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shapard · 2 months

Text

Feather of Fate 🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Oh-

NSFW, MDNI

Lift Me Up

Chapter 5 < Chapter 6 > Chapter 7

This was the best sleep you ever had in your life.

The bed felt warm and cozy, too comfortable to even move an inch.

You in Lucifers Arms and Lucifer in yours.

You smelled the sweet caramel Apple and musk again and hearing a light snoring from Lucifer.

His wings were settled around you hugging him deeper into your chest, protectively.

He was scared that someone would take you away. His arm was resting on your waist and the tickling warm feeling settled in.

Your mind hummed in approval, and for the first time it was quiet.

No thoughts in your mind, just you and him.

Everything felt perfect.

Fluttering your eyes open you searched for Lucifer.

He was laying peaceful between your chest and grumbled into them. You laughed at the ticklish feeling from his breath.

He snuggled deeper into one of your breasts, it stung a bit from the pressure but nothing you can’t handle.

This man loves tits, not caring if their small, medium, or large.

He just loves them.

And yours were just so perfect and soft for him.

Hunger hit you like a punch in the face, your stomach grumbled and ached for food.

You haven’t eaten for days.

Grumbling, you sat up letting Lucifer slide onto your lap. His hand is still holding your waist tight.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes to see properly you stroked his hair softly.

His wings were capturing you in the bed, but you have to eat something.

Shaking Lucifer softly to wake him up, to no success. “

Luci.” You Shaked him harder and he just cursed into your thigh, snuggling deeper into your lap. “Lucifer!” You screamed this time, he sprung up into defenses pose ready to protect his mate from the non-existing threat.

You called out his name again, “Let’s eat something. I think we’re both Hungry.”

Lucifers wings disappeared into his back and now he was facing you.

You had shorts on from him and an oversized t-shirt he bought you once.

Not again.

He started to blush at the sight.

Your hair all a mess and the soft facial expression. He was amazed to say at least.

Walking towards you, kind of hypnotized by your appearance.

He reached again out for your waist and pullled you closer to him. You let out a quiet gasp and he laughed it off.

“You’re so pretty.” His voice was all gruffed out from the long sleep he longed for and needed.

You giggled when he prepped kisses all over your face down to your neck.

When he reached the neck, he started to suck your flesh, you reward him with a low moan.

He pushed you back down on his bed, pressing his morning wood against your clothed heat.

“So pretty.” He whispers into the crook of your neck. His breath is brushing against your sensitive neck.

Your womanhood started to burn with a wanting feeling.

A feeling of desire burned through your body, you felt like lava.

It clouded your mind.

To get some relief you rubbed your clit on his covered dick to get more friction, you want more.

The desire was too strong to ignore and Lucifer felt the same.

You needed more of him. And he needed you as much as you needed him.

The room around you felt like a Sauna. No air to breathe, it was suffocating.

You two stopped abruptly.

His stomach now grumbled too because of its emptiness.

You halt.

Groaning he sat up, being disappointed at his body being his own cock-blocker.

You laughed at his disappointed facial expression.

“Let’s get some food.”

_______

Lilith observed Michael's childish trotting around destroying his room.

It’s not the first time that Lilith saw him throwing a tantrum, but he never destroyed his own stuff.

This was new.

“What made you Angry this time, Michael?” She raised her brows looking at the messed-up man in front of her.

Michael snapped at Lilith puling her hair to make her look in his eyes.

“Your damn husband-” “Ex- Husband. We’re divorced.” Lilith quickly corrected him.

Michael slapped Lilith hard in the face, a bruise started to form. "Don't shush me slut."

She doesn’t want to be associated with Lucifer anymore. And most likely not from Michael.

Her eyes are half closed because of the sharp pain on her scalp.

"He's not my husband anymore, and never will be."

Michael rolled his eyes, “He’s in hell because of you. You made him give eve the forbidden apple in the first place.” Raising his eyebrow, remembering all the shit that happened when Lilith entered Lucifers life.

And he remembered how she came crawling to him, pleading to go back to heaven.

Just like she did when Lucifer gave eve the apple.

Pleading him to let her part in history out. Even though she Influenced him, she doesn't want to look bad in front of God.

Slut.

