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#the doctor is not on the same page as her at all.
morganski-19 · 23 hours
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part 1, part 2
Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 
It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 
If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 
“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 
Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”
“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”
That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”
“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”
It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 
Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 
Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 
Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 
“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”
There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 
“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”
Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”
“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 
But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”
“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”
Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”
Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 
“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 
Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 
There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 
Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 
“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 
Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”
“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”
“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”
Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”
Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 
He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,
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saelique · 3 days
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chapter one. ignorance is bliss
˚。⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together. 
the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality. 
the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting. 
it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked. 
“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale. 
“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“ 
three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again. 
“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up. 
“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.
years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much. 
the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil. 
you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars. 
it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever. 
you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him. 
Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty. 
time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.
you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was. 
you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure. 
you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.
you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago. 
you really did think he was perfect. 
running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure. 
but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.
Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs. 
it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.
then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight. 
you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior. 
digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.
you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.
was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?
you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.
you should really stop thinking so much about this.
clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form
making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.
“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.
“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.
“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.
“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“
“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”
a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.
“hello, surprised to see me ?”
he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.
oh god what if you were next ?
you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !
“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.
“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence. 
the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.
you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.
you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in. 
Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.
but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.
the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.
why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?
you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.
ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?
you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.
“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.
you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.
“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”
“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”
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just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 month
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no wonder missy is insane about him. she just mindmeld trauma bonded with him and got confirmation through him that she was right the whole time about the thing that happened to her, AND then they traded life-saving moments. of course she wants her friend back. she needs him to see her again, as clearly as he did in that moment. she needs him to be like her, because among time lords, she is alone, but with the doctor, she isn’t.
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storge · 4 months
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Guo Haojun | Rising Feather (2023)
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matchandelure · 22 days
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i fear that the undercover top secret government assassins are growing on me (cp9)
#I HAD ZERO THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM AT FIRST#IN FACT I WAS DEVASTATED THAT THE WATER 7 QUARTET WERE ACTUALLY CP9#BUT THEN??????? I READ CP9'S INDEPENDENT REPORT AND. I!?!??!?@?!?#the thoughts are endless ive been having one piece dreams every night for the past few days and they have all been cp9 related the brainrot#is so bad. i am sodgjkadhg#i love one piece there are so many characters with each new arc i get to i get some new characters to obsess over i love it i feel so alive#ive been fighting tooth and nail avoiding spoilers for the latest episode BUT GOD IM SO SO TEMPTED TO. TAKE A PEEK#anyways last night i was once again doing a wiki deep dive and i found some silly things on cp9's pages#JABRA AND LUCCI ARE THE SAME HEIGHT!!!!! THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY#CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?!?! the kid you've had beef with since he was 13 (maybe even earlier since lucci alreayd knew him when he was 6) who you#used to have a whole head over is now at eye level with you i would actually be so embarrased#KAKU IS FROM EAST BLUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS OS IMPORTANT ACTUALLY!! THE MOST IMPORATNT FACT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!#so he knows the strawhats are...also from the east blue right?!? right??????! and ik the wg steals these kids early on to train them so i#doubt he has lingering attachments to his home sea but i still think this so both so so sad and so important :'((#also not getting over how oda's depiction of tiny kaku has him holding a toy boat BC ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?! ARE YOU K IDDING ME#kalifa and jabra's favourite dishes are both lamb based!!!!!!!!! silly because her animal motif is a sheep haha#BUT ALSO considering how her father was also cp9 and she's probably been conditioned since birth to also follow his footsteps and how jabra#holds seniority in the current lineup id like to think that these two have known each other a very long time and there were influences#the most dysfunctional fcked up family ever. cp9#blueno and jabra are both from the north blue!!!!!!!!!!!!! and that one falshbakc we see that the two of them plus 6year old lucci trained#together but also it would be so fcked up if the two actually knew of each other before being roped into the governemnt#idk how the wg works do they just??? routinely scout around and pick up a bunch of kids ata time???? were jabra and blueno taken together??#also wondering if ... kalifa jabra and kumadori knew each other the longest as fellow agents or soemthing#i feel like im entertaining a gazillion thoughts all at once its so hard ot balance but we know both kalifa nad kumadori have#parents in the governemnt/assassin profession that also influenced them right#idk maybe one thing they can bond over#cp9 to me is just a fucked up family of some sort. they are not found family they are like some weird forged family where they were all#forced together and somehow made it work and they all love lucci and care for his wellbeing enough to raise all that money to get him to a#doctor and they cared about each other enough to get off enies lobby together without leaving anyone behind and they went cafe hopping and#shopping and bowling together and they all care for each other in their own way
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coulsonlives · 1 year
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#my friend and i broke up#she's still on w the whole 'i have this' malingering and attention seeking behaviour and i tried to be sympathetic but she shut me out#her parents apparently even let her see a psychiatrist (that shit's expensive) and she did but she got a different dx now she's mad#and she doesn't want to see a counsellor. i sent her resources for what she (thought) she had and she won't even look at em#she said it's 'big psychiatry' so she didn't trust it?? i wish i was making this up#the links i sent weren't even affiliated with any doctors or psychiatrists!!#they were literally support links and pages from a reputable site for people with this disorder and pages that helped confirm if you had it#SHE REFUSED TO LOOK AT ANYTHING#SHE ONLY WANTED TO SEE THINGS THAT REINFORCED HER DELUSION#heLLO YOU YOURSELF WANTED TO SEE A PSYCHIATRIST NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN BC YOU GOT THE WRONG ANSWER ITS A NO??#i feel like i'm going to be sick i feel horrible#i'm angry and hurt and frustrated and i don't know how to help her outta this so i feel like a useless pos#i'm so done?? done done done#the sad thing is i can't even tell 100 percent if she's actually sure she has something based on super wrong symptoms or#if she's intentionally faking#i just went thru and blocked a lot of blogs too..#because i'm starting to notice a LOT of this on tumblr too and it jumps out like a sore thumb now esp in certain communities#idk if i have it in me to see all these people in the same exact boat whether it's intentional or they actually don't get what's goin on#i'm not using certain community/label tags in my posts anymore and taking em out of my previous posts#mental health cw#rant#vent#tbd#malingering cw#munchausen cw
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Courting (Letters from Lt. Riley)
tags: regency au, Ghost x f!reader/OC, courting, letters, Ghost flirting and also being so weird with it, courting gifts
summary: You told Ghost he could write you. He does.
The maids drop off the letter while you're in the study. The wax seal on the front is unbroken, which you find strange. Aren't parents normally supposed inspect courting letters? You suppose you should be thankful your mother isn't a noble by birth, she doesn't have the same care for propriety you know others do. She's always maintained that love is for the people involved and no one else. Though, love is a far stretch for your feelings as far as you're concerned.
Ghost seems to go out of his way to aggravate and annoy you. You will say... you've never enjoyed conversations quite so much as you enjoy them with him, and you've never had a man entertain your debating so well, and you suppose his eyes are rather warm and honeyed enough to catch attention. You like that you can see the curve of his lips under his mask when he smiles, and that the lines beside his eyes crease when he looks at you. And you like his hands, you suppose, if you had to pick something.
You break the seal of the letter and unfold the thick paper. There's a thin sheet of silver paper covering the actual writing and you scoff at the precaution. Surely the man isn't saying anything so scandalous as to need more protection from prying eyes. Still, you're careful removing the tissue-y layer.
Your breath catches in your throat, fingers hovering to trace carefully over the lines of charcoal covering the page. It dirties your glove and you're quick to avoid touching the paper directly, lest you sully the careful work of portraiture. It's you, your profile staring determined off into the distance, a slight frown on your lovingly shaped lips and a gentle crease to your brow. You wonder what your charcoal double must be thinking to have such an expression. You recognize the necklace he's haphazardly rendered, a gift from your mother you wore at the first party of the season.
How long has he been thinking of you?
There's tight cursive at the bottom of the page, "I have nothing to say, except that you're the most beautiful creature I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. -Lt. Riley"
Your heart flutters so hard, batters so aggressively against your rib cage, that you don't even notice the heat in your cheeks. You call rush to find pen and paper to write back.
-
You're having breakfast with your parents when the maid brings you a letter. You recognize the red wax seal immediately and slide your fingers under the paper's fold to break it quickly. The crack of wax fills the silent room, and you look up from your work to see your parents watching you. You father rests his chin on his laced fingers, and your mother quietly sips her tea. The letter is carefully placed to the side and your mother smiles, setting down her cup to draw one of your father's hands into her own grip.
"Don't let us keep you," You father rumbles, you can't tell if he's upset or pleased. His voice carefully neutral.
"It can wait until after breakfast," You tell him peaceably, picking up your fork again.
"Give it a read now dear, you'll upset your stomach rushing through meals." Your mother, ever the doctor, encourages. You tamp down your smile and unfold the letter, your fingers feeling for another sheet of silver paper. You're almost disappointed not to find one. You suppose you can't expect a gift of that quality every time. Once again the actual letter is short and neatly penned,
"Arguing with me won't make me march down there princess. Not that the idea hasn't crossed my mind, but I'd be gone as soon as I saw you, lost as soon as you opened your mouth. You make me lose all rational thought, and yet you consume my every waking moment. There is no distance I could travel that I would not still be haunted by the memory of you. If I'd never been assigned to your escort I would have been a saner man, miserable for never having known you. Argue with that.
Did you miss every one of your penmanship lessons?
Lt. Riley"
You smile to yourself, your thumb rubbing against the paper. He's pressed little flowers into the folds, their colors bleeding into the page and their petals falling into your lap. You pluck them carefully from your skirt, dutifully avoiding thoughts of your suitor, and place them back in the folds of Ghost's letter. You'll have to write him later, you know he's egging you on, but really he should know better than to criticize a lady's calligraphy.
You look up from your work and meet your parent's stares. Your mother's thumb rubs against the back of your father's hand, you've always hoped for a match like theirs.
"Something nice?" Your mother asks, and you smile at her.
"Never," You tell her, "Lieutenant Riley is as rude in his letters as he was as an escort."
Your father hums, but you think you see the edge of a smile under his beard.
-
There's very little awkwardness in the letters between you and Ghost. He writes better than he speaks, but the bluntness is still there, the charm that made you first agree to this courtship. He makes your stomach clench, makes your heart flutter. He's rude and argumentative, and you find yourself hoping for every letter he sends you.
He's sweet.
He's terrible.
You hide his letters under your pillows, the ones that talk about kissing you, "Everywhere but your mouth," he writes, "so that I can still hear you." You sit on the chaise and chew your thumb reading the letters that promise you devotion, "you'd never worry where I was, I never wish to stray from your side." You hear your friends discussing suitor gifts, the scandalous things that pass through their aunt's inspection first, that their fathers shake their head at.
