to tug down the collar of your shirt so she can lick and kiss the skin of your neck. You bite on your lip to muffle your moan, your hands going to hold her hips roughly, pulling her closer to you. Her fingers curl and her thumb presses hard into your clit. You feel yourself clench tightly around her and your knees are ready to buckle. “For the record, I did miss you too.” 
“What took you so long?” You have no idea how you’re able to hold a conversation with Natasha Romanoff while she fucks you, but here you are. Your hands wander towards her ass, cupping her solidly and almost lifting her off the floor. 
“I had to wait,” she answers simply, her thumb flicking against your clit and your stomach burns with the stimulation. The slick noises of her fingers sliding into you is downright filthy and you rock your hips forward to urge her to move faster.
“What did you…have to wait…for?” you pant. “Your stocks to…overtake…mine?”
“Sure, baby,” Natasha says, nibbling at your collarbone and marking you with a dark hickey. You still have enough consciousness to notice the way she dodges your question. “You want to cum for me?” she asks, pistoning her hand faster.
“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, already on the verge of finishing. You adjust the angle of your hips so she can reach deeper, her fingers brushing past the sensitive ridges that make you see stars with every touch.
“Wait until I say,” she demands and you whine at her dominance. But you’re in no position to negotiate, so you keep your back pressed against the wall, desperately fighting the tidal wave of arousal threatening to crash down. 
“Nat,” you say, your fingers digging hard into her ass, “Please let me–”
“Wait,” she repeats, sounding both annoyed and aroused. She pumps into you harder and faster, until you’re quivering and don’t think you can physically hold back anymore–
“Babe–”
“Cum for me.”
You feel like your body is tearing apart as you explode over her hand, arching your back off the wall, pressing your heaving chest into Natasha’s, heart pounding like you’ve just sprinted through a marathon. Natasha’s thrusts slow as you ride out your orgasm, and as you slump against the wall, she pulls her fingers out and, sticking them into her mouth to suck off your juices. You watch her hungrily, still dizzy from the rush of endorphins. 
“My turn,” you say, hooking your arms under her thighs and her arms loop around your neck. You pick her up effortlessly and shuffle with her into the handicapped stall. This time, Natasha’s back is pinned to the wall as you crash your lips into hers, reigniting the heat between your legs. But you’ve already got your release and you are more than eager to return the favor. 
You pull down her pants and panties, mouth watering at the sight of her glistening center. You crouch down to pick her up again, this time letting her thighs rest on your shoulders so when you stand up, her pussy is perfectly in line with your mouth. Natasha’s hands tangle tightly in your hair as she draws your head towards her center, her calves locking across the back of your neck.
Without needing any more prompting, you pull forward to taste her. Her moans are music to your ears as you lap at her dripping heat, your tongue pressing deeper in search of more. All you can smell is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can think about is her. Natasha is sinful heaven to you and for a few seconds, you let yourself completely forget about how she’s ruining your life.
Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door.
“Hello? Why is this locked?” someone’s voice on the other side says. 
You reach up with your right hand and cover Natasha’s mouth. She bites into the side of your hand and you hiss at the pain.
“Go get one of the staff.”
“You better finish soon,” you hum, nipping at the insides of her thighs while she squirms on your shoulders. “Or the whole world is going to hear me eating you out in here.”
“They should,” Natasha pants, gripping almost painfully at the back of your head, trying to force you back between her legs. “They need to know that you’re all mine, baby.”
You want to tell her that you don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not her of all people, but the protests die in your throat as she squeezes her thighs around your head. You truly are some kind of servant to Natasha Romanoff. Your tongue runs up and down her slit, poking at her throbbing clit as she bucks forward against your face.
“Fuck, take me already,” she whines. 
“So impatient,” you tease. 
“Less talking, more fucking,” she demands.
“Same to you.” You shove your fingers into her mouth to quiet her, and she sucks on them in a way that you try to mirror against her pussy. Wrapping your lips around her clit and thrusting your tongue into her until she’s a puddle in your arms.
“...I don’t know why the door is locked. Let me speak to the manager to get the key.”
Natasha’s whimpers are muted so you have to gauge her reaction by the rest of her body. The way she grips onto your hair like it’s some kind of lifeline. Her walls milk your tongue desperately, slick spilling onto your chin. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman.
