#Adultery-Investigations

[rickypowell23]

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[privateeyesusa]

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[mackyoutlaw]

Top Private Investigator  services in Huntsville  |  Macky Outlaw

Looking for reliable and discreet Private Investigator services in Huntsville? Our team of experienced investigators can help you with a wide range of investigative needs, including surveillance, background checks, missing person cases, and more. With a focus on professionalism and discretion, we provide accurate and timely results to help you make informed decisions. Contact us at 866-910-7499 today to learn more about how we can assist you.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) "Curse Of The Monkey King"

Long time Ago In the lovely Neighorhood, Saphira had Been Married To a Husband Name "Daniel Jamerson Rooster" for Three years but Alas, Her Marriage was Nothing but a Huge sham until She came Home from Shopping and Found him making Love with another woman. Saphira's Face is all In rage and began to Yelled at him and said,

Saphira: "Daniel… Jamerson.. Rooster! What in the Name Of Smiling devil do you think your Doing and Who is she!?"

She asked Pointed at the other woman Who is been on topped by Daniel, Then Daniel Stutter and said,

Daniel: " S-s-s-saphira it's Not what it looks like! She means nothing to me I swear! I promise I'll Stop Cheating ok!?"

Saphira: "Ugh! How many Chances Do you want me to give!? I gave you Three Chances Daniel, THREE! How Many Women You've been Sleeping this whole time in Three Years of our marriage!?"

Daniel: " Ok ok! I confess, I slept with 68 Women behind your back and all of them are The neighbors Wives"

Saph: "I knew it! I Knew Something Is going on here, You see I Hired my Private Investigators To Follow you and see how many women you've been Sleeping with and screwing around with Our Neighbors Wives! Ugh! Your a Fucking Pig Daniel!"

Daniel: "Please saphira, Please I've beg of you! I don't want my Father to find out about this!"

Daniel begged and Begged For Saphira's Mercy but She was Having none of it and she said,

Saphira: "Thats Enough Daniel! How Could you?! For Three years I've been Nothing but a Good Woman of your life and Now You threw it away with some 68 Hussies and I gave you too many chances, Thats it! We are getting a Divorce! I will not Marry to a Man who is Cheating on me with 68 Other Women! So! I want you and that hussy OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

When She said that, Daniel Cried and begged But Saphira Is Having None of it, She Threw him and His Mistress out. She Sign the Divorce papers and Made Daniel Sign it With His Father who is Now knew what His Idiot Son has Done. Then Saphira Sued 68 of Neighbors wives For alimony along with Daniel who is also Going to pay Alimony To Saphira For Infidelity, After All That Saphira Decided to Moved Out From the Neighborhood of Adultery into a Big Nice Luxurious and Very Spacious Manor on the Hill in a Decent Neighborhood. Its been nine Months Since The Divorce, Her Friends was Worried about her and They Try to Persuaded Saphira to Find Someone Better than Her Ex-husband, So saphira Decided to try a blind date.. Sadly it never go So well after 40 failing dates and rejections.. after the 41st failed Blind date, She'd watched The Movie called "Journey to the west" until she has eyes On Sun wukong aka the Monkey king, But then there was Saphira's Classmate who is Now watching her through the window. And His name is (Your Muse name here) And He knew Saphira Since College and already heard that She Divorced Daniel, he knew his Plan is Fullfilled because He's the one Who Brought the Evidence to the Private investigator as well.. But Now He Notice that Saphira has eyes on sun wukong, Her heart is beating when she sees The Monkey King Fought demons So brave.. Then She sighs In Love looking at the Monkey king, Thinking that he is So handsome, So brave, Confident, Charming, Fierce, and Most of All He has a Pure heart and a sharp mind. Saphira Smiles as her eyes turns into heartshape and she said," If Only he was so Real~ He would Swept My off of my Feet and Take Me to His kingdom and Let me Be His Beloved Queen." She Sighs in Love And then She has the Idea and said," You know what? I decided to make a grand Oriental Ball!" She gasp excitedly When she knows what to do, So She decided to Invited To Everyone in a Good Decent neighborhood with a Golden invitation Including Saphira's Good Classmate of hers and the Invitation was told that The Grand oriental Ball is Coming within full moon which is Tomorrow night, So (Your Muse name here) Began to head home and try to Find something in the attic but Nothing is there until Next Night, her Spacious Manor is Decorated with Chinese and Japanese Decorations and the Food is Exotic and wonderful..