Michael sat down on the couch, removing the glass shards that were spread all over it. He re-styled his hair and took a deep breath in.

“I want you to go down there.” Michael announced, now looking at Lilith.

Lilith started to laugh nervously. “What do you mean, I’ll not go down there.”

Michael mimicked her nervous laugh, a chain appeared around Lilith’s neck pushing her down towards Michael’s feet as he let her hair go.

A golden paper puffed out with Lilith signature underneath the signature line. „You’ll go down there Miss ‘I don’t want to see my ex-Man’ You’re in heaven because of me and you’ll do as I say. You signed up for this.”

Lilith shivered scared that the crazy man in front of her will do more than just threating her.

His voice was everywhere and nowhere, his eyes showing nothing but a blue icy glow.

The air around them started to freeze.

He tapped on the golden paper to showcase Lilith that he owns her soul, and she can’t do anything about it.

He got her on the leash.

And no one will save her.

________

Lucifer and you ate in silent.

Even though you both were all cozying up with each other, there was still a thick tension in the room.

You both avoided the elefant that was still in the room.

With a sigh you laid the fork on the halfway eaten plate. “So,” you started to play with the napkin, “about Michael.” Lucifer visibly tensed when you mention his name.

“Your older brother. He’s quiet, scary.” A clink from the fork colliding with the empty plate from Lucifer and you gave him your full attention.

“Twin actually. Heh... we are twins...”

He wiped the remaining food on his lips away with a napkin, “and he wasn’t always like that. But something changed, he changed. Jealousy can bring the worst out of people. And it consumed him. He always thought I got more than- Can we talk about this another day? I just want to spent time with you.”

You agreed with him.

Whatever Michael did to him was still hurting him.

It showed in the way he reacts, and how you felt in unease when you thought about him.

You continue to eat in the silence.

Lucifer threw here and there a couple of jokes, but something was off.

It annoyed Lucifer, he thought everything is going to be okay.

But when he’s looking at you, he saw that the guilt was still eating you alive.

You were still worried about him.

“Are your wings healing?” You asked, showing how this all still affected you.

Lucifer clapped his hands together, he’s had enough.

He doesn't need your sympathy, all he needs is you beside him.

“Darling, I’m fine. Stop overworking your cute little brain over it. I’m Lucifer! The king of Hell, I can survive this.” He flexed his Biceps signaling you that he’s good in shape.

But you can’t stop it.

He still looked exhausted and tired, he’s skinnier than before and his face looked so empty.

He was clearly still exhausted, and it was still your fault.

“I know Luci, but you don’t look okay.” Pictures from the event yesterday flooded in your mind, how he laid there defeated and with no strength.

His wings almost naked with lesser feathers and the still present ones were started to lose its colors.

You know how an Angel looks with depression and with loss of a soulmate.

“I hurt you.”

Lucifer gave you a worried look when you started to sniffle. The thought of you being the cause that he almost died was burning like acid in your heart.

He took your hand very gentle.

His hand was so smooth, soft and cold like porcelain. But in yours his were warm.

You both intertwined your hands, and he squeezed your hand reassuring.

His other hand went straight up to your cheek giving it a comforting stroke. “Y/n, yes indeed it hurt that you kept it from me. But I’m sure you have a good reason for it. We can work it out together, you’re not alone anymore, neither am I.”

His eyes shifted down to where your hands intertwined, and he smiled softly. For the first time in his life, it seemed that someone cares about him.

And he’s genuine happy.

Sure, it still hurts, but you’re now with him.

And he’ll hold on you tight. Till the day you both fall into dust.

“My wings can heal. But I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t survive this. Michael is always against me finding joy, his hatred towards me was always so harsh.

And I’m scared Y/n.

As much I am happy that you’re with me, he has planned something to take you away from me. And I’m so terrified that you’ll die in my hands because of my recklessly act.

So, believe me when I say to you that you’re forgiven.” He pressed his forehead softly against yours, closing his eyes to feel the warmth from you. He wiped your tears away.

And the inner child in you broke.

Lucifer never seems to not surprise you.

Your crying filling the air, it was all the trauma that build up in you.

You can’t really explain why you’re letting all your emotions out.

Maybe it was his reassuring words that he’ll never leave you or that you trust him with your life.

Or it was his comforting Aura that soses your soul granting you inner peace.