The door clicks open just as Natasha finally comes undone. Your fingers muffle her moans as you quickly lick her clean, wishing you had time to bring her to a second orgasm, but the heels on the floor indicate the two of you are no longer alone. You slowly lower Natasha to the floor, suddenly feeling the burn in your shoulders as you finally relieve yourself of her weight.
“Call me next time you want to fuck someone,” Natasha pulls you in for one final kiss and slips something into your pocket. It’s her business card. 
“We’ll see,” you say, still not exactly sure of this arrangement, but not having the time to hang around and discuss. You leave the stall first, washing off at the sink and slinking out.
***********************************************************************
Natasha waits until you’ve left the bathroom to adjust herself in the mirror. She reapplies another layer of lipstick, smoothing down her blouse and tucking it back into her pants. She struts out of the restaurant, her body tingling in the aftermath of her sexcapade in the bathroom with you.
She steps into the alley adjacent to the restaurant and stands by the overflowing dumpster. She takes your wallet out of her pocket, unfolding it and laughing at the photo on your driver’s license. It was almost disappointing how easy you were. You weren’t cut out to lead a powerful company like Envy Industries. While you might have had the intellect, you clearly could not handle confrontation and even the idea of failure.
Natasha almost feels bad for you, but not bad enough to stop.
She empties the cash from your wallet, the several crisp hundred dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Maybe they’ll make some lucky homeless person’s day. Natasha pockets your heavy metal credit cards, despite having no intention but to use them as paperweights for her office. Then she finds what she’s really after: the solid black card that’s your apartment key. 
Natasha discards your wallet into the dumpster and walks out to the street to be picked up by her driver. 
***********************************************************************
You return to the table, smoothing back your hair and pulling at the newly-formed wrinkles in your shirt. You barely remember to button your shirt back up to your throat to hide the collar of hickeys Natasha left to remember her by.
“You were in there a while,” Tony comments. “You need some Pepto?”
“No, I’m fine.” You sit down, staring at your cold steak while you think. “Can we go now? I have some stuff I need to do.”
“Sure, sure.” Tony calls for the waitress and the check. You slip your phone out to view the location of the tracking device you (literally) implanted into Natasha.
It was a tiny, tiny device, probably about the size of a grain of rice. You could barely feel its weight when you have it balanced on the tip of your finger. 
“This GPS will provide an accurate location down to a meter,” Dr. Pym explains. “Designed and manufactured right here at Envy Industries, so you can rest assured this is the highest quality product you’ll find on the market.”
“Don’t mention this to my dad, will you?” you request, placing the little tracker back in its foam-padded case.
“Of course,” Dr. Pym says. “I answer to you and only you now.”
“Good.”
You weren’t a hundred-percent sure how successful you’d be, but you had tried your best to hold the GPS on your fingertip before sticking your fingers in Natasha’s mouth. Her natural reaction would be to suck and swallow, and you were hoping that the rice-sized GPS would easily find its way down her esophagus into her. 
There was no way she would know about it (or even be able to taste it) in the heat of the moment, and after a few days, it would pass through and the evidence wouldn’t be in her system anymore. You didn’t need more than a few days to track her location and habits. 
With a sigh of relief, you see the red dot on the map indicating that she’s still waiting by the street side of the restaurant, probably for her driver. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering what Natasha would say when she realizes you’re willing to play just as dirty as her.
The waitress boxes up your steak and hands it to you in a paper bag. You and Tony leave through the back entrance to the cramped parking lot and you wait until you’ve climbed into his Aston Martin to say, “Are you still in touch with that…uh…Buck guy?”
Tony is quiet for a moment. “Oh, you mean Bucky? Yeah, I see him from time to time. Why?”
You’ve never made a request like this before in your life, and you know the moment you do, it’s going to change everything. You take a deep breath, fighting the anxiety in your chest.
“I need him to get me a gun.”
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AN: It's getting very hot in here. :) To be continued? 👀
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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curatorofvibes · 3 days
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Saturn in the 11th House
Saturn in the 11th / Eleventh House natal. Don’t let astrology limit you, you can be who you dream you are!