Saphira who is Now wearing Her Royal Dress and Sees Others Dressing up In Kimonos and ghis and Some Dressed up as Mythical Character and all. Meanwhile (Your muse name here) Found something Amazing, He Opens the Chinese Closet and saw The armor of the great Sage Equal to heaven and His trusty Staff called "Jingu bang", He Found out that His Grandfather gave Him that gift and was told that it Belongs to the Monkey king himself.. Then he Found the Scroll of the monkey king, He Opens the Scroll and began to read the Story Of How the Monkey king was Sealed away By a Jealous God Name "Sun Hai" The Brother of The jade emperor Who is a Tyrant and went mad with power but he was Jealous of Monkey Kings ambition and so he began to Curse and Seal Him up with an enchanted Scroll and Any Reader who read this Scroll Shall be Cursed and the Monkey King Will Take Over Someones Body Until The great Sage Gets True loves Kiss To make him Permanent Forever But the Only Thing The Monkey king transform the reader into Himself.. Is by the golden Moon, Meanwhile Saphira announce that the grand ball begin as She Opens the Cage where Her pet Golden Dragon name Shen long began to Fly To the Moon and landed it, and turning the Moon into Gold and then (Your muse name here) Began to transform into the monkey King himself, it turns from screaming into laughing. He is back and then He Notice the Golden Invitation To the ball as he made a smirk, Meanwhile Saphira Was sitting on the throne While Her 2 Jade Tiger Sitting side by side next to her watching them Dancing gracefully at the ball Until Everyone gasp and made a Path and there Saphira saw was none other than The Monkey king, Her eyes is Widen and then The Monkey king said….

[ssahotchnerr]

speculation - aaron hotchner x reader

aaron confides in you his suspicions haley is cheating on him.

cw: bau!reader, takes place in s3 timeline - before the divorce, angst, mentions of adultery and unfaithfulness, aaron's sad but not really showing it (naturally), light foreshadowing that someday aaron and reader get together <3 wc; 1.2k

aaron's hands gripped the steering wheel and his stare was pointed forward, the atmosphere heavy in the car. grey clouds had been rolling in all morning, and now the rain was just beginning to fall, a light sprinkle pattering on the windshield.

the two of you had just frequented a crime scene, departing after a rather tense situation - one of the investigators had nearly disrupted the crime scene in a lazy wake, and aaron had thoroughly allowed him to know his mistake.

while aaron was always stern, it was... different this time.

"hotch?"

at his name, you managed to pull him from of his thoughts - you could tell by the way his jaw moved, his grip on the wheel ever so lightly loosening.

aaron didn't respond though; figuring he wasn't too keen on sharing whatever was on his mind, you put your focus out the window, watching the rain begin to slowly collect on the road.

"haley's cheating."

your head turned towards him in an instant, a sickening dread beginning to pool in your stomach at the blunt confession. "what?"

"haley's cheating on me." he fought against the brokenness that dared to ache in his voice, remaining solid and firm in his words. he released a breath, as if saying it out loud made it real; the final confirmation he needed himself. "i may just be paranoid, creating something out of nothing. but things have been... strange."

"oh." your shoulders slumped, the back of your head hitting your headrest.

"strange enough it's been noticeable."

"what's been going on?"

"weird phone calls." he bit his lip as he gazed off to the side, as if he were recalling an instance internally, his hold tightening once again. "she's been more distant. uninterested. sometimes, when she comes home, she won't look me in the eye."

ouch. "i'm sorry."

it was rather surprising, in an odd way. to the naked eye, aaron was someone who was well put together; phenomenal at his job, a clear key-in for potential director of the bureau someday. from an outsider perspective, one could infer he lived a perfect life, and therefore had the perfect family to go along with it.

if he wasn't confiding in you, that's what you would've thought.

aaron didn't talk about his personal life - that's one thing you quickly learned upon your addition to the team, a month or two ago. you could recall what penelope had for breakfast, what books spencer had read in a day, what color underwear morgan had currently on.

anything about aaron, nothing.

whether it was because he was your boss, or because he wasn't an openly expressive person, you always went back to the guilty thought - has anyone at least ever asked?

while you all went out for drinks after a long day, aaron never usually attended. but he had a family at home, of course he would go home to them - that's where his priorities laid.

the constant secrecy surrounding him was the reason you've been so intrigued by him since day one - spending so much time with someone you knew nothing about.

and if you learned anything now, he wasn't going home to the home you had previously thought. it was barely a home, he was more so a guest. you were slowly beginning to understand more why he rarely smiled.

aaron hotchner was just as human as anyone else.

even now, he wasn’t showing much emotion. it was evident he was extremely hurt, and had all the emotions one could imagine. but would he distinctly let that on, letting his vulnerability show - no.

aaron opened his mouth to respond, slight hesitation before he spoke. he began to deflect, "but i could just-"

"no. listen to your intuition." you interrupted softly, grounded. "like you said, if you're taking notice, something's going on."

he nodded in agreement, the motion of his head strained. he did force out a chuckle, a terribly sad laugh. "part of me doesn't blame her-"

"don't say that. she's your wife."