He understands you.

You helped him not only Yesterday.

You saved him from the void that ate him slowly up. The void that consumed every last drop of happiness, he had.

He opened his eyes when your cries slowly calmed down.

He kissed the last tear that poured down your face and stroked your lips gentle.

You looked him in his eyes, and you felt home, comforted.

You where were you belong.

He pecked your lips, and you closed your eyes to let yourself fall into him.

Into this bliss.

He bit on your lips, and you gasped on the light pain.

He used the opportunity to slip his split tongue into your mouth.

You two started to make out heavily and he pulled you up to the table. Pushing the plates away from the two of you, so you have more space.

The hand on your cheek moved towards your neck as he presses you further in.

He tasted like a sweet caramel apple, and you wanted more.

You needed more.

You both played with your tongues just to get more of that addicting taste.

The alluring squeeze in your heart and the desire crept in.

It was all so overwhelming, but in a good way.

Lucifer spread your legs with his free hand. His body pressed between your thighs, stroking them softly.

He felt high.

High from the warmth of your body.

High from this feeling. From this desire that made him throb.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily. A saliva string connected the two of you.

Lucifer went down to push the oversized T-shirt away, “can I?”

You nod hesitant.

You never done this before, of course you didn’t.

You lived in heaven under your mother’s wings Sera. She wouldn’t allow you this kind of act before marriage.

The cold air hit your nipple making them harden from the coldness.

Lucifer stopped a second, observing your breast.

Intimidated by his stare you asked him what’s wrong.

“They’re just so gorgeous.” He moans at the end.

His hand travelled to one of your Tits massaging it. You moaned at the sudden sensation.

Lucifer licked and then started to suck on the other nipple. His eyes remained on you when your head fell back from the pleasure.

Who knew that this would feel so good, definitely not you.

His smile widened at your reaction. Lucifers eyes were lidded, and his eyes showed nothing but lust for you.

He stopped massaging your tit and went down to your covered clit giving it couple of strokes.

You gripped down at the table sheet, confused but also in the best feeling ever. You never knew your body was capable of this.

“Oh my-“ how Lucifer was circling his fingers on your clit made you insane.

His fingers sometimes entered your cunt, and you arched your back to get more of him.

Lucifer stopped sucking on your tit, you whined in protest.

He kissed a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach stopping at your pussy. He kissed it softly and still looked into your eyes.

“Look at me.” He pressed hard on your clit when you disobeyed him, earning a groan from you.

Opening your eyes, you looked down at Lucifer who was between your legs, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on them softly.

You felt hot.

Too hot.

You were sweating but in a good way, you never want this to end.

Lucifer was a sucker of your face right now.

He wants to take a picture from those hovered eyes filled with lust and your hard breathing state. Your hair fell on your face and the way you looked at him was alluring.

Ache.

“Please.” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for, you were a talking mess pleading Lucifer to continue.

With a small laugh he ripped your panties open.

All the sudden you felt insecure, you can’t explain why. You tried to close your legs, but Lucifer had other Ideas. He used his strength to spread your legs more open for him.

And hell, your body was beautiful.

The stretch marks on your body were so attractive to him.

Giving your cunt a quick peck before he went all face in. His forked tongue explored your pussy so good and deep.

Your hand flew to lucifers golden hair holding tight on it.

He ate you out so good, you were a moaning mess.

“Fuck-“ He treated you so good, way too good.

You gasp when he hit that spot. You almost screamed his name, “found it.” His forked tongue moved with elegant on your g-spot.

A knot starts to build in your lower area, and you began to panic.

But Lucifer didn’t stop.

Not with the way you looked at him.

His red eyes were burning deep in a scarlet like color. He can’t wait to see you break on his cock; he’ll probably fuck you dumb.

You were already a mess with his tongue deep down in your tasteful pussy.

He groans into it you, letting out a couple of curses.

You called out his name with a slight shiver, “Lu- ah- Stop.” You feel something will come, as if you’re about to pee. But Lucifer didn’t stop.

With a couple of strokes on your clit and him eating you out. You released with a loud moan with his name.

You came hard.

This pleasure you never felt before, and you were high from it. Your tight warm hole clenched around him, and he sucked all of your cum.

And God it was addicting.