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Saturn in the 11th House. That feeling that you can’t “fit in”, especially with your age group. Yearning for a true connection, people who really love you for you and not how you make them feel, what you can give them, or the idea of you. Wanting to be recognized and given your flowers while you’re still here to receive them (give them their props, they tend to feel really unappreciated). Loving being alone as a result of never really feeling like you connect with others or feeling understood. Just hating surface level shit. But wait... Have you ever had a friendship break your heart? Lol but no seriously!? Like I trusted you and I let you in, I showed you the most vulnerable parts of myself and that’s something I never do. It’s like.. How could you? I understand some people don’t really take friendships that seriously and just go around calling anyone and everyone their “friend” and “best friend”, but that shit means a lot to the native with this placement and it’s not just a title. If they consider you a friend they really mean it. Can I be understood and loved for me? You can’t give that to me, so I have no problem giving that to myself. ~♡CuratorofVibes♡
Saturn in the Eleventh House Perfect Description (in my opinion): Saturn In The Eleventh House : The Atheris hispida Snake
Here’s the link to the playlist:
(…)
(At this point just... leave me alone.)
(I don’t know who to trust anymore.)
(“I’d rather have quality than quantity.”)
(I want to be loved for me.)
(Trust Issues.)
(“I like bein’ alone.”)
("Please don't think I'm insecure.")
(I'm surrounded by so many people, yet I feel so alone.)
(Find myself asking: “Is this really what people talk about and value?”)
(“If you go cost my peace, then I go take my leave.”)
(I’ve decided to remain reclusive.)
(I don’t “fit in”, and that’s fine.)
(Far beyond pretending that I need you.)
(“Me, myself and I. That's all I got in the end, that’s what I found out.” - Beyoncé)
(I choose me.)
(Will anyone ever really see me?)
(♄.)
I originally made this post on December 27, 2021 and then I put it on private for reasons that I do not recall. I'm unable to reblog the original and its moodboard, so I've created this new post. I hope whoever indulges in and with this playlist and post enjoys it. I love reading comments, so if you have anything to say about this placement, playlist, and/or post don't be shy (but if you are, send something in the asks lol)! 🤎💫
I would also like to state that I'm not an astrologer, I created this post because of the playlist that I made in relation to this astrological placement and simply wanted to share it with whoever it finds its way to.
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NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO REPOST, PLEASE GIVE CREDIT.
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sluttyten · 5 months
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My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes
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catastrxblues · 4 months
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#okay i actually want to rant a bit 😭 - not advised to read this because then you might get brain damage#because oh my god??????? weird#(was going to write an entire diary but nvm here’s the gist of it)#basically i was coming home from this chem thing right#i used the train as i always do when it comes to this. and because the new station just got a shiny renovation it is now connected to the#new mall in front of it (we have two now it’s an addition to the first one). and guess what 😭#i had to go in and get to the first mall because my dad said he’d just pick me up at the lobby instead of the bus stop in front of#the station entrance right.#and when i was on the elevator going up on a call with my mom about food orders 😭#the guy i used to have a very very VERY heavy crush on in middle grade got to the elevator leading down just as i was on the landing 😭😭#and i had to make sure i wasn’t hallucinating so as he was descending and his back turned to me i examined the back of his head and i’m#pretty sure it was him. curiosity killed the cat i should’ve remembered that shit because you know what my stupid ass did??#i was already walking away on my way to cross to the first mall but then that curiosity got the better off me and i steppedonto the elevato#leading down 😭 and followed him out into (apparently) the fucking bus stop#oh my goddd I JUST REALIZED this is my the one moment help#except i don’t think he recognized me because i was never even friends with him lmao. wrote tons of poetry about him ✅#actually had one proper conversation with him ❌#i was delusional and kept alone with my thoughts living in my head do not judge me#but seriously even though i don’t really care about him anymore this would’ve been (unfortunately) SUPER important to middle grade me#she would’ve taken it as a sign or something and write like five pages about it#and i just keep thinking about that#funny how things change because IF YOU KNEW how many credits and exaggerated compliments i gave him in my old journal#oh you would’ve laugheddd#like i used to SPEND SO MUCH TIME pondering over him it’s so 😭#i used to have an oc and i think i based it on my idea of him and then i think that idea of him was even the reason i started to TRY to#write poetically. and i used to relate every taylor swift love songs to him (esp the ones in debut lover and rep and fearless) IT WAS SO#FUNNY LOOKING BACK AT IT NOW#i think he did see me though. i put on this act as if i was searching for someone confused and then (my go to) pretended someone called me#and then i whisked off as if to find that someone#i’d like to think i look pretty cool though. not because of anything (def not my looks because i was SO TIRED from that extra chem lessons
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dancing-with-stars · 9 months
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i am losing my mind
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enfinizatics · 1 year
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it’s the way i’ve wanted to read all the young dudes ever since the author started publishing it on ao3 but i’ve never made myself do it bc of being a survivor of the marauders fans bullying back in 2017-2018 tumblr bc i posted stuff about snape LMAOO truly an extraordinary time on harry potter tumblr, the marauders fans were so vicious back then i actually avoided every single marauders content like the plague until like last year because the bullying made me feel physically nauseous whenever stumbling upon the content please-
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bro i’m so sick of being mentally ill like this shit is so annoying bc why i am literally incapable of passing 4 courses in one semester. and mind you i have pretty much no social life and did one extracurricular this semester and exactly zero last year. what do you mean my friends go to parties on weekends and have jobs on campus and also hobbies and free time?