You think of the modesty panel laced into your stays, the carefully inked words along the edge of the gift, "if my lips were here they'd never leave."
You pluck Ghost's letter from the tray before your maid can even offer it. Your fingers quick to break the wax seal before you even find a place to sit. He never writes as much as you do, but he's purposeful with his words in a way that makes your heart sing.
"If it's the Scot I think it is your friend is fine. We can discuss when I pick you up this afternoon. Wear walking shoes. Love, Lt. Riley"
You snort, quite a way with words your lover. You nearly trip on your way up the stairs staring at his signature. "Love" be still your heart.
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highdefhoetry · 2 months
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in the library.
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cw: nsfw!! female reader, public sex in library (discreet), penetration (vaginal fingering), handjob, blowjob
summary: you’re desperate to stay quiet. he’s determined to make you scream.
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There are only a handful of people in the library when you run into Zayne. You cross paths in the last aisle, where the “adult” novels could be found. You were trying to take a Nora Roberts book from the shelf when your hand brushed against something cold yet familiar. When you looked up, your eyes met those of your classmate. Well, former, back when you two were in the same gen ed course. He stood calmly on the other side of the shelf with a piercing gaze that sent chills down your back. 
“(Y/N),” he greets you with a slight nod of his head. 
“Dr. Zayne,” you awkwardly return his greeting, but when you look back to the empty space on the shelf, you find he’s already gone. He appears at your side in a heartbeat, his hazel eyes focused on the book you’re holding. 
“I’m not a doctor yet,” he corrects you.
“Haven’t you skipped a bunch of courses, though? You’re pretty much set to be one by the end of the year.”
“Unlikely. I still have a ways to go.”
Suddenly you become hyper aware of how close he’s standing. His shoulder brushes against yours as he takes the book from your hand in one smooth motion. You watch as his elegant fingers sift through the worn down pages, gently tugging each one at the corners. 
“For Now, Forever,” he reads the title. “An excellent choice.”
“You’ve read Nora Roberts?”
“Is that so surprising?”
“Well, yeah. I thought you only read boring medical texts.”
“That’s mostly true. But even I need breaks from my studies.”
“Breaks to read smutty novels?”
Silence. It seems you’ve caught him off guard. He clears his throat, and you notice his ears reddening a little.
“I was only curious about this one because it involved characters in the medical field,” he gives you a weak excuse. “I’m not a connoisseur of erotica, unlike some people.”
“Hey! Don’t say it like that. You make me sound like some kind of pervert.”
He chuckles softly at your expense.
“If I’m not mistaken, this novel in particular has a number of… graphic scenes,” he comments, his eyes drifting to your face in the process.
“I mean, yeah… all of her books are like that,” you say, trying to sound casual despite your heated cheeks. It was embarrassing having him comment on things like this so candidly. And by the way he was smirking, you could tell he was doing it on purpose. 
“You must have enjoyed these lewd scenes, too. Or else you wouldn’t have read it.”
A sudden streak of mischief takes over. You take a small step forward, closing the gap between you. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.
“Speaking of that…” you tease. “Do you remember the part where they’re in the library? I think it went a little something like this…”
You place your hands on his chest, running them over his iron-pressed shirt to feel the muscles underneath. The hem is tucked into the waistband of his pants; you tug on it ever so slightly until it comes undone, allowing you access to his bare skin. He doesn’t stop you when you sneak your hands under his shirt, nor does he protest when you run your palms on his stomach. You hear his breath hitch slightly when you wander a little too low; as soon your eyes drift down and fall on the tent poking through his fitted pants, he suddenly grabs your hand and holds it firmly.
You look up again, locking eyes with the doctor in training, whose stony expression still hasn’t cracked. Although, he is looking a bit more strained…
“Zayne…?”
He pauses for a moment. Then, you see the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smirk.
“...I remember it going a little differently.”
His steely eyes meet yours once again. You sense something deep inside them, struggling to break free, yet his demeanor remains as cool and controlled as ever. How many times have you wanted to break through that cold facade of his and curl up with the warmth of his heart? He hid it so well, but even the strongest armor had cracks. 
While you’re lost in thought, something flutters against your thigh, snaking up the hem of your skirt. The feeling makes your skin quiver, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a small cry. Meanwhile, his fingers reach the lace edges of your panties and tug them down until they’re right above your knees. The sudden rush of cool air makes you shiver.
“Zayne…” you whisper, trying to keep quiet so you don’t garner the attention of the other visitors, or worse, the librarians themselves. You look around anxiously to make sure no one is nearby while his hands grope your thighs and hips. He takes his time feeling you up before finally caressing his cold hand on your outer lips. It makes you jump, but soon you feel a warmth spread through your body, fueled by his gentle circling of your clit.
“Shhh,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, right before sliding a finger inside you.
You let out a tiny gasp, forcing back a moan as he curls his finger upwards, seeking out the elusive spot he knows will make you cum hard. He finds it and begins to stroke the spongy walls, slowly at first, then with a bit more force. All while pumping those beautiful fingers of his in and out, in and out, in a steady rhythmic fashion. It’s taking everything in you not to scream and moan. He chuckles as he watches your face twist in pleasure and your strained efforts to silence yourself.
“Mmm… mmph!!”
“Calm down,” he croons. “You need to stay quiet in the library.”
It’s the same thing the male lead had said to the heroine of the story. You remember it vividly, for you had pictured yourself in this exact scenario, with this exact same man. Zayne’s hands are quick and skilled; his thumb continues massaging your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to warm you up without bringing you over the edge. It’s driving you mad, how gentle yet forceful he is. He stares down at you from his massive height, lips slightly curved upwards in an amused smile while you fight to remain silent as his hands and fingers roam your body. Your heart has begun to pound so intensely you wonder if he can actually hear it.
You’re close. He can sense it, too. He chuckles again when you grab onto his arms, as if bracing yourself for impact. You squeeze your eyes shut as wave after wave of electrifying pleasures surge through your body. It’s taking everything in you not to scream. You force back every moan, only letting little gasps and groans escape when he hits you in just the right place. And from the grin on his face, you can tell it amuses him to no end.
A few moments later, you finally cum. You bite your lip, feel your eyes roll in the back of your head, let out fluttered sighs as you squirt all over his hand. He caresses your waist and hips, relishes the way you twitch and shudder under his hands. The orgasm made you extra sensitive, so every touch feels like cold fire. You open your eyes to meet his, letting your lips part as you take in large gulps of air while trying to regain your composure. His soft gaze makes your heart dance. He doesn’t say anything, opting instead to admire the sight of your flushed skin and relieved expression.
But his own expression soon turns to one of restraint. His gaze falters when he feels your hand grope the tent in his pants. You rub the tip with an increasing amount of pressure and smile when you hear stifled grunts emerge from his throat. His brows furrow slightly in determination, as if he is focusing all his attention on retaining his composure. But you see the mask slip when you unzip his pants and let loose his stiff member.
Still covered by black boxers, you sneak your hands into the slit in the middle and take hold of his shaft. He grunts softly, almost losing it when you begin caressing the tip and teasing the length of his cock. You start off slow and take your time fondling him, noting what makes him sigh and gasp and when his breath becomes more erratic, more desperate. 
You pause briefly to look around, once again making sure that no one is looking, before falling to your knees.
Before he can protest, you take his cock in your mouth and run your tongue along his shaft, stopping only to kiss and lick his tip before going on. The muffled sounds he’s making are delightful. His grunts start off quiet, but the longer you suck him off, the louder they grow. He grabs fistfuls of your hair, firmly but gently so as not to hurt you, and pulls you close until his cock is hitting the back of your throat. You suppress the urge to gag; it won’t be much longer until he cums.
After a few deep thrusts and more teasing from your mouth and tongue, he erupts his load into you, gasping quietly while still holding onto your locks. You taste his cum and swallow it all, savoring the warmth he’s given you. You slowly guide his cock out of your mouth and stand back up, smiling at him while his heavy breathing subsides. He zips up his pants with a relieved sigh, as if he just released a lifetime’s worth of stress.
“Well?” you whisper. “How did it end, again…?”
Zayne looks down at you with eyes full of affection, taking your chin in hand and gently pulling your face up.
“I believe it went like this.”
He kisses you softly, and his icy exterior melts in your hands.
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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Hi can I request spencer reid x reader, but reader has the same IQ as him. So she is a new member of the team and she looks all bubbly but then during a convo she spits some facts and Spencer is impressed. You do not have to do it!! I love youuu💕💕💕
You're quite used to the awkward silence that spans for several moments after you finally fall silent, the weight of your gruesome fact-spewing laying heavily over everyone. But this time there's a glimmer of amusement in their eyes, in the glances they share, and a dumbfounded stare from Doctor Reid.
"There's two of them," A dark-haired woman- Emily? Emmy? You're still shaky on names - gushes, and the man you remember as Derek groans from beside her.
"Doctor Reid has a habit of reciting textbook pages too," Agent Rossi smiles ruefully at you, "I think maybe the rest of us should just quit, and leave the BAU to you two."
"You'll fit right in," Agent Hotchner assures you, a smile uncharacteristically curved over his lips, "Reid, you two should sit together on the jet; maybe you'll tire each other out."
You share a giddy sort of grin with Doctor Reid, who seems to have a faint pink hue dusted over his cheeks. He nods, lips pressed thin and curled into a sheepish smile, "Uh- yeah, we can- we can talk. About- well, anything. Have you... ever seen Doctor Who?"
A vigorous nod is all you get in before Agent Hotchner pulls you back to your work with a stern, but underlyingly fond, "Alright, team, focus." But the promise of a blab session with Doctor Reid inspires you to speed through the case briefing, firing off suggestions and theories left and right to help the rest of the team finalize their thoughts.
The phrase 'Wheels up in thirty' releases you all, and you're elated to see Spencer hanging back while everyone else goes to fetch their go-bags. You linger beside him and he turns, a hopeful smile on his face.
"So, um- did you really want to-? To sit with me? We don't have to talk about Doctor Who, if you don't want to. Or- or anything, we don't have to talk about anything if you'd rather just... not."
"I'd love to talk about Doctor Who," You assure him, "And- anything, really. People don't like talking to me."
"People don't like talking to me either," He lets out a breathy laugh, glancing down at his shoes, "But... I think I'll like talking to you."
"Likewise," You grin, gesturing to the door, "Let's hurry and board early. We have a lot to discuss, Doctor Reid."