"exactly." aaron sighed out, eyeing the wedding ring on his left hand. "there's something i could've done to prevent this. to keep her interested. to solidify i'm still here for her despite the long hours and schedule. instead i'm the husband and father who's never home. and it's difficult to be the husband i want with the possible betrayal."

"she's your wife." you repeated, solemnly. "so she should know you. you're the husband and father who stops at nothing to catch the criminals who walk amongst us. you're this job, and asking for understanding on that isn't wrong. regardless of what you say you're doing wrong, or have done wrong, it doesn't give haley the excuse to... do this."

you didn't want to say cheat. not for his sake - the depth of the word felt harsh and prominent in your chest.

"i appreciate you saying that." his eyes met yours briefly, the tone of his voice genuine. "but i messed up. i guess what they say about getting needs met elsewhere is true."

you quieted.

aaron also added after a moment, in an exasperated near-whisper. "and besides... i don't think she's known me in a while."

silence filled the car once more, and you let out an exhale. you felt for him, and his marriage. you couldn't imagine what it felt like, or how he felt: the person who you thought was your forever slipping through your fingers - like trying to catch smoke. it was there, you just couldn't grasp it.

you hoped you weren't overstepping boundaries with your next question. "does she know..."

"that i know?" aaron asked, and you nodded. he kept his stare forward, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "i believe so, yeah."

you waited for him to speak again, while he was confiding in you, you didn't want to pry - none of really this was your business. you at least hoped it was clear you were offering support within the silence.

and you must've, because he continued. "i feel sick to my stomach it could be happening in my house. in my bed. with our son in the next room over." he shook his head angrily with the last sentence, in disbelief as he clicked the windshield wipers on, the rain falling more heavily now. "i lie awake at night when we're gone, just thinking what's going on at the moment."

"i wouldn't do that." you offered quietly, although you knew that advice was nearly impossible to follow. "you will make yourself sick."

aaron vaguely shook his head again, defeated. "i don't know what else to do."

you weren't sure what to say, or exactly why he was telling you all this. again, you didn't know him well. and not only, in a way, he terrified you, in more ways than one. the only way you could describe it - when he looked at you, he really looked at you. you were terrified of what he could make you realize about yourself.

"so, what are you going to do?"

"i don't know."

[jiminjamms]

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

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 6

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring private investigator!Tim Rockford)

Word count: 3,761

Summary: You and Dave reconcile, but a heavy confession brings you to realize just how similar you are. And when an unfamiliar name slips off an innocent tongue, a professional is called in to get the truth.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Angst. Idiots in love but they're too blind to see it or are really good at ignoring it. Mentions of eating and drinking alcohol. Masturbation (m) while watching porn. Marital strife. Accusations of adultery. A certain broad-shouldered detective comes in to find out what's really going on. Reader has hair long enough to blow in the wind & wears a dress and makeup. No use of y/n. (anything I've forgotten please LMK)

Author's note: (at the end)

Series Masterlist

Your employees are gathered around you as you display your next creation, the dessert of the month at Fiction & Frosting.

"This is the perfect Mille-Feuille," you show them. "Puff pastry, cream, fresh strawberries.."

You tear your glance away from the glossy page in the cookbook and force yourself to gaze upon your own creation: the puff pastry is wilted, the icing is melted, and no amount of fresh fruit decoration can save it.

"So why doesn't mine look like that?" you pose the frustrated question to yourself.

Suggestions are made, recipe changes offered, and you listen to each one, still amazed at how you haven't mastered such a simple dessert. You don't even want to think about the macarons you had to dump out after they burned. ("Shit. They're utter shit," you murmured as you tossed them in the bin.)

With the bakery open everyone moves to their assigned spots and you're free to stay in the kitchen in the back, pondering why you're making so many mistakes. There's no doubt about it, you're not in your right mind. You haven't been okay since the night Dave kissed you.

A sharp twist of wistfulness lodges itself into your heart when you pull out your phone to see he hasn't texted or called. Two weeks of no contact. Then again, you haven't really reached out to him either, afraid of his icy demeanor.

When he'd finally come by to pick up his car, you weren't home. You'd hoped for at least a glimpse of him, but he probably timed it so that he wouldn't have to see you. You can't help feeling pity for yourself for that.

With a sigh you take a bite of the awful mille-feuille. It isn't that bad, just not very presentable, probably because you weren't paying attention. You were never this scatterbrained in your work when Javier was being his idiotic self, so why is this married man taking up so much space in your brain?

"Friendly? Is that what you want me to be? Just friendly?"

His words ring in your ears, a taunting tune. What if you'd said no? What if you'd given in to your true feelings and slept with him that night? Would you be swimming in guilty feelings now instead of wondering What If?