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heymacy · 1 year
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🌟
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gatorinator · 1 year
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Can God translate me. Just for like 3-5 business days. I just need a little break—I’ll come back I promise.
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johndonneswife · 2 years
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wish i could articulate how being around my family makes me feel. i genuinely had no idea life could be good until i left home. i had no idea people could exist without screaming and fighting and going out of their way to make each other feel miserable. i’ve spent all day feeling sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears because i have to be around these inconsiderate, awful people, and i don’t have a choice. i grew up thinking everyone felt like this all the time, and that my palpable fucking sadness and loneliness were things other people also felt all of the time.
today my mom was talking to my cousin, and she said, ‘when i was growing up, i thought our family was the only family that existed and we were the only people in the world!’ and they had a laugh about it and were getting all fucking wistful about it, like it was better when they weren’t aware of the rest of the world. this whole family feels like a fucking cult and the worst part is - the fucking worst part of it all - was how stupid i was when i thought this was totally normal. that being treated like an afterthought - if that - was what every other human being on the planet went through, too. that friday-sunday, all fathers drink until they get angry or until pass out, and all mothers humiliate and berate you. that everyone is a narcissist once they grow up. that it’s normal to have no friends besides the people in your own family. to forgive your cousins who have pulled knives on you and given you bloody teeth just for being Different and Weird and Smart and Quiet, because those are the worst possible things you can be.
i’m annoyed and i’m frustrated and it’s three in the morning and i just want to be home again. i want somewhere quiet. somewhere i don’t have to beg to be treated with decency and kindness. somewhere where i have control of everything - so my useless fucking aunts don’t invite random drug addicts i don’t know to my own fucking engagement party and get pissy when i want to - god forbid - listen to the kind of music i like. where people don’t make racist comments about my friends and the people i love. at my own fucking engagement party! i have been home three times since the pandemic and literally not once has someone spared me an ounce of respect or kindness; they’re all too busy making everything about themselves.
#there’s just so many things i want to complain about but i’m so tired#growing up surrounded by addicts and racists and generally shitty people#i never ever want to come back here and i never want ayesha to have to come back here#i’ve been trying to post this for 14 hours but i’ve been so busy being forced to mingle with people who don’t even pretend to care about me#i feel like i’m the dumbest bitch on the planet because i chose to forget about all the ways i was abused growing up#but i had to do that in order to survive here#and now that i’ve moved away and started healing i don’t think i can pretend anymore#i’m in the uber to laguardia and it’s the first time since wednesday that i can breathe#the whole ‘your family is allowed to abuse you and degrade you and violate you and you just have to deal with it’ thing is not okay#i am embarrassed of them and angry at them and i feel so much fucking hate in my heart for them#even with my own parents…i’m so tired of parenting them#and being trapped in that house has made me want to claw my own skin off#the screaming the mess my mom’s hoarding the nagging the passive aggressiveness#the house is screaming and burning and being there makes me feel so trapped and depressed#i cannot believe i grew up there and survived and also can’t believe i used to think everyone experienced anxiety and had panic attacks#and that everyone else was afraid of people raising their voices even slightly and loud noises#the sound of my mom’s car as she parallel parks across from the house…it’s so triggering. it seriously makes me cry and freak the fuck out#if it wasn’t for our friends and my grandmother i would literally never EVER come back here#i need to gtfo and get on that fucking plane and go home and feel normal again#this was the first time since i was probably like 17 that i went to a family party and didn’t drink myself sick - didn’t vomit and black out#because of course this wasn’t exactly an engagement party - despite how hard my sister worked - of course this was just FoR ~tHe FaMiLy~#because i can’t have one fucking day to celebrate without it coming back to them#and my dad can’t skip his stupid fucking hockey game one fucking night to be here with his daughter who he never sees anymore lol#loving people who are so fucking inconsiderate - it’s awful#but the drinking…i’m so glad i didn’t drink#even though it’s not a party until you have ten beers and vodka shots and get into a huge fight#i fucking resent everything these people took from me and i resent my parents for not protecting me when i was young#i chose to forgive them but maybe i chose wrong
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This is honestly the last thing I am ever going to post about this whole Depp V Heard trial. And I’m not going to say another word about it from here on out but seeing the outcome of all this since yesterday has been really bothering me.