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bingqiv · 23 days
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i think there’s an inherent sadness and pain about dhawan coming after gomez. like gomez’s master had finally became friends with the doctor again despite everything. she died for him (twice if we count simm’s). after so long they finally stood together on the same page with mutual understanding and a hope that their next lives would be kinder and perhaps they’d be standing together.
yet dhawan went home after regenerating. came to the understanding that he was nothing to the doctor but a speck in her past. just as small and tiny as her companions and the flood of insecurities that haunted him since the day he left came back. he was never an equal and never would be and the doctor knew it (had known it all along). so he had to make himself an equal and worthy enough to stand against the doctor (never with. for how can you stand with the sun. instead you have to eclipse it take away its warmth and life)
a post-gomez dhawan is just fun.
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starry-eyes-love · 18 days
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Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (One-shot, AU, No Outbreak). One-shot but in the same universe as Marriage Dynamics. This happens way later than the storyline within that series though.  Can be read as a stand-alone or within the series.
Summary | Joel feels a little self conscious that he has to admit to you, his wife, that he has erectile dysfunction, and that he’s out of his little blue pills. You, being the understanding and loving woman that you are, remind him just how sexy he is, even with his little problem and that love doesn’t come with conditions.
Word Count: 5.4K
Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut.
Age gap (58/40s), language, husband/wife dynamics, got some angst in this one (but it ends where they are ok and happy), smut, f! (fingering), m! (hand job), mentions of f! (oral), slight body descriptions (she states she’s 30 lbs heavier), mentions of erectile dysfunction and Joel having to take Viagra, Joel being out of Viagra (that poor man), sweet and tender moments, comfort, terms of endearment, you teasing Joel that he’s old and him showing you that he’s not.  This is basically half story and half smut, so enjoy :) 
No longer using tag lists, please make sure that your notifications are turned on for my page so you are notified when I post something new.
Top banner created by artist on Instagram:  caimages_love 
The longer your husband snapped his powerful hips and ground into you, the more worked up you were getting. Joel knew how to work you up, get you so riled up that you’d beg him to fuck you. You were trying to bite back your moans and whimpers, not wanting to give in right away.  But when you heard Joel speak filthy things into your ear, you turned into a needy, whimpering little mess. 
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Joel stood in the bathroom, looking up at himself in the mirror while sighing. He didn’t know how it happened. How did he become an old man where his body required medication to function normally. Here he was, 58, with a worn out body that he no longer recognized.  He had spent his entire life working construction, and now he was feeling it.  He had aches and pains in places that he didn’t even know existed. He took blood pressure and cholesterol medication everyday just to keep his body somewhat on the right track. But worst of all, he had to start taking a small blue pill to help him obtain and sustain an erection.  Yup, Joel Miller was diagnosed about six months ago with erectile dysfunction, something that he thought only old men got.  But here he was, 58, and having to take Viagra just so he could properly fuck his wife. Joel didn’t know what was worse, having to take the little blue pill or the fact that you knew nothing about it. To make matters worse, he ran out of his special little pills, and he couldn't get any more until about six weeks. His doctor was on vacation and wanted to see Joel upon his return before re-filling his prescription. Joel didn't know how, but he had to figure out a way to keep you happy, without embarrassing himself any further. As he ran a hand down his face, he exhaled loudly, mumbling to himself ‘goddamn, when the hell did I get old?’ 
“What's that scowl for, old man, especially so early in the morning?” You teased, walking up to the other sink in the bathroom to wash your face. Your master bathroom now had two sinks, his and hers. It was a side project that Joel had completed last summer with the help from Tommy. He got tired of your constant nagging of finding his facial hair trimmings in the sink. So he decided to knock out a few walls and build you your very own sink with counter space. A his and hers master bathroom off from your bedroom. It only took a few weekends, but eventually his little side project was done. Now you both had enough counter space, where the two of you weren't bickering about where everything went in the bathroom anymore. Joel no longer grumbled about you taking up his side of the counter with your serums and ointments for your face. And you no longer nagged him about finding his beard trimmings in the sink.
“Quit it,” he had huffed, giving you a dirty look in the mirror as he finished trimming his beard.
“Woah, what's that look for?” You asked, taking a few steps towards him to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Good morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?”  
Joel exhaled and shook his head, mumbling to you, “mornin,’” as you went over to your sink to wash your face.  You knew Joel enough to know that this scowl on his face was only reserved for when he was upset about something or someone. You had hoped that someone wasn't you. 
“Did I piss you off or something?” You asked while looking at him in the mirror, trying to figure out where his sour mood was coming from. “You're awfully grumpy this morning.”  When he didn't respond, you replied again with a little more bite to your words. “Well, for someone who got laid last night, you don't seem very happy about it today.”
Joel huffed at you while rolling his eyes and mumbling, “yeah, well, I'm paying for it this morning now ain't I? M’back is fucking killing me.” 
Oh, so that's why he was grumpy.
A part of you instantly became frustrated at his statement, but you bit your lip and tried not to say something inappropriate back. You enjoyed last night a lot with your husband, especially when you begged him to go harder. His answer to that request was to hold your head against the mattress as he fucked you hard from behind. It had been a long time since Joel Miller became unhinged like that in the bedroom, and if you were being honest with yourself, it felt fucking fantastic. It was something that you desperately missed.  However, according to Joel’s comments and current mood, apparently he didn't feel the same way today as you did. He was now hurting, wincing as he twisted to grab the scissors to trim his mustache. You didn't want Joel to regret doing what he did with you, nor did you want him to be in any pain. His obvious lack of enthusiasm this morning about your midnight activities made you feel self-conscious.  Nodding your head you said “ok,” as you attempted to wash your face. But when you stood there you felt yourself get anxious and self conscious about last night. 
Did he not enjoy it with me? Maybe it’s because I’m not as thin as I used to be anymore? I did put on about 30 pounds over the years, so maybe I hurt him with my weight?  You knew your body had changed a lot over the years, you no longer had a flat stomach or a tight ass. You had what people called a mom body. A slightly curvy, unattractive, stretch-mark laced body that carried three kids.  Your later adult years were more about raising your kids than it was about going to the gym and looking sexy like a model or a porn star. 
As you stood there, allowing your mind to run wild at the reasons why Joel may have not enjoyed himself last night, your hands started to tremble slightly and your eyes started to sting from the tears that were threatening to form. You quickly splashed water over them to try to stop the emotional reaction that you were getting. You were very hormonal recently, especially since your doctor said that you needed to stop your birth control. She told you several months ago that it wasn't healthy for a woman in her forties to continue to take birth control. So you stopped last month, two months after Joel got a vasectomy. Joel and you were done having kids. With Sarah finishing college, and with three kids that you had with him still at home, you had agreed that the only other future babies that would be in your house would be future grandchildren. What you didn't realize was that when you stopped birth control you would become more sensitive with your emotions again as your body adjusted. 
Usually any type of grumpy behavior or comments from Joel like this wouldn't bother you under normal circumstances, but today you were extra sensitive and emotional. It didn't help that you had been super horny for your husband for the past two weeks while he was gone on a business trip. With the lack of kids for the weekend, Joel had taken his last blue pill right before he got home. When he got home, he barely made it through the door before he was thrusting himself deep inside of you, claiming you once again as his. 
Now as Joel stood there, watching you through the mirror, he knew something was up. You kept alternating between splashing water on your face and then drying it. When he saw you do it a fourth time, he had to say something to you.
“Babe,” he said, trying to get your attention. When you didn't answer, but kept up your routine of splashing water onto your face, he knew something was wrong. He also noticed that you untied and retied your robe several times, mumbling to yourself that you hated your mom-type body. 
Fuck, Joel thought. He could see that you were reading too much into his mood and that you probably were coming to the wrong conclusion yet again with his attitude. Joel wasn't upset or grumpy from the sex he had last night, because damn he loved your body so much. He was so turned on by it last night. He loved pounding his wife’s tight little pussy and hearing all those filthy little noises that you made for him. The reason for his sour mood this morning was because he was out of those damn blue pills, the ones that allowed him to be buried deep inside of you as he heard you moan his name. 
When you didn't answer him, he tried again. “Honey, will ya look at me for a second?” When you finally looked up at him, he saw your lip quiver and the tears begin to fall. He immediately let out an exaggerated sigh, mumbling ‘fuck’ under his breath. 
As soon as you turned to leave, Joel spoke up saying, “baby, I didn't mean anything by it. Fuck, c’mere will ya.” You had only gotten about three steps out of the door before Joel grabbed you by the waist and pulled you hard against his chest. 
“Baby c’mon, I didn’t mean it like that. No, shh, it’s okay, don’t cry,” Joel said, holding you close. He had one arm around your waist holding you firm to his body, while his other hand was gently wiping the tears from your eyes. You wouldn't turn to look at him, so he just held you against his chest while trying to console you. “Baby, come on now. Shhh, don't cry sugar. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I'm not cryin’,” you mumbled, trying to sound stern, but failing miserably at your attempt. Joel cupped your cheek, and gently turned your head back towards him, kissing you tenderly while continuing to softly tell you that he was sorry for his mood and that he loved you. 
Joel Miller may be several things in life. He may be grumpy and not very communicative from time to time. Often he’s described by others as being an asshole, especially when people piss him off. Usually he doesn't apologize for his grumpiness or gruffness, unless it's dealing with family. And it fucking kills him to see you, his wife, someone that he desperately loves and cares for cry because of his behavior. Joel never likes seeing you cry, in fact, it’s his least favorite thing to see.
After a few moments of tender kisses, Joel slowly started to deepen them into more passionate ones. He was walking a fine line here. He was trying to make up for being an asshole to you this morning, but also trying not to progress it too far where his lack of ability in performance would be seen. But with those little whimpers that you were doing, along with how you were gently nipping his neck, Joel found his resolve quickly crumbling.
“Baby, we gotta slow down,” he said, nipping at your collarbone and then giving you a hot and messy kiss to your lips.  
God, it felt so good kissing his wife like this. Joel didn't remember the last time you two made out like this; all lips, tongue and teeth. He slowly backed you up to the wall and then hoisted you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. After another needy whimper from your mouth, Joel's resolve completely crumbled and he found himself thrusting hard up into you and grinding his hips against your clothed core.
The longer your husband snapped his powerful hips and ground into you, the more worked up you were getting. Joel knew how to work you up, get you so riled up that you’d beg him to fuck you. You were trying to bite back your moans and whimpers, not wanting to give in right away.  But when you heard Joel speak filthy things into your ear, you turned into a needy, whimpering little mess. 
“Is this what my baby wants, huh? Does she want her husband to show her who’s boss? To show her how a real man fucks, hmm? 