After couple pf moments he stood up licking his finger, “You’re so delicious” he moaned when he licked your cum off of his finger.

He wants to fuck his dick deep inside you, but he decided against it.

It wasn’t rocketing science that you never done this before.

Hearing light snoring he looked surprised at your messed up figure. You laid there in all your grace tired out from your recent act. He laughed at you and started to clean you up.

…

Meanwhile in the Hotel a certain someone was making a mess.

Charlie looked nervous and surprised that her mother is standing in front of them with a deep frown.

“Mom?!”

A/n: I've never written smut before so I hope this was good-✋🏽💀

And what are your thoughts?❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #naughty lucifer #y/n #shapard

541 notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 4 months

Text

sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption.

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted!

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence.

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like.

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron.

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious.

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all.

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband.

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.”

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Are you close with Toji?”

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent.

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!”

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain.

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance.

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch.

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw.

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek.

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!”

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.”

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage.

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former.

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.”

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—”

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!”

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you?

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe.

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens.

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black.

See!

Open your eyes, and see!

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail.

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.

“He is not picking up!”

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now.

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.”

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you.

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji.

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth.

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name.

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked.

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon.

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come.

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond.

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.”

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away.

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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anoras-pokeshelter · 2 months

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Sorry I haven't posted in a while! Caramel needs lots of care, so I've been busy.

On the bright side, he gets along great with the other shelter residents! He especially likes Kevin and Whirly.

#pokemon #pokémon #mod anora #pokemon research #oc blog #original character #oc ask blog #pkmn irl #pokereality #kevin's tag #whirly's tag #the caramel arc

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seeingivy · 9 months

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sweet nothing

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: talks of grief, references to hidden inventory arc, satoru just being in love, megs + tsumiki babies

an: giving love to one of the best songs on midnights. also idk where I procured this emo at like 1 in the afternoon but here we are

You give him the book after the two of you settle Megumi and Tsumiki into bed, in the few minutes of peace you and Satoru get before you both nestle into your shared bed. You hike your knees to your chest as he picks it up, a confused look meeting yours when he reads the title.

“On Grief and Giving?”

“I took Miki and Megs to the bookstore today and I thought you might like it.”

“A book about grief? I’m not grieving.”

You look over at him - sparkling blue eyes rimmed with red, the usual sparkiness in his voice gone for the past few days, and no smothering, smushy cheek kisses every morning. You scoot over and he opens his arm up, tucking you into his side.

You whisper the words against his neck, your hands placed on his body, tracing out the lines of his biceps.

“He doesn’t have to be dead for you to be grieving him, Satoru. The person we knew is dead and the reaction is all the same.” you whisper.

Satoru frowns, his hand going back and forth on your lower back. You know he hates it, when you try to talk about it. When anyone does.

“Just read a few pages. See if it’s your thing or not, okay?”

He looks into your eyes for a few seconds before nodding, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. And when you leave to drop Tsumiki and Megumi off at school the next day, he reads the first page and promptly stops.

Grief stays the same size. Life begins to grow around it.

He thinks it’s stupid.

from y/n

you: don’t forget to bring strawberries home for froggy cake please!!

satoru: okay love. anything else?

you: that big fat ass

satoru: got it :D

you: you ruined it.

Tomorrow marks two years since Tsumiki and Megumi have been staying with you. And of course, in your ultimate corniness, you’ve convinced all three of them to make a cake with you. And because you can never say no to Tsumiki and Megumi’s suggestions, you’re making a strawberry froggy cake. Because Tsumiki wants to try to make a little frog with frosting and Megumi just wants to eat the strawberries off the cake.

He makes a mental note to drop by the store on the way home from his meeting with the higher ups and then his parents. Maybe buy some balloons or flowers or something to accompany the strawberries you asked for. He knows you said it was supposed to be a lowkey thing, just the four of you eating the cake together, but your annoyance doesn’t beat your surprised face, so he must.

Satoru stops by the coffee shop first, making it a clear point to be late to his meeting with the higher ups for a very stupid reason, and gets a sugary caramel latte. He can hear your voice in his mind - berating him for picking something so sweet - but persists anyway.