Like I’ve said on another sm site, I honeslty do not care if you are on Amber’s side, you do you. Everyone has their own opinion and conclusion about this trial, but don’t get so angry about her losing this case that you feel the need to say some awful and horrific things not only to people who congratulated Johnny and support him but about Johnny himself and even his family. Don’t go wishing all these ugly death scenarios, r*pe and even s*icide on the man or his kids, or even his legal team that helped him out and don’t be harassing his supporters by sending them messages of “Go kill yourself, I hope you get abused just as badly one day, I hope you die a slow and painful death…” or what I saw with my own eyes yesterday with “You weren’t abused enough.” to another victim who came out about their own abuse while on a post about this verdict. It’s truly not necessary for us to start a war with each other over this even though yes, I understand this case was very serious. But it’s not necessary to bully others online just because they’re not agreeing with you and who you’re supporting. And for people who are supposibly so strongly against abuse, you sure as hell have no problem trying to manifest it upon people. But I digress.
And same to the people who are supporting Johnny in this whole thing, please do not wish ugly death scenarios and even shit like gang b*nging upon Amber Heard and even death upon her child! Like come on this is just not something that we as humans should even think about saying, much less threatening to do. Believe it or not, what comes out of our mouths have power so for the love of God don’t be saying and wishing anything you wouldn’t want done to you and especially your loved ones. Period. We need to be better than this, we need to be bigger than this so let’s just agree to disagree. Both are not perfect people and I personally just wish them both lots of healing, help and peace and to change for the better. I’m beyond disappointed in humanity for this and it honestly makes me lose hope, plus there are much bigger things to worry about in this world too, let’s not forget that.
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lilgynt · 6 months
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so. bc we kept being put in a queue that we’re not trained for. that we’re not trained for bc of the widespread issue of this department pushing their work onto us and trying to snub that outright just by not training us. my company is making several of my coworkers come in on their day off for an eight hour training For that Department.
#personal#i’m probably not going bc im leaving that day#but hope they put me so i can just get away from calls for 8 hours#but also if they don’t im seriously thinking about just leaving half way#like ill just message my direct boss like hey still sick from yesterday (calling out monday) so im just gonna leave my stuff with security.#bye!#and then never look back#on one hand i do want this door open in case i need it but also i more or less already told that boss im calling out#and honestly i would rather kill my self than work here again#maybe if tomorrow goes rlly bad i just straight up leave my stuff#message boss like hey im just leaving my stuff tonight i’m not dealing with this anymore#probably not but it’s a little fantasy#anyway my department specifically my team not happy at all and all have said their jealousy#jealous i’m leaving fuck you tumblr mobile and fuck you autocorrect#one dude took one call and immediately got cussed out and then went postal and told our supervisor he’s not taking these calls#and she was like i get it’s frustrating but we’re a team so we have to#to which bc i’m leaving i was like okay but it doesn’t feel like a team when we have to take their stuff and then they treat us how they#treat us and are unable to help if WE need help#we need to hire more cs agents his happens every weekend#which led to the rest of the time agreeing/putting up a bit of a stink#and my supervisor was like mangement knows we’re trying to get cs agents#then i guess the answer was not hiring more agents for that department or even moving around the agents in their#but to add more to MY department#which like. anything that is not clearly labeled this is for x department#just auto falls on us even tho we only work on a limited number of things#god and like every department in a company feels like that! no we have to have several meetings about this specifically#bc it’s such an issue of having too much in our department or other departments just giving us everything EVEN stuff meant clearly for them#like it’s a huge problem#and they’re just making it worse with this. so glad i’m leaving
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luv4fushi · 3 months
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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
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enkvyu · 8 months
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“babe i messed up, we gotta go bald.”