“Yes. Please baby, f-fuck me. Show me how a real man does it, I need it,” you panted, reaching down to unbuckle and unbutton his pants. Your cunt was practically throbbing. So desperate to feel your husband’s stretch, to feel so full of him. Joel was a big man, he was long and thick. You always enjoyed the sting of his stretch, and the heaviness of his cock inside of you. 
As soon as you touched Joel’s belt, he remembered the big problem that he had. He was only half hard with the inability to get fully hard for you. Goddamn fucking pills.  Joel, feeling embarrassed at the situation, gently set you back down while placing a hand on top of yours. He was trying to stop you from reaching inside his pants.
“Baby, fuck, we can't” he said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours, breathing slow, trying to find a way out of this embarrassing situation.
“What? Why? I don't understand,” you said with disbelief. You were trying to understand why your husband, who had been gone several weeks on a work trip, didn't want to have sex with you when the kids were gone. “Is it your back, honey?” You asked somewhat perplexed. “If it is, I can be on top and do all the work for you if you want. I don't mind, really.” You said, trying to reason with Joel to let you touch him more. When he didn't respond you reached forward and palmed him, feeling him only half hard.
“Please stop.” Joel said in a stern voice, grabbing your hand and gently removing it. “I- uh, I can't- fuck- we can’t, ok.” He said, voice shaking as he slowly backed away from you, running a hand down his face. He was disgusted with himself and the fact that he couldn’t give his wife the proper attention that she deserved. 
You stood there bewildered, unable to make sense of what was happening.  Did Joel Miller just turn down sex?  In all the years you two have been having sex together, he has never once stopped sex from progressing. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out why all of a sudden he’d stop you.  And the only solution that you could think of was that maybe you weren’t the only person he was seeing like this. Maybe he, just like your father, had found a new favorite toy on the sideline. You looked at your husband with mortified eyes, fighting with the firm possibility that maybe he was no different than your dad; a lying, cheating, bastard. “Wow mom, I guess you were right, all men do fucking cheat.”
Joel snapped his head up in your direction at your statement. What did you mean that all men cheat? What the hell were you even talking about?  
As you started to walk past Joel he grabbed your arm and said, “what the fuck do you mean all men cheat?”
“Joel, please” you said, struggling to keep your voice even.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and grabbing both of your arms, slightly shaking you in his grasp. “You think I’m cheatin’ on you, is that it? That I’m fucking another woman. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he growled.
“Joel, please don’t do this. I-I-”
Joel saw your eyes in that moment, saw that you thought he was fucking someone else. That wasn't the case. He didn't want to admit his problem, but goddamn it, he wasn’t going to have you think that he was no different than your father.  Joel had no idea all those years that his best friend, your father, was using him as a goddamn babysitter so that piece of shit could go out and ball half of Austin as your mother recovered from her cancer treatments before she died of cancer.  No. Joel wasn’t a piece of shit like that, and goddamn, it killed him to have his wife think so low of him.
“Baby, ya gotta believe me. I ain’t fucking around on you, ok? Please sugar, ya gotta believe me. I’d never do that.” He said, clenching his jaw, battling with the anger and rage that was rising up inside of his mind. He didn’t want to explode at you over this. He wasn’t mad at you, he was disgusted with himself of why he wasn’t honest with you when all of this shit started for him. 
Joel’s problem of not getting or being able to sustain an erection didn’t happen right away.  It was a slow process.  At first he thought that maybe it was because things in the bedroom had gotten a little stale. But when Joel struggled to keep an erection even when he was alone, he knew that something was wrong.  He didn’t want you to worry, so he didn’t say anything to you. After a lot of embarrassing situations at home, and with himself, he decided that he needed to bring it up to his doctor.  After a few tests, his doctor had diagnosed him with erectile dysfunction, and then had given him a prescription of Viagra to try. At first Joel was nervous about taking them, wondered if he’d feel different.  But once he did, holy shit, it felt amazing. Those little blue pills were like a magic drug.  He could last longer and was harder than he’d been in years.  When he noticed your increase in sex drive because of it, he felt like he won the lottery, especially when he could give you two orgasms with just his dick alone. 
But slowly, his secret was getting harder and harder to keep from you. He quickly realized that those pills took anywhere between 15 to 60 minutes before they started working, which created a problem when you were trying to be spontaneous with him in the bedroom. At first he played it off at being tired, needing to rest for a little bit.  Sometimes he’d also tell you that he needed to take a shower first, to freshen up for you.  But when you’d wake him up on a Sunday morning, rested and freshly showered the night before, he struggled keeping his secret.  He started using blindfolds in the bedroom when the two of you would have sex, so he could hide the fact that he had to take a pill quick.  Sometimes when he waited for it to work, he’d give you oral sex and edge you.  On days when he couldn’t do that, he’d just lie and tell you that he had a really bad headache and he couldn’t have sex right now.  
He hated lying to you. He always wanted to tell you the truth, but every time he got the nerve to tell you something would happen or it just wasn’t the right time.  If he was being honest, he didn’t tell you because he felt embarrassed and ashamed at the situation. 
As you took another step to go around him, he yelled out “I got erectile dysfunction, ok.  And as much as I'd love to fuck ya right now, my dick won't- fuck- it doesn’t get hard like it used to and I ran out of my prescription pills. I ain’t cheatin’, I never have, and I’ve never wanted to. You got to believe me. I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been honest. But baby, I can’t do it anymore with you like we used to.” He said, voice cracking at the end.  Joel covered his eyes for a moment with his hand, wiping the tears away. 
“I want to fuck you so much right now, so much. But I can’t, ya hear me. It ain’t a different reason, baby. My body, it just won’t let me do it anymore. It won’t let me be the man that I’m supposed to be for you.”
You stood there shocked at his admittance.  When you went to open your mouth to console him, Joel quickly cut you off by saying, “I don't need your pity right now. I know I can't perform up to my wife's satisfaction anymore without help. And before you ask, no, I can’t take a pill right now. I have to wait until my doctor is back from vacation in six weeks. And I get it, you can’t wait that long and-”
“Joel” you said, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. “Honey, I'm so sorry that this has happened.” He scowled at you with your reply, shaking his head and trying to step away. “Baby, please let me finish,” you said, forcing him to stay near you.
After taking a big breath you said, “I wish you would have told me about this when it happened instead of hiding it. Can you get an erection at all or?”
“Sometimes I can,” he said with a sigh, “but it ain't anything to write home about.” Joel let out a long exacerbated sigh. “Fuck, I can't fuck my wife when it's only half hard like this ok, and I’d appreciate it if you didn't think less of me for it and-” 
“Joel Allen Miller,” you said in a commanding tone.  “I would never think less of you for this. Baby, I love you, and everything about you. Yeah it does cause a little bit of an adjustment for us, but honey, I don’t care. You’re my husband and you should never feel like you can’t tell me something like this, ok?”  You then gently cupped your husband with your hand, slowly palming him, feeling him slightly stiffen. 
“Baby I-” Joel said, straining, trying to stay level with his voice and not break down with his words again. He didn't feel like a worthy man right now, and he was so embarrassed to feel or admit it.
“Please, Joel” you softly spoke, “let me try baby, please?”
“Darlin', it ain't gonna-”
“It doesn't have to get fully hard. Just please, please let your wife show her husband how fucking sexy he is, even with this little problem.”
“It ain't a little problem darlin’.” He said, slowly leaning his hips into your touch. He desperately wanted to feel his wife, to be inside her, to fuck her and hear her moan his name. 
“I know it ain’t a little problem honey,” you whispered, gently nipping Joel’s neck. You slowly started to unfasten his belt and unzipped his pants, lowering them with his boxers down to the floor. You encouraged him to step out of them, trying to get him as comfortable as possible. As you stood up, you slowly licked your hand, and then gently wrapped it around his half hardened cock, slowly stroking him the way he liked. You were also nipping, kissing, and lightly sucking on his neck, on the places that you knew drove your husband wild. As you continued, you whispered loving messages to him, things that you hoped would remind Joel of how much you loved him. 
“You are so sexy baby, and so big and strong. I feel so safe with you. I've missed you so much. I missed hearing you snore,” Joel let out a little grunt at that statement. “I've missed hearing you play your guitar, humming in the morning while you make your coffee. I've missed kissing you goodnight, and waking up next to you in the morning with you holding me.”
Joel leaned forward more, pushing your back against the wall as he tapped one of your legs to open wider for him. He quickly placed his hand down your sleep shorts and started playing with your clit as you talked.
“I-ah-I also missed your, your-”
“You missed my what darlin'?” He growled, thrusting his hips into your hand as he started moving two of his large fingers in and out of your wet, throbbing core. 
“Shit Joel, I'm-”
“Did ya miss this baby? Did ya miss your husband's fat fingers fucking you dumb?” He said, nipping at your sensitive spot on your shoulder.
“Mmhmm” you said, tightening your grip around his half hardened cock. Joel wasn't lying, he really did have erectile dysfunction. But at this moment, you didn't care. Your husband was curling those fingers perfectly inside of you, to where you were almost seeing stars while he continued to snap his hips back and forth hard, helping you stroke him the way he liked. 
Even though he wasn't buried deep inside of you. Something about the lewd noises the two of you were making, in combination with not being able to see your husband for the past two weeks, was rapidly propelling you towards the edge with your orgasm. 
Joel could feel your breaths becoming more erratic, and could feel your walls tightening around his fingers. He was also getting closer to finishing himself. Your hand was the perfect tight fit around his cock. He kept rocking his hips back and forth, fucking your hand, feeling himself leak precum everywhere. He wanted to bury himself so badly inside of you, but he knew that he couldn't. Just as he started to feel self conscious again about the situation, your filthy mouth forced him to stay in the moment.
“God, baby, I fucked myself so hard with my fingers when you were gone. But nothing ever felt as good as yours do right now. Fuck, next time I want to fuck myself with my fingers, I'm just gonna use yours-oh fuck.”
“Oh, you dirty fucking girl. Shit- You were fucking those- yeah baby- those small little fingers inside of you pretending- fuck- pretending that they were mine, huh?” He said, speeding up his thrusts with his hips and with his fingers.
“Yes Joel, fuck, don’t stop baby, please don’t-”
“I won’t stop, not until you gush around me.”
The two of you continued to pleasure each other, bringing each other towards the edge, but neither one tipping over just yet.  “Joel, I need more, baby. P-please, give me more,” you moaned. You were desperately snapping your hips back and forth, wishing it was your husband’s cock that was inside of you.
“Aw baby, look at you, riding my fingers like the dirty little girl that y’are.”