And as he leans against the counter, waiting for the cup with Satoru scribbled on the side, he takes in the shop, watching the people going around. He had never been too big on people watching, but it’s Tsumiki's favorite pass time at the park, pointing out people's silly outfits or how close and far they’re sitting away from each other.

He spots two little girls, making little beaded bracelets in the far corner while their moms both nurse a warm cup of coffee in their hands. They have their hands wrapped around the porcelain, like they’re sequestering the heat from the glass.

On the left, a young couple, nervously twiddling their fingers and cracking their knuckles as they make conversation - cheeks glazed pink and wobbly voices marking their conversation. They’re both dressed nicer than usual, clearly trying to impress each other.

And in the far corner, leaning against the chair, is Suguru Getou.

He nearly sprints to the other side of the shop when he sees him. Short hair, a man bun tucked neatly at the back with weirdly misshapen bangs and brown eyes. He can feel his heart racing, pounding even and the perspiration growing on his clenched fists as he moves closer.

And when he reaches their table, standing way too close and looking straight into his eyes, he realizes that this is not Suguru Getou. Instead, a kid that bears far too much resemblance to him. But his eyes are rounder, his nose isn’t as pointy, and he is not a murderer.

Satoru takes off and runs straight out the store, forgetting about his cup of coffee that’s getting cold in the pickup area.

Yaga and the higher-ups' voices drone out in the back, as Satoru wracks his head.

Why did he think that kid was Suguru? Suguru is dead.

And it only now occurs to him, that for all intents and purposes, he really does think he’s dead. But he knows he isn't because Satoru let him walk free. Because he had to clench his fists and swallow hard to walk away the last time he saw him.

But the man he knows is dead. Your voice is echoing in his head.

“Satoru, are you paying attention?”

“I mean, not really.”

They all pinch their noses and groan, starting the lecture he’s sure they were giving him all over again. And it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before.

We want you to take more missions, there aren’t that many special grade sorcerers available. We want you to spend more time teaching, you're not doing enough. A long list of we want, we want, we want.

And when the higher-ups trail out of the meeting, disdainful looks on their faces, he turns back to Yaga, who frowns at him. The question is on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to ask it.

Do you ever think you ask too much of me?

He understands. He tries to. That he is the strongest sorcerer, that there’s no one like him. That he may have infinity, but he knows they forget the inner parts of him aren’t untouchable. That he’s still a person, that he’s still soft.

Tsumiki’s shiny report cards make him beam with joy, fighting with Megumi keeps him up at night, and getting to hold you at night is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes.

That sometimes the smell of blood never leaves his nose no matter how hard he scrubs in the shower, that when he sees a boy who looks like Suguru, the wound he thought he patched over feels like it’s freshly bleeding.

But that doesn’t matter, because…

“You should be taking more missions. People are getting spread really thin.” Yaga says, clearing the dust off his desk.

…Because he’s the strongest.

As he drags his feet to the Gojo estate, he can’t help but survey the crowd as he walks there. Three girls with the same hair color as Getou, two boys with the same eye color, five people the exact same height, but none of them are Suguru Getou.

When he reaches his parents house, pulling out the long black chairs he uncomfortably sat in for hours as a kid, his mind wanders even farther when they start talking.

This time, he’s imagining. Daydreaming. What it would be like if he wasn’t the one gifted with the limitless and infinity. If jujutsu sorcery didn’t exist.

That he’d have more time, be more free to do what he wanted. Make chocolate pancakes with you every morning, before the two of you walk together to drop off Megumi and Tsumiki to school. You’d work normal jobs - maybe he’d still be a teacher, a normal one - while you would do something that was entirely too impressive. Like saving lives or writing books or working at a non-profit.

You would both go to Tsumiki’s first school dance together and take so many pictures that she’d walk away all embarrassed, red in the face. He’d go to every single one of Megumi’s baseball games, you’d both be the parents that are way too decked out, way too enthusiastic about their kid.

Satoru would help you collect vinyls and when Tsumiki and Megumi were long gone and the two of you would put them on and dance in the kitchen humming. You’ll get wrinkles at the same time and your hair would gray so the two of you would look like pale-haired ghosts together.

He zones back into what his parents were saying, their bored eyes glazed on him. And he doesn’t pay attention, because it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before.