“no!” you grab onto the electric buzzer and fight against him, holding gojo back. “wait, let’s think this through!”
“look at my hair, it’s horrible! i can’t go out like this!” your boyfriend whines and though he resists your pull, you know he isn’t putting force behind the gesture.
“you look…” you yank your eyes away from his head, suddenly struggling to look at him. “fine.”
“you paused!”
“it’s fine, gojo!”
“it’s not! if my lover can’t even look at me without laughing, what are my students going to think?” gojo checks himself out in the mirror of your apartment's bathroom, turning his head side to side to observe the lousy slash he had given himself.
“their opinion of you can’t go any lower.” you reassure him. “and it’s fine, really. just, put down that shaver, that’s it, put it down on the counter and i can fix your mess for you.”
gojo gives you a wary look but eventually relaxes his hold. you pick up the shaver and the handle is still warm from his touch. turning it on, you let the hum of the device fill the silence.
after gojo had decided to abandon his glasses for a blindfold, he realised simply letting his hair grow out in whatever direction would not cut it anymore, else he wanted to look ridiculous.
when he complained to you, you absentmindedly told him to get a haircut without thinking of the consequences of your actions. of course gojo wouldn’t just go to a barber, of course gojo would think he could style his own hair and of course gojo would pick the worst haircut, making the first move without another thought. and now, after running the shaver a few centimetres up from the nape of his neck, the both of you realised that he should never be allowed near a electric shaver ever again.
you exhale. "okay, i've got this."
gojo looks at you through the mirror. "don't stress. worst case scenario, i can just buzz everything off."
you stare at him. "i cannot love you if you're bald."
"seriously?"
"what's with the look? would you love me if i was bald?"
gojo doesn't even hesitate. "yes!"
that makes you feel guilty. you don't comment on the topic any more, instead channelling your attention to the shaver in your hands and the white hair above your boyfriend's head.
“hey, don’t ignore me. you wouldn’t love me if i was bald? what’s next, you wouldn’t love me if i was a worm?”
you bite your lip to stop your face from contorting into a grimace. “i’m trying to focus here.”
“and i’m trying to make sure there’s still love in our relationship.” he turns around and looks at you. “do you love me?”
looking at him, a small smile slips through your disgusted expression. your boyfriend was regularly annoying, but there were times when his childish behaviour was more endearing than irritating. this was one of those rare times.
“yeah, i do.” you admit.
“prove it.”
“huh?”
his hand closes around yours, the one holding the buzzer. “i’m going bald.”
“no you’re not!”
“this is my hair, i get to decide what to do with it!”
“gojo!” you quickly reach over and unplug the shaver. “let’s be rational!”
he looks at you with bleary eyes. “i love you.”
“me too, which is why i can’t let you go bald.”
“you’re lying. if you loved me, it wouldn’t matter how much hair i have on my scalp.”
you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. when you peek through your fingers, gojo is still giving you a wounded look. “okay fine, i would still love you if you went bald. it honestly doesn't matter to me, but is this what you really want?”
“and if i was a worm?”
you look away, busying yourself with tidying your already tidy sink. “are you going bald or not?”
“answer my question.” his hand wraps around yours. “you can’t leave here until you give me a response i can accept.”
you try to shake him off. “i’m not backing down on this, i will not love you if you turned into a worm.”
“i would—”
“no you wouldn’t! how would you kiss me if i was small and slimy?”
he pauses. “i don’t need to kiss you to show my love, it’s just a side benefit.”
“okay, and what about our species difference? what if i find a handsome worm and fall in love with him? he would treat me better since we’re both worms.”
“i would keep you in a cage so that you'd never meet another worm.” he says, completely serious.
“is that what love means to you?”