“Joel, baby, please-”
“Say it,” Joel growled, “say I'm the only one who makes you feel this good.”
“You are Joel, you are.”
“Say I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little pussy whenever I want.”
“Fuck- You do Joel, you do. It's yours, she's all yours.”
“She's all mine, huh?” Joel said, feeling your walls put his fingers in a choke hold with how tight you were squeezing him. “If she's all mine, then do it. Fucking come for me. Show me who's pussy this really belongs to. Ya heard me, I said come, now,” Joel growled. That coil that had wound itself so tight in your belly snapped hard at Joel’s command. You screamed your husband's name as you coated his fingers with your juices. Joel tightened his grip around your hand that was stroking him, while continuing to work you through your orgasm. After a few more hard thrusts himself, he came all over your hand.
You both slowly came down from your highs, and you couldn't help but giggle at the acts that the two of you just did. It brought back memories of when Joel and you dated. As Joel’s giggles eased he slowly ran his hand that was coated with your juices through your hair. 
“Hey you,” he said, smiling fondly down at you. God he loved you so much, in every way possible. You were his soulmate, his better half.
“Wow, where the heck did that come from?” You said, giggling to yourself again. When you looked up you saw how Joel was looking at you, like he could see your soul. 
“I love you so much, you know that right?” He said, slowly running his nose along your jaw.
“I know,” you said, sighing at his affection.
He then grabbed your hair hard in the back of your head, pulling down slightly to force you to look up at him. It didn't hurt, just surprised you a bit, which forced you to listen to the next words that came out of his mouth.
“Then never, ever, hint at the possibility of me wanting to fuck another woman again, ok. Baby, you are the only one for me. I ain't your father, and I sure as fuck ain't my ex-wife.”
Your eyes widened at the mention of Joel's ex-wife, he never told you the in-depth story of what happened, just the highlights that they drifted apart. “Joel, I-”
“No, sweetheart, I ain't talkin’ about her. What's done is done. Just, don't ever say that to me again, hinting that I'd cheat on you. Cause baby, I'd never, haven't ever, won't-”
“Ok Joel, I promise. No more fussin’.” You gently kissed your husband, giving him the slow intimate affection he was just giving you. After a few more passionate and tender kisses, Joel sighed and rested his head against your forehead, while rubbing his nose slowly against your nose. 
“I reckon we both need a shower,” he said after a moment, exhaling and laughing slightly to himself. “Come on, I'll get the shower started.” 
When Joel got to the bathroom doorway you said, “wait a sec,” and then walked up to him as he turned around to look at you. 
“Next time, please tell me this stuff ok? No more secrets.” He nodded his head in understanding as you leaned up and placed another tender kiss to his lips. When you pulled back you added, “good, cause I hate to break it to you. You’re officially now an old man.” Then with another small peck to his cheek, you sauntered off into the bathroom, giggling at the nickname that you gave him back when he was in his thirties. After starting the shower and getting in, you yelled back “are you coming old man, or do I need to help you with your wheelchair?”
“No wiseass, ya don't,” he yelled, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head at your smartass remark. 
When he looked down he saw himself in the mirror once again. Yes, he did have gray in his beard, in his hair, and on his chest. He also could see that he wasn’t as physically fit as he once was in his 30s, but he still looked good.  He needed glasses to read most of the time now, and you and Sarah constantly harassed him about it. But that was ok. He liked it, and he loved you both dearly. He also creaked worse than the old board on the stairs, along with feeling his age every time he tried to do something that he knew he shouldn't. 
Sure, he had to take medication for his high blood pressure and high cholesterol. And now he got to add a little blue pill to the regimen, just so he could have sex with his wife. He was also at that age where he needed a colonoscopy done, something that was scheduled next week for him. 
With all of these things going on, Joel did have to admit that he was older than when he first started dating you. But even with this admission, he knew from the moments before that he’s never made you come so hard in your life from just his fingers alone. So you could say getting old did have its advantages.
With a small smirk on his face, and a slight puff to his chest, Joel quickly entered the shower with you. When you turned around he said, “old my ass. I'll show you who's old, ya little shit.” Joel then dropped down to his knees and ate you out like a starved man. After he gave you another two orgasms, one of which he heard you screaming his name off the shower walls. He eventually found himself lying next to you, cuddling you in the bed. You were exhausted from all of your extracurricular activities the past two days, and were curled up and ready for a nap. After catching your breath, Joel slowly whispered in your ear, “who's old now darlin’?” 
Before you could answer, Joel made his way down back your body and gave you one more Earth shattering orgasm. He wanted to prove a point. That he, in fact, wasn't too damn old.
End Story
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wttcsms · 7 months
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balancing act ; satoru gojo.
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pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 3.9k   synopsis gojo bets that he can get you to fall in love in three months, and you bet that he can't go three months with staying committed to one person and not bang them. neither of you plan on losing. content contains modern no curses!au, mentions of sex and vulgar language (but no smut yet), simp gojo <3 author’s notes i plan on wrapping things up quickly this time around, so i have five parts planned for this mini series!
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Satoru Gojo is used to a wide array of reactions to any of his antics: awe (the summer analyst, Miwa, always stares at him like he himself is the one who created the stock market), irritation (Nanami is rarely ever in agreement with the comments Gojo leaves on his work), lust (Gojo gives just as much he receives because he’s benevolent like that — his words, of course). 
But he’s not quite used to being laughed at. 
He’s handsome, and he knows it, a deadly combination for any man because Shoko claims that all men are born with an astonishing amount of audacity and it only ever grows as they get older. Satoru brings up the fact that Shoko technically cheated her way through med school, and that any doctor worth her degree wouldn’t get onto patients while lighting up a cigarette of all things, but Shoko is equally stubborn and audacious as any man, and it just makes her a worthy opponent to get into arguments with. 
Being attractive and arrogant isn’t enough to keep him from suffering mild humiliation from time to time, though. The reason why Satoru doesn’t get embarrassed is because the world is unfair, so he happens to be born rich and smart enough and talented enough to just keep on getting richer. Even he is entirely aware of his privilege, but he’s got the type of personality that would be endearing even if he wasn’t hot, so everyone loves him. 
And you don’t hate him, he knows that. He also knows that you don’t love him, which is fine, because it’s not your love, or awe, or irritation, or lust (okay, maybe some lust would be nice) that Satoru wants from you. He just wants you for you, your honesty and whatever scraps of yourself that you toss to him. 
Today’s scraps are your laughter, which rings through the whole entire office, singing above the noisy clacks of keys being smashed by the analysts and the whirring of the printer shooting out hundreds of pages a minute. He feels a warmth spread from his stomach to his chest and maybe it even rises up to his neck, he’s not so sure. He should feel slightly embarrassed, he thinks, to have said something seriously only for you to find comedy in it, but he doesn’t. He just feels pleased with himself for making you laugh, like he’s done something great.
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.” You’re still smiling, even though you’re not bothering to look at him anymore. Your attention is now focused on the report one of the analysts has turned into you, and from the lack of comments you’re leaving, he assumes it’s Megumi’s work. 
“I was being serious, y’know.” Satoru’s more than tall enough to see over the cubicles, especially when he’s standing up, and he leans over it, his head and upper body leaning into your personal desk space. The cubicles don’t do jack shit for privacy, anyway, so he doesn’t feel bad when you complain that he’s invading your privacy. If it was privacy that you craved, you wouldn’t have three monitors raised, each of them displaying a jumble of numbers and words that Satoru doesn’t care about. 
“So was I.” You tell him.
Just thirty minutes ago, you walked into the office with a quad shot espresso, unceremoniously plopped your Longchamp tote onto the floor, and dramatically sighed to get your desk neighbor’s attention. Utahime is always a good sport when it comes to your antics but doesn’t bother extending the same courtesy to Satoru, which he considers to be very unfair considering that he’s technically everyone’s boss. It is his name that’s displayed on the side of the building, and his private equity firm that he’s built up alongside Suguru. 
“What happened this time?” Utahime asks you, like the good sport she is. Satoru, at that time, was pretending not to eavesdrop even though he is, because he’s a nosy bastard. 
“I hate men.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “He left me for someone nice.”
The way you say it lets him — and Utahime, who is actually the person you’re talking to — know that that nice was a direct quote from your ex.
Utahime furrows her brows, looking confused. “But you are nice.” 
Debatable, is what Satoru wants to say, but he’s remaining silent so he can get the full story out of you first.
“No. I’m a workaholic with no personality outside of my fancy finance job.” 
Ouch. 
Satoru doesn’t see an issue with you, though. So what, you’re hardworking and focused? He thinks it’s kinda hot to see someone with so much ambition and discipline. He wouldn’t have hired you if you were anything less. 
“He’s just insecure.” Utahime says, soft voice trying to soothe you, even though Satoru hears the familiar sound of your manicure typing in your login details to your computer. He knows it’s silly to think he can tell the difference between your typing and anyone else’s, and he doesn’t want to think too hard about what that could possibly mean when it comes to defining his feelings for you.
“You said the same thing about my last three exes, and they all said similar things about me.” Satoru can’t see either of you from this angle, but he’s certain that you’re opening up your emails right about now. The conversation is coming to a close, and he needs to start focusing on his own tasks, but then you say something interesting, practically baiting him to come out of his office.
“I’ve decided that from this point forward, I am swearing off men.” 
Utahime laughs. “You can’t just swear off all men because of a few bad ones.”
“Not forever.” You clarify. “Just for the time being. All the men I’ve dealt with  in Tokyo suck.”
On paper, all your exes are fantastic catches. There’s the surgeon (who found you to be too independent), the professor (who thought you were too busy to give him the attention he needed), the hedge fund associate (who thought that he liked smart girls, but apparently, not ones smarter than him), and your newest ex, the investment banker. The irony isn’t lost on anyone — an investment banker criticizing someone for being a workaholic obsessed with the prestige of their finance career? If he was going to scramble for an excuse to want to see other people, he should have chosen some other cliche line instead of using the same one someone else must have said to him. 
“What’s this about men in Tokyo?” Satoru strolls up to the divider between you and Utahime, hands in his pockets, pretending that he hasn’t been listening to the entirety of your conversation from the very beginning.
“That all of them suck.” You say, with that unwavering confidence he likes. 
“I’m a man in Tokyo.” He’s grinning.
“Yeah. I stand by what I said.” You’re not even being courteous enough to look at him, still focused on whatever email is on your screen.
His grin only grows wider.
“Maybe all the men you’ve been with are subpar, but I bet I could change your mind.” 
“Is this even appropriate for work?” Utahime interjects. 
“If it’ll make my dear employee Utahime happy, I can grab someone from HR to supervise this conversation.” Satoru says.