They want him to be around more, because he should know how to take over the estate. They want him to meet with other clans, so he can help them with other deals. A long list of they want, they want, they want.

And he walks out, he wonders if his parents want the life he imagined for himself, the way he wants it for Megumi and Tsumiki. If that was the life Suguru would have lived, if things were different.

When he makes it home, the sun is sinking into the sky against the house, the sky an array of golden hues. And when he pushes his key into the lock, he’s met with one smiling face and two grumpy faces.

You march over, flicking Satoru’s cheek as he moves closer to you, grabbing onto your hands.

“Those strawberries better be hidden in your pants or something.”

He feels his face pale as he remembers that in the loop of things he’s been thinking about all day, he forgot to get the strawberries for froggy cake. And the balloons and flowers and everything else he wanted to give the three of you.

“Satoru. We really wanted strawberry froggy cake.” you whine, reaching up to rest your hands on his face, squishing hard.

He reaches for your wrists, pulling them down from his face and looking down at your joined hands.

“Oh well, I’ll just go grab them with Megumi or something.”

He watches you pad back into the kitchen, not even phased by his shortcoming, as you place a hand in Tsumiki’s hair. She’s very focused on frosting her little frog in the center of the cake, her eyebrows knit in concentration. He makes his way in, leaning over the counter as he intently watches the three of you.

“What if we all go to the store and pick up strawberries?” you say, a hand resting in Megumi’s hair.

Megumi directs off of you and to Satoru, glaring at him.

“Did you seriously forget the one thing we wanted you to get?”

“Megs, don’t be mean. It’s always fun to go to the store together!” you respond.

“I’ll let you pick out anything you want, kid.” Satoru mentions.

Megumi gives him a satisfied smile, hopping off his seat to go yank his shoes on. Tsumiki follows suit and you give Satoru a glowing smile as you drag the three of them out, hands intertwined as you go to the store.

And at the end of the day, in the few minutes of peace the two of you get before the next day, Satoru’s staring at you, memorizing the curve of your nose and the shape of your eyes, and the way your hair falls against your face.

You bring a hand up, cupping the side of his face as you whisper in the dark.

“You okay, Toru?”

“What do you want from me?”

He watches you frown and pull back, your hand shaking against his face.

“Are you mad at me, Satoru?”

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, bringing you back closer. He’s resting his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth that gathers in the back of your neck on his hands.

“No. No, no. I just…I want to know what you want from me.”

He watches you scrunch your forehead, as you ponder the question.

“I mean. I’d really like it if you didn’t leave the toilet seat up all the time.”

He cracks a smile, rolling his eyes at you, as he reaches for your hand to bring your knuckles up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss, noticing the sweet smile that spreads across your face when he does, and drops your hand.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.”

“I mean. I’m not sure what you mean. It’s just small things, Toru. Like we should go on walks together sometimes in the evening, I think that would be nice. And we should watch all the Harry Potter movies together, like do a marathon and not sleep in between. And I’d really like a big diamond ring, circular cut, six pronged with a golden band.”

Your hands, still resting against his face, are now meshed in with a spray of salty tears and a whimpering Satoru. You instinctively bring him forward, tucking his neck into your face as he cries into your shoulders.

His tears are coating your neck as you run your hand through the white tresses of hair, whispering against his forehead. Imploring for what’s wrong. He doesn’t respond and the tears subside after a few minutes, his frame still shaking in your hold.

“I’m not that attached to a golden wedding band, Satoru. I can do silver.”

He laughs, pulling his face away from your neck to run his hands through your hair.

“Gold is okay. I like gold.”

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Tell me.”

“Nothing. I just- that’s really all you want from me?”

“I mean, yeah. What else would I want?”

Satoru leans forward, pressing his lips against yours as he nearly cries into your face again, hanging off the ends of your lips. And you’re not sure what it means, what any of it means, but you let him - cry into your arms, hold you through the night, and make you breakfast the next morning.

In truth, Satoru cherishes the fact that everyone may ask the world of him, but all you’ve ever wanted from him are sweet, sweet nothings.

When you wake up the next morning, padding into the kitchen to make breakfast, you’re met with a box of strawberries, a sticky-note pressed on top. I love you, written in Satoru’s scribbly handwriting.

Life has grown around Satoru’s grief. And it looks like you.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

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