“i’ll fill the cage with all your favourite things!” he brings your hand up to his cheek and presses against it, littering kisses onto your palm when you don’t react. "it's also to keep you safe! you'd be completely defenseless as a worm."
"well, if you were a worm i wouldn't be able to keep you safe. you're the strongest, if you can't protect yourself then how could i?"
"that's something different. i wouldn’t be the strongest, i would be a worm."
"an unlovable one."
he drops your hand and grabs the electric shaver before you can. "i'm going bald."
you don’t stop him this time. “fine, go ahead. but when you’re hairless i am not taking the blame for this. if you even start to complain to me i will plug both my ears and walk away. that means if your students take photos of you and spread it like the plague, i won't stop them.”
“i knew it.” gojo says after a moment’s silence. “you don’t love me anymore.”
“if there was ever a time that i did.”
“when did you start falling out of love?”
this was slowly getting out of hand. “gojo.”
“when i ate your chcolate? i apologised, what else do you want from me? want me to kneel?”
“gojo!”
“is it because i used your expensive skincare? i was curious because it came in a little pipette thing and i wanted to squeeze it real bad.”
you hiss. “i knew that was you.”
“you seriously believed me when i told you it wasn’t me? we live together and we live alone, who else would it be?”
a humourless chuckle escapes your lips. perhaps gojo detects your intentions before you can act on them with his six eyes, because he freezes, backing up against the edge of your sink.
in his fear, you yank the shaver out of his hand and flick the power switch back on. the buzz fills the air.
“you’re going bald.”
“i was just kidding! i don’t want to be bald!” gojo leaps out of his chair and heads for the door. unfortunately, you grab onto his shirt and pull him back.
when gojo walks out of your bathroom a few hours later, his head is lighter than when he first entered.
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sped wrote this so i could post smth it’s so stupid i’m crying
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marvelouslizzie · 2 months
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One More Night
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.4K
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
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It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 
It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 
He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 
You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 
That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.
“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.
“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 
“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”
“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.
“What?”
“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 
“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”
“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 
You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”
“Weak? You are never weak.”
“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”
“Doll, what are you talking about?”
His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”
“But… this is what you wanted.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.
“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.
“When did I ever say that?”
His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.
“Just look at you.”
“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?
“It means you didn’t have to say it.”
“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.
“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”
“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?
“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”
“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”
“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 
“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 
“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”
“I was trying to protect myself!”
“You never showed any interest to me!”
You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”
“Uh… what?”
“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.
“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.
“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”
“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”
“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”
“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.
“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”
“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”
You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.
“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”
“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.
“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.
He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 
“God you are so blind.”
“Hey!” You instantly respond.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You are out of my league.”
“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.
“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”
He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.
“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”
You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.
“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.
“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”
“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.
“You would actually like me.”
“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.
“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.
You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.
“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”
He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.
“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 
It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.
“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.
“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”
You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 
God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.
Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.
“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”
Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.
“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”
“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.
“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”
“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”
He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 
“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”
“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.
“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.
“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”
You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.
“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”
You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.
“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”
“What?”
“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 
His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.
“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.
“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 
“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”
“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.
“Is that a promise?”
“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”
That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Harder, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.
“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.
“Do I have to tell you everything?” 
“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”
“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.
That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.
“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.
“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”
“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.
“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”
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saetoru · 9 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ IN YOUR ARMS (I’M WARMEST) — GETO SUGURU.
contents. it’s a bit of a prequel to this drabble about the shower scene, but can be read as a stand alone, post hidden inventory arc, depressed suguru :(, small spoon suguru bc he deserves to be held, reverse comfort, established relationships, healing suguru agenda !! i’m passionate about this agenda !!!!!!!
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usually, instead of you sneaking into suguru’s room, it’s the other way around. usually, he slips under your sheets and curls around your body, your combined giggles seeping into the sheets as he sneaks in a few hours of sleep with you in his arms before he inevitably has to leave before he’s caught.
tonight is different, though—suguru hasn’t come to your room to sleep with you in more than a few days. you don’t even think he even sleeps anymore, if the dark circles under his eyes are of any hint.
so you do the only thing you can think of: sneak into his room.
“hey, are you asleep?” you poke his shoulder—he’s had his back facing the door since you stepped in, and he’s made no move to face you.