“It’s a trap.” You tell her, lips curling up in a smile that lets him know you’re going to say something very mean and probably true about him. “He’s already broken protocol with everyone who works there.” 
“You’re very disrespectful to your boss. Anyone else would have fired you on the spot.” Satoru only pretends to be wounded by your comments, but everyone knows that he’s as good at taking it as he is at dishing it out. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that Satoru owns this firm because he’s not very good at professionalism himself. 
Utahime mutters something under her breath, deciding not to engage further in whatever it is the two of you are doing.
“So, whaddya say? Wanna test out your ‘all men in Tokyo suck’ theory with me?” He knows this teasing won’t go anywhere, even if he wants it to. You’re good at your job, and you’re good at being a professional. Somehow, he doesn’t think you would consider fucking your boss as something very professional. 
“I would, but I have standards.” 
Satoru wants to make a snide comment about all the guys who have dumped you, but he can’t, because it’s already been established that they’re not just decent by regular standards, but stellar. Rich, successful, well educated men who could probably make you cum. 
Well, Satoru is richer, more successful, and more educated than all of them combined, he thinks. And he would gladly make you cum like crazy, if you let him. 
“C’mon, what’s wrong with me?” 
“Promise I won’t get fired if I’m being honest?” You turn your desk chair, looking up at him with mock doe eyes, and the sight shouldn’t be both endearing and hot to him, but it is. 
“Give me your worst.” He tells you, both of you smiling at the challenge. 
“I don’t give anything of myself to a man who can’t even bother to commit to anyone.” 
Of course, you have a point. Satoru’s not known for dating anyone. He takes women out on extravagant dates, yes, but he doesn’t actually practice the act of dating. 
He doesn’t see a point to it. Most people, save for his friends (a bit weird to consider some of his closest companions are actually his employees), see beyond his shiny veneer, and dating would just complicate things. Dating means someone seeing the duller, not-so-great parts of himself.  
“I could commit if it’s you.” 
The way he says it, without that familiar teasing lilt of his, makes you burst out laughing. He really is trying to commit… to the bit, that is. For a moment, Satoru almost tricks you into thinking he’s serious. 
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.”
You’re focused on your work, not the momentary hurt look that disappears from his face as quickly as it came. 
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” He tells you. “I bet I could make you believe in love again.” 
“Who said I didn’t believe in love?” You frown at that. “I just don’t believe that the men in this city are capable of it.” 
“Bonus season is upon us.” Satoru says, suddenly having a bright idea. He’s so rich that his wealth seems to be an extension of himself, and like all other parts of his body and mind, he uses it to his advantage. 
“Ugh, don’t tell me this conversation is going to affect my bonus check. I really will go to HR, then.” 
“I’ll double your bonus pay if you let me court you for three months.”
“Court me?” You’re laughing at him again. He eats it up, savors it, lets it settle on his tongue and warm his insides. 
“If you’re so convinced I’d be horrible and only prove you right, wouldn’t you jump at the chance to make some easy money?” 
He’s trying to bait you into accepting; you know it. You also know that nothing from Gojo comes easy. He makes it entirely too convenient to forget that he’s razor sharp and cutthroat, the things he needs to be in order to remain on top of the finance scene, but he’s always joking, always teasing, that it feels like he almost doesn’t like being taken seriously. 
“Like I said, I don’t deal with men with commitment issues.”
There was a brief moment in time where you considered going out with Gojo. The two of you have always been rotating in the same social circles, way back to your high school and university days. You don’t shame him for having casual sex because Gojo is genuinely sweet when he wants to be, and you know that everyone he’s ever fucked has done so more than willingly, probably too eagerly. They all get broken up over the fact that Gojo never wants to actually enter into a relationship with them, and it’s probably because they chose not to take him seriously. He has a bad habit of spitting out the truth but presenting it like some sort of joke. A guy shouldn’t take you out to a nice dinner and make you cum twice before even thinking about himself if he doesn’t want a girl to fall in love with him. 
For as long as you’ve known Gojo, he’s never dated once. Never a high school sweetheart or a tumultuous college relationship bound for disappointment and a messy breakup. Even now, he doesn’t follow the example of the other men in positions of power like him, who pursue doe-eyed college girls to shower with affection and trap into manipulative relationships. 
He’s cute and funny and would treat you right, but you can’t deal with the embarrassment of having someone only for one night or two, only to have them do the same thing they did with you, just with someone else. It would feel like a mockery. Your pride doesn’t give you room to give in to Gojo’s charm.
“Is that really your only stipulation?” He shrugs, like this is something insignificant, and you’re being so silly. “I’ll stay committed to you for the entire duration of the bet.” 
You narrow your eyes. “You need to keep your dick wet at all times. I’m pretty sure you die if you don’t get off at least once a day.” 
Utahime coughs, but it sounds too much like a laugh. 
“True, but I bet you’d be great at keeping me alive.” 
Oh, he is definitely getting sent to HR.
“So you want me to believe in love, and you’re convinced you can do this by the time bonus season rolls around, which is only three months.” You’re entering business mode, rearranging the facts and coming up with strategies in your head. Satoru never thought that someone thinking could be so attractive, but here he is, and here you are. 
“I’ll agree to participate, but only if you can handle what I consider to be proper courting.”
“What does that consist of?” He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. There’s nothing Satoru Gojo cannot accomplish. He’s built up his own wildly successful private equity firm, doubling his family’s fortune. He graduated top of his class. He gives every girl he’s ever been with consecutive, mind blowing orgasms using just his tongue and two fingers. There’s nothing you could possibly say that his natural talents and money can’t handle. 
“No sex. No kissing. No touching.” You lean back in your chair, looking far too smug. 
“Done.” 
He doesn’t even have to think about agreeing, but you falter, just for a second. 
“Really?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“It’s not just you saying no to sex with me, but sex in general.” You pause, trying to spot when the realization of the severity of his situation is. When he doesn’t give you a reaction, just still continuing to tilt his head in mild amusement, you continue. “You can’t flirt or take anyone else on a date, and you definitely can’t fuck them, either.” 
“Yes, I’m aware.” 
“You’re going to regret this.” You huff, certain that Gojo is dumber than you thought. He might think this is all fun and games now, but when he’s pent up and unable to get off, you’re certain you’re going to receive a text from him forfeiting the bet altogether. It shouldn’t bother you that he acts like your addition to the bet is easy, because his failure means your pockets get fatter, but it’s no fun playing games when someone isn’t ready to fully play to win.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Make sure to finish going over all the analysts’ slide decks because I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” 
The timer for the bet starts tomorrow, then.
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Satoru thinks it’s cute that you thought you had him there, dangling sex like he’s some barbarian who can’t survive without it. Sure, fucking is fun, and sure, you’re definitely denying yourself of some of the greatest experiences you could have had, but he uses his brain more than his dick. 
If any girl is worth going celibate for, it’d be you.
Sitting in his office, he can’t concentrate on his work. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much that you think not having access to your body would be enough to turn him away. Either you really do think he’s a sex addict, or the men you’ve been with aren’t as great as they appear to be. It’s probably a mixture of both, but this conclusion doesn’t make him any happier. 
Neither does having Suguru saunter into his office, without knocking. Just walks in, like he owns the place. And with his fifty-percent ownership of the firm, and his last name right next to Gojo’s on the building, he kind of does.
“HR is going to have a field day with you,” his best friend says in exchange for a greeting. Satoru would have preferred a hello.
“HR is in charge of the payroll that I fund,” is Satoru’s retort. 
“Only you would force an employee into a childish bet instead of asking her out like a normal person.”
“Didn’t force her.” Satoru conveniently doesn’t acknowledge the latter half of his statement.
“Didn’t really give her much choice, either.” Suguru smiles. “Shit, even I’d deal with your ass for two hundred grand more.” 
“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m committed to one woman only.” 
“God help her.” And then, after taking a second to think, Suguru continues. “Actually, if He really cared, He wouldn’t have kept leading her to the same places as you.” 
“Maybe I’m her blessing.” 
No one in the office knows why Suguru is laughing so hard behind Gojo’s closed door.
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“There’s no way this is legal,” Utahime tells you, taking a sip out of her iced matcha latte before continuing on her half-lecture/half-rant. “Gojo needs to be behind bars.”
A bit dramatic, all things considered. It’s not like Gojo’s comments even make the list for sleazy things male coworkers have said to you before, and you’re not entirely innocent, either. You like to poke and prod at him because it’s fun, and you know that Gojo can take it. 
Utahime does not respect Gojo, but she does like him enough to tolerate him. They’re like brother and sister, so much so that one time, someone made an offhand comment about how they should just fuck to get rid of their antagonism towards each other, and they both threw up because they were so disgusted. 
“It is a bit inappropriate,” Nanami comments, and you know he’s right because when has Nanami ever been wrong?
Granted, Nanami must have been wrong sometime in his life. He started out with a similar background as everyone else working in the firm. He landed an internship and then a return offer in investment banking, despised it, pursued academia, and was halfway done with a PhD program in economics before he decided to come back and work for Gojo and Geto. He doesn’t tell anyone why he came back, and no one is close enough with him to ask and expect an honest answer.
Nanami having lunch with you is a treat because he prefers avoiding everyone in the office, so it almost feels like you’ve won a coveted prize, one to show off whenever you get back to the office. He likes to keep to himself, but even he’s only human. The interest in your little bet with Gojo is harbored by him, too, same as everyone else who’s heard about it. 
You should feel embarrassed about having your life so publicly known, but finance is a small, incestual pool. Everyone working within it knows each other, has fucked each other, and will continue to exclusively hate and love only each other. It’s a bit cultish, if you think about it, so you try not to focus on the social aspects of the job. 
“It’s not like I’m on his team or anything. I technically only handle deals managed by Geto.” You say this in defense of yourself, as if it changes the morality and ethics of the whole bet. It doesn’t, but the attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. 
“Geto and Gojo are essentially two halves of the same whole.” Utahime replies. “Geto just has more public decency training.” 
“You’re telling me that you can see Geto betting someone that he can make her fall in love with him in three months?” 
“No. He’s not as audacious. I like Geto, he’s very cautious.” Nanami looks thoughtful for a second. “He would bet six months, just to be safe.” 
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Satoru knows that he’s screwed the moment you’re being introduced as the newest student in his class. School started two weeks ago, so everything’s already been settled. Everything important, that is, so the hottest girl in class has been established, along with who’s going to be relentlessly bullied, and who everyone is going to cheat off of. He has different routes mapped out for getting to class, depending on his mood and who he’s trying to avoid, along with a new secret hiding spot that he’s not going to share with anyone, except for Suguru, and maybe Shoko. 
He likes that he’s already gotten all this shit dealt with so he can spend the rest of the year relaxing, but he’s watching you as you’re standing in front of the class, talking to the teacher and then introducing yourself.
The first thing he notices is that the ugly school uniforms are decidedly not ugly. He comes to this startling conclusion when the boxy, starchy white button-up shirt doesn’t look like cardboard on you, and that the gray wool of your skirt doesn’t wash you out. 
The next thing he notices is that you speak differently than any of the other teenage girls he’s dealt with, save for Utahime and Shoko. Shoko has no issue with speaking her mind, and if Satoru presses enough buttons with enough pressure, he can get Utahime to curse like a sailor. He spaces his aggressions out accordingly, so that way when she does blow up in his face, she does it in the presence of an adult. You introduce yourself confidently; there is nothing shy or meek about you, even though standing in front of a bunch of disinterested teens — your strange new peers for the rest of your high school years — should be anxiety inducing. 
Then, you take the empty seat next to him like it belongs to you, and Satoru is starting to think that maybe it does, that maybe it always has. 
(Well, Suguru is sick today, that’s why the seat was available.)
Anyway, all of his carefully laid out plans are now tossed out the window. He needs to figure out what route you take to get around, and what the rest of your class schedule looks like, and maybe it’s just him, but the former hottest girl in school has now been demoted to second-best. 
He feels a shift in the air, like the universe is trying to signal major change in his life, and rather than run away from it, Satoru settles into his seat, noticing how you’re not even giving him the time of day. 
There’s an unfamiliar feeling rising inside of him; something that says you’re going to constantly knock him off-balance and—
—he kinda likes it.
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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Hi, I've just discovered your page, and I love all your stories, Especially the Alastor x Readers. So, I was just wondering if you could do an Alastor x Fem Reader, like how would he react to his doe announcing being pregnant/ How would he be as a dad? Also the same for Lucifer? if it's not too much?
Family Man
Alastor x GN!Reader, Lucifer x GN! Reader
A/N: Hihi! Thank you so much for requesting friend! I made this more into a headcanon/fic thing! Thank you for your kind words, friend!
TW:Pregnancy, anxiety that comes with that topic, Alastor being Alastor
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Alastor:
-🦌 First off when you told him, he was silent for a very very long time. I’m talking full on deer in headlights moment, he stayed like that for an hour. Your poor husband was confused and his brain had to reboot.
-🦌 Once he gets out of his funk, he’s going to ask you if your okay with that and if having a family is what you want. Don’t get me wrong, he’s excited but he’s also extremely nervous. He never thought of himself as a family man.
-🦌 It’s not that he hates kids or children in general he just never saw the interest in them. Little tiny humans running around just didn’t appeal to him, he also didn’t have time when he was alive. Ya know between killing and running his radio show.
-🦌 But once he makes sure it’s what you wanted? He’s going all out, I’m talking about getting everything from a bigger room in the hotel to little baby clothes (he acts like he’s uninterested but by Lucifer you catch his eyes lingering a little too long with a certain softness). 
-🦌 Won’t let you lift a finger at all (not like he didn’t before). 100% more overprotective than anything. You want to go out on a walk? He’s with you immediately, arm wrapped around your waist. He can’t go with you? His shadows are following you. 
Alastor was in the middle of a conversation disagreement with Husk before his focus was pulled away seeing you put on your coat, “Darling, where are you off to on this fine Hellish afternoon?” He asked, appearing behind you with his arm wrapped around your waist as he bent down to gently kiss your cheek. “Going on walk,” You hummed as he sent a gaze down towards your growing belly. “Perfect!~ Maybe if you're up for it we can stop by Cannibal Town to speak with Rosie~” He hummed, forgetting all about the conversation from before his focus mainly on you.
-🦌 Speaking of Rosie, once she knows about your pregnancy she’d be over the moon and makes it her mission to watch over you if Alastor has “business” murder to attend to as well as makes herself an Auntie. You didn’t mind at all.
-🦌 Once you go into labor? He is right beside you wiping your forehead and allowing you to squeeze his hand as much as you want. As well as making death threats to whoever was helping you deliver the baby whether that be a doctor or someone from the Hotel. He has very creative ways of explaining how he would skin someone from head to toe.  If you weren’t in so much pain (and delirious from the medication) you would’ve told him to chill.
-🦌 Now once the baby is in your arms and he’s calmed down significantly, he’s going to be pampering you and his child. He doesn’t care for what the gender of his child is, he just wants you and his child to be happy.
-🦌 Now, this might go without saying but Alastor is a Mama’s boy through and through so if he does end up having a daughter there is a chance he might name her after his mother in someway. If it’s a boy, he’ll allow you to have full reign on the naming process while giving his input as well.
-🦌 Now, I see Alastor as a laid back but strict parent. He’ll allow his kid(s) to have full reign and learn what hurts them or not. But will step in if they are truly in danger or about to get seriously hurt. Will give out amazing advice when needed. But most likely will stay back. 
-🦌 No matter the gender of his kid(s), they will sit with him in his radio tower as he shows them what does what. He does this mostly when they are babies or toddlers when they get older he actually teaches them on what does what and how to successfully run a radio show. You have caught him doing this multiple times and he has yet to apologize cause they need to know how important radio is.
You were making your way up to your husband’s tower as you had a sneaking suspicion that he had once again taken your child up there. As you entered through the hatch you watched the display of your husband holding the sleeping toddler in his arms as he rocked back and forth. “These dials right here help you change the frequency and volume of your show..” he softly whispered out his ears, flickering noting your sudden appearance. You walked over as quietly as you could watching as the small tail on your toddler wagged in their sleep. You didn’t dare disrupt him now as he had a way of getting them to bed easily.
-🦌 Overall, he would be great in some aspects. Once again very laid back but still very much present and active in everything involving both you and your child together. He has some flaws in his parenting but honestly who doesn’t. 7/10 in my books. 
-🦌 Oh also- Dad jokes all day, every day. He once again will not apologize, good luck.
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Lucifer:
-🍎 Oh boy our favorite short King in the house. He’s done this rodeo for Charlie all those years ago, he knows what to do.
-🍎 But once you tell him in the form of rubber duckies (idk that seems so cute to me) he looks up at you confused before he starts bawling. Don’t worry it’s because he is super excited and he’s an emotional guy, please give him hugs and kisses.
-🍎 Once he is done crying, he picks you up and spins you around before the anxiety sets in. Do you want to be a parent? What if he isn’t a good father? What he fucks up again?
-🍎 Please reassure him and give him more kisses, tell him you do want to be a parent with him and he’ll be a great father and if he fucks up, you’ll be there 100% of the way to help him back on the right track. He appreciates you so much.
-🍎 He is super nervous to tell Charlie cause what if she doesn’t approve? What if she gets upset? She doesn’t, Charlie is super super excited to have another sibling and when she hears the news she cries much like her father. So now you have your husband and stepdaughter sobbing in each other’s arms.
-🍎 Charlie convinces you both to do a baby shower/gender reveal party at the hotel. Vaggie makes sure to keep the troublemakers Angel and Alastor at bay. Lucifer the whole time is making sure you're alright and comfortable while also crying at the tiny baby booties.
You smiled at your husband who was walking back with a glass of water for you, “Are you okay? Do you need anything else, Darling?” He whispered out sitting next to you, making you smile and shake your head. “I’m fine, Luci..go enjoy the baby shower Charlie set up for us..” You whispered out watching as he pouted at the thought of leaving you his very pregnant spouse.
-🍎 Idk why but my brain just wants Lucifer to have twins so bam- he’s gonna have twins now. Poor man had to let his brain reset for a hot minute cause now he’s gonna have double the babies. He will cry so please hug him close again.
-🍎 Oh boy oh boy when you go into labor? He is the best person to go to, he’ll let you scream and curse at him while he comforts you and gives you little kisses between praises. Wiping the sweat and tears from your face while allowing you to squeeze his hand.
-🍎 When he holds the twins? He cries most definitely and promises to do everything he can to make his babies happy.
-🍎 Another man who doesn’t care what the gender of his babies are, if they are healthy and happy he is happy. The possibilities here for names are endless. The babies most definitely get his blonde hair and rosy red cheeks.
-🍎 Now having twins gives him the opportunity to be like, “Not only do I have one cute baby, I have TWO” and proceeds to turn around to show the other baby happily sleeping in a baby sling. You always laugh cause why is your husband so cute?
-🍎 You both need a break or want to go out on a date and can’t get a babysitter? Not to worry Big Sis Charlie is to the rescue with Vaggie and the rest of the crew!
“Are you sure Charlie? We can find someone else if you're too busy.” You asked, feeling horrible but Charlie happily waved off your concern, “Nonsense! I’d love nothing more than to look after my siblings as you and dad go take some well needed rest!” She hummed, glancing over at Vaggie who was happily holding one of the sleeping twins and Lucifer glaring at Alastor who was watching from afar. “Okay, if you're sure..If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” You replied watching as your other baby happily chomped on your husband’s finger with the amount of confidence only babies seem to have.
-🍎 Overall, Lucifer’s parenting style is great! He’s a little anxious but who isn’t when dealing with babies, he’ll mess up sure but once again lead him in the right direction and he’ll be fine. I’d give him a 9/10 here. Minus one point because of the dad jokes mixing with the duck jokes (but that’s what we love about him no? It’s mostly the dad jokes.)
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thatfandomslut · 2 months
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Fighting For You
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Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: reader was in the Burn Book, arguing, make outs
Request:
Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 4 and piece of chocolate 7. Or: “So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” w/ falling in love
Valentine's / Follower's Celebration requests are closed.
Regina lay in the hospital bed wanting desperately to get up. She couldn't believe that she forgot to take out the page of the Burn Book about (Y/n). While she knew she was in the wrong, it was only made worse when she realized how distinct (Y/n)'s handwriting was when she held the page up to Regina with her eyes filled with tears. '(Y/n) (L/n), even more weird and gay than Janis Imi'ike.' While she felt the insult was tamer than the others, she still knew the gravity it held (Y/n). Hurting (Y/n) felt worse than getting hit by a bus, and Regina now knew both from experience.
With a groan, she reached over to find her phone on the side table, wincing when she stretched too far. When her fingers finally caught the sides of the phone, she drew it closer and held her phone up to where she could see it. Still nothing. (Y/n) hasn't responded to any of her calls or Regina's numerous messages. She was beginning to feel desperate for (Y/n)'s attention. This was something she wasn't used to feeling as she typically didn't have to beg for others to notice her. However, (Y/n) was proving harder and harder to get in touch with. So, it resulted in her finally giving in and calling the last person she thought she'd ever call, Janis Imi'ike.