“yes,” is all he says.
“wow,” you roll your eyes, “i’m risking a lot of wrath with yaga to be here, y’know. least you could do is face me.”
“you should sleep,” he mumbles, “you have a mission tomorrow.”
“it’ll be easy,” you say wave off, “i’ll be back before lunch time. we can eat together,” you offer.
suguru has hardly been eating—you notice this instantly. if you’d just get one chance to sit and have a meal with him, you’d force a few bites into him, but it’s been a busy week. for all of you. you haven’t properly seen satoru in what feels like ages—the newest missions he’s been assigned have been much more complex, much more difficult for anyone else but him to handle.
he hasn’t known rest since that day.
suguru is alone more now, on missions and once he’s returned. the gap between him and everyone else feels like it gets wider and wider every day. he’s become more distant, in more ways than one.
“you shouldn’t say that. you never know what happens on a mission,” he says seriously. “be careful.”
the last part, barely, just barely, sounds like a plead.
you sigh, wrapping yourself around his back and pulling him against your chest, slipping a hand under his shirt and rubbing slow circles into his bare skin. he likes the feeling, it’s always soothed him.
“i’m always careful,” you murmur, “i’ll bring you soba on my way back. will you eat for me, sugu? just for me,” you pout theatrically.
suguru is always weak to your dramatics—it’s your appeal. he finds it cute, always gives you a chuckle as he caves and gives you exactly what you want.
this time, he doesn’t offer you so much as a hum.
“if i’m hungry,” he mumbles.
“baby,” you sigh, nose burying into his hair. the strands are slightly knotted—something that suguru never lets happen with his hair. “you need to start looking after yourself more. i’m getting worried about you.”
“you don’t need to worry about me,” he mutters, “you should go and sleep.”
deep down, you know he’s gently telling you to leave. suguru is asking you to leave—but you know if you leave, something might change. something irreversible. so you wrap your arms tighter around him, pull him closer as hold his body against yours.
“i always worry about you. and you should sleep too,” you say simply, “we can sleep together.”
he’s silent.
so you let him stay like that, rubbing over his abs slowly and tracing the skin, writing your name with the tip of your finger lightly so he knows he’s yours even when he acts like he’s alone. you press a kiss to his head, and because he’s still your suguru, he melts just the slightest bit against you.
progress.
“hey,” you whisper, chin resting on his shoulder. you watch his head turn slightly as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
“what?” he sighs.
“i’ll take care of you, so you don’t have to, okay?” you promise gently. if suguru can’t find it in him to look after himself, he doesn’t need to—not when you’re here. “we’ll start slow, yeah? tomorrow you’ll shower. and then i’ll feed you.”
“you don’t have to—”
“shh,” you hiss, reaching over to press a finger to his lips, “i’ll bring your favorite, and then i’ll feed you like the princess you are. it’ll be nice, trust me.”
“but—”
“i’ll even give you a kiss for every bite. how does that sound?”
he sighs, hand resting on top of yours as you stay rubbing circles into his skin.
“good,” he whispers, “sounds good.”
“i love you, baby,” you kiss his head again, “i’m sorry i haven’t been here all week.”
“it’s not your fault,” he insists, “it’s…it’s been busy for us all. i don’t mind—”
“i’ll make more time for you,” you say firmly, “i promise. okay?”
you’re not sure if you imagine it, but you think his exhale might be a little shaky. and then he nods against you, leaning back so his body is pressing into yours even further. you wrap your arms tighter around him and pull the sheets until they’re under his chin, making sure he’s covered all the way.
it’s cold in his room at night—you can’t always make it warmer, but you can try to share your heat.
“okay,” he says after a while, “i’ll shower tomorrow.”
“good,” you nod, “i’ll handle the rest. now get some sleep, yeah?”
he nods—but even as you slowly doze off, sleep doesn’t come to him. but it’s not so lonely to stay up tonight, and the bed doesn’t feel stiff under his back. his hand is still on top of yours, finger tracing lightly over your knuckles.
“i love you too,” he mumbles—you don’t hear it, but he still wants to say it.
it’s a start.
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i should just write a progressive series of suguru slowly healing and then we can have teacher suguru bc imagine him writing on a chalkboard with chalk. yeah. it’s okay if you moan at the idea i did too. i won’t judge !!
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