It rang a few times, and Regina was about to just end the call when she heard a confused 'hello' on the other end. "Janis, perfect," she said, smirking to herself feeling like she finally found an in. "Is there any way you can get me in touch with (Y/n)? She's been ignoring all of my phone calls, and I just want to talk to her." The sooner the better. Regina was due for another dosage of her medicine, and her medication made her incredibly loopy.
There was an annoyed sigh from the other end. Regina gave a side-eye to her phone, despite Janis not even being able to see her. "Regina, first, why do you still have my number? We haven't talked since eighth grade." She stated over the phone, hoping Regina understood how strange it was to receive this call. At the same time, there was a bit of sympathy in her voice. "As for, (Y/n), whatever you wrote about her in the book, and yes, we know you had a part in it, really hurt (Y/n). I'll talk to her, but there that's all I can do. And, I can't make any promises that she'll want to talk to you." Janis said before hanging up, leaving Regina a bit more deflated.
She knew that Janis still might not be able to get (Y/n) to call. Regina also completely understood why (Y/n) was so upset. If it was the other way around, Regina would be plotting her revenge. She knew that (Y/n) deserved her space and that she couldn't force her way in, but she couldn't lose her. The only person that seemed to be inflicting any positive change in Regina was (Y/n). Now, there was a chance she might've ruined it forever, and that absolutely killed her. When the doctors came in to give her the medication, she sighed and decided to try and sleep.
When Regina woke up, she wasn't expecting (Y/n) to be seated beside her chair. She almost thought that she imagined the girl as she flipped through her chapter book. Her vision was still too bleary to see what the book was exactly. But a smile crept on her face as she looked over (Y/n) in a sleepy haze. "You came," she said, her words slurring slightly. It was a tell-tell sign that she was drugged up on medicine. (Y/n) looked up in surprise before a small smile appeared on her lips. Regina could barely see it but she recognized the small upturn of (Y/n)'s lips anywhere. "I thought you weren't gonna come," Regina spoke, peering up at the girl.
In an attempt to sit up, she smiled wide. "I wasn't planning on coming." (Y/n)'s words almost sobered Regina up instantly. There was a look of thought on (Y/n)'s face. Regina always knew when she was thinking because her brows would furrow and she would look down to whatever was at her feet. "Look, what you did was mean, but I want to forgive you. It’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” (Y/n) told her with a sheepish smile playing on her lips.
Regina swore that it was misty in the room all of a sudden. Her normally icy blue eyes were mellow and kind. "Okay, yeah, we'll work on it together." She said, holding out her hand. (Y/n) took it carefully, wondering if Regina would even remember this later. She wanted to say it when Regina was sober, but her thoughts were finally in one place, and the words spilled out naturally. Regina played with (Y/n)'s fingers as she danced in and out of sleep with (Y/n) in the room. While the air between them was still tense, there was a new calm that settled over the room. Regina felt more safe and comfortable with (Y/n) by her side. It almost made her forget about the corrective neck collar around her throat.
The two were fully aware forgiveness wasn't going to come overnight, nor would it be awarded just because Regina was in an accident. The two would need to work together, and when Regina felt better, there was bound to be a long discussion on the events. But, for now, (Y/n) decided it was okay to provide some temporary forgiveness as she allowed Regina to clutch her hand. The steady sound of the heart monitor beeping let (Y/n) know Regina was still there, and she fell into the same state of peace Regina was in.
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agaypanic · 3 months
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Could you do Carlisle Cullen x wife fem!reader where she accompanied Bella to the hospital and someone tries to flirt with her and he saw what happened and got jealous even though they have been married for centuries🤭. Add something you'd like. Tag me later! Thanks.
Not Interested (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader)
Masterlist
Request Something
Summary: Hearing the news about Edward saving Bella from a rogue van, you rushed to the hospital. While trying to find your husband and family, you seem to attract some unwanted attention.
A/N: tweaked the first part of the request but that’s it. au where esme doesn’t exist
***
When you had gotten a call from Alice telling you that Edward had saved Chief Swan’s daughter and Rosalie had followed the ambulance they were in to the hospital, you knew you had to go over to play mediator. Rosalie was very clear about her stance on Edward’s infatuation with Bella and the danger that infatuation could put all of you in; it was becoming a constant topic of argument between the two. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to visit your husband.
The hospital parking lot was a bit crowded when you arrived, you felt lucky when you finally found a spot. It seemed that everyone was concerned about Bella’s well-being, even though you heard that she was very adamant about being okay.
You pushed through the small crowd to get inside and went to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hello, Mary!” You said with a polite smile. Being married to the best doctor in Forks, who worked long hours, had made you acquainted with almost everyone on the staff. “Do you know if Carlisle is busy right now?”
“He’s with a patient, but I’ll page him so he knows to come down when he’s done.” She responded with a sweet tone. You thanked her and sat in the small waiting room, grabbing a magazine off the table to flip through as you waited for your husband or one of your kids to come.
From the corner of your eye, you saw someone approaching you. Thinking it was one of your children or Carlisle, you glanced up. But it was just a stranger, so you stuck your nose back in the magazine.
“Hey.” The man said, sitting in the seat next to you. You subtly shifted away from him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new to town?”
You were a bit surprised that he didn’t know you or recognized you, at the very least. Even though you usually stayed at home, you were well-known around the hospital and the high school. Besides, your family was a bit of a hot topic, being so pale and mysterious and keeping to yourselves. And this was a small town where everyone knew everyone.
“Nope.” You responded, trying to be polite while also conveying that you weren’t interested in talking much. “I’ve lived here for a few years.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you around?” He leaned forward, a curious smirk on his face. You did your best to hide your grimace.
“I guess we’ve never been in the same place at the same time.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Maybe we should do something to fix that.” You wanted to roll your eyes at his forwardness. To him, you were a complete stranger sitting in a hospital. For all he knew, you could be waiting to see a family member on their deathbed, and he wants to flirt. “Do you wanna maybe go get a drink?”
“I’m fine.” You replied with indifference.
“Aw, don’t be like that. I bet I could show you a good time.”
You laughed, shutting the magazine and dropping it onto the table. You could sense someone coming down the hall, and you knew exactly who it was. And you knew he was making his steps a little heavier than usual to make his presence known. 
“Believe me, I’m not interested.” By the time you were standing and looking down on the stranger, Carlisle had reached the waiting room, his gaze fixated on the two of you. You turned your head and smiled brightly. “Darling! There you are!”
You strode over to your husband and kissed him on the cheek, the faintest lip print being left on his pale cheek. You could feel the jealousy radiating off of him, but the slight snarl on his lips turned into a loving smile.
“Hello, dear.” His arm was wound firmly around your waist, the tips of his fingers skimming your hip. The hold felt possessive, like he needed to make it clear to this mystery man and anyone who passed by you that they had no chance. It was amusing to you that even after a few centuries of marriage, Carlisle still felt jealous when someone tried to win you over, even when you were blatantly uninterested. 
Speaking of the stranger, Carlisle gave him a glaring glance, and he knew it was time for him to leave. When he was out the door, Carlisle softened. 
“What are you doing down here?”
“Alice told me about the van.” You said, pursing your lips. “I had a bit of a feeling that Rosalie would come here to have a word or two with Edward about the whole thing.”
“You, my little angel, are very smart.” Carlisle smiled down at you before nodding towards the other side of the room, where two of your children were quietly hissing arguments to each other. “And they are right on time.”
You laughed a little before letting Carlisle walk you over to Rosalie and Edward to hear the full story, even though you had already gotten most of it from Alice. The entire time, Carlisle’s arm stayed around you, a constant reminder to everyone that you belonged to each other for eternity.
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endemise · 4 months
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DEMO
→ Latest Update: Prologue — 3 February 2024
17+ The Fall of House Black — A gothic, supernatural, mystery interactive fiction story. Lightly inspired by The Fall of the House of Usher and Frankenstein media. (Work in Progress)
Synopsis has mentions of death and suicide. See extended content warnings below.
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The fall of House Black, your house, was an imminent thing. A name had never been so cursed that all it could do was bring about death.
First, your younger sister in a swimming accident, then your older brother in a case of mistaken identity. As the rest of your family sought to grieve and bring justice to your brother, your older sister was killed in a hunting accident at the end of your father’s bow.
The three of you, mother, father, and child, became inconsolable. Broken beyond repair. Your mother unable to bear the weight of life any longer took her own while your father disappeared, gone into the night. When you remain the sole survivor of House Black, you know you must leave, and on the night of your decision, your home goes up in flames with you inside.
Then, you awake, dazed with no recollection of anything, and when you look down at your body, you scream. It is wrong. So wrong.
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Play as a reanimated, customizable character.
Learn how to be a person again.
Try to survive in a society that fears the unknown.
Develop relationships. (4 ROs: All gender-selectable + 1 secret RO)
Aid in the investigation of your family’s untimely deaths.
Learn about your family’s curse.
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Aesop/Almira Hammond | Detective | 36 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
A is an observant and clever person, stoic in nature. They put their all into their work, striving to find the truth in every case. They take on the case of your family’s sudden deaths despite pushback from others. It was an occurrence of events all too strange, and they are determined to figure it out.
Cyprian/Cecilia Atterton | Writer | 28 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
C is an imaginative and creative person, quiet in nature. They write not only from their own experiences, but the experiences of others as well. They are interviewing people about House Black, intending on writing a book about your family’s ill fate and eventual demise.
Sebastian/Sabina Farwell | Doctor | 34 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
S is an intelligent and kind person, caring in nature. They are a most trusted doctor, hardworking and honest. They were the young doctor that tried to help your father and sister. They helped without question, never calling your family cursed as you so often were.
Elias/Elosia Osborne | Coroner | 30 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
E is an empathetic and hardworking person, cheerful in nature. They put their heart into their work, aiming to bring closure to people as swiftly as possible. They are the one who investigated and confirmed the death of your elder sister. They never could for you though.
Unknown | ??? | ??? | RO
A secret. Who knows when they will appear.
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SUBJECT TO CHANGE
Mentions of death, child death, suicide, violence, blood, injury, burning alive, body horror, mutilation, slight gore, amnesia
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asks are welcomed!
DISCLAIMER
this is a demo/work in progress. everything is subject to change until the final version. it is by no means a finished or polished work.
LINKS
→ demo | same one, just another link
→ itch.io | my creator page
→ @ethersic | my main, art, etc. blog
INFO
word count w/o code: 6.3k
next update: tbd
written with twine (tweego)/sugarcube
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