Could you just push aside your doubt and reach out to him? Even if it's just to selfishly calm the torment of being away from him?

Girl, you're talking like you're in love with him.

You push the thought away, not ready to peek inside that particular Pandora's Box. Avoidance is easy for you, you've perfected the art of looking the other way when Javier fucked every woman in sight.

You check your phone again, but the only recent text you have is from your sister, who's trying to talk you into doing a pastry course in Paris, part of her school's program that's doing an art course there as well over the summer.

Years ago you would have jumped at the chance, despite what Javier would do to get you to stay. But now you feel you have nothing to keep you here, even if it is only for two months. You've told her maybe for the time being. You still have a few weeks to decide.

Scrolling back to your texts with Dave, you feel a loneliness there that cuts deeper than your split with Javier. Led by your desire to do what's right, what you want more than anything is to renew your friendship with Dave.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, you shut your mind off and let your body take over as you mill about the kitchen, gathering bowls and utensils, turning on the oven and pouring ingredients.

Across the street, Dave's in a meeting with a potential client. Another scorned woman, another broken heart. Unlike with you, he feels a detachment from her. He's here for business, and he's damn good at what he does.

The new client, a young woman who's giving him lascivious looks from beneath her false lashes, is giving him obvious signals. She's leaning forward to show off her generous cleavage, and he should earn an Academy Award for pretending that he doesn't feel the slide of her silk stocking-ed foot under the hem of his pants, against his shin. She must sense his disinterest because she takes it up several notches when she places her palm on his upper thigh, practically begging for it.

He refers her to another lawyer, politely passing her off to his lucky cohort before going back to his office to reassess.

If he was younger and still in this same predicament with Carol, he wouldn't have given her blatant come-ons a second thought. But it's not his wife who keeps him from forsaking his marriage vows. It's you.

Sighing, he puts his hands in his pockets and goes to the window, seeing your bakery/bookstore across the way. He imagines you scurrying about, a dusting of flour on your face as you roll a rolling pin across a lump of dough, and straightening the shelves to showcase a new book coming out. He hopes you're not thinking of him, then he kills that hope and tells himself he wants you to think of him the way he's thinking of you.

He pushes down any second guesses about the situation you're both in, and puts on his jacket as he leaves the office, heading straight for your building.

You wrap your green sweater around you as you make your way on the crosswalk connecting your side of the street in his. An olive branch in the form of a cake in a mint green pastry box is in your hands. Your heart races as you wonder if he'll even see you after all that's happened, but those worries drop down and die when you spot him in the crowd walking towards you. There's a twinkle in his eyes as he spots you, and he smiles.

He's on his way to your place, to say hello and see if you're willing to talk to him. He wants to set things right, and the moment he lays eyes on you in that white floral dress and green sweater, your hair held back in matching ribbon, his heart (and his dick, if he's honest) react in a very positive way.

Both of you meet in the middle, the crowd rushing around you on either side, but neither of you take any notice of them. Time stops for a brilliant, beautiful moment.

"I was on my way to you," he says.

"I was bringing this to you," you tell him. "To say sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. Really, I'm to blame."

"A lawyer accepting blame? Won't you get disbarred for that?" you joke.

He laughs at that, and the sound of it sets your heart alight. "So that's for me?"

"Yeah.. black forest cake. I remember you told me it's your favorite."

Maybe it's the way the breeze gently lifts the ends of your hair, or the luscious curve of your cherry lips, but he will think of this moment, this small act of kindness, for the rest of his days.

The crosswalk is empty and the light's about to change. And the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "I think Carol's cheating on me."

You quickly bring him back to the cafe where you pour him a cup of strong black coffee with a splash of amaretto added from your stash in your office.

He spills his guts to you: Carol's leaving at random times, more often at night to go to "work". He wonders how often a hospital director is needed overnight. He's called, on a whim, just to see if she's really there, but is always given the "she's here but she's unavailable" runaround.

You ask if she gets dressed up for these late night work shifts, if she wears perfume and makeup. (Yes to all.)

Does she shower right after coming home? Has she shown less interest in having sex? (That question really hurts to ask, but you can't help a little selfish joy when he answers that they haven't been intimate in a long time.)

"Maybe she's spending time doing something else," you tell him, your cake untouched on both your plates in front of you. "Maybe she wants time away from you and the kids and is too afraid to say it."

"That sounds like her. She's always put her job first," Dave says glumly.

You hate seeing the dispirited look on his handsome face. "You should talk to her about it. Come on, use some of those lawyering skills you're so famous for," you smirk.

"It's like talking to a brick wall," he quips, leaning forward to enjoy his cake. "I'm actually sorry I even brought it up."

"Don't be. If it's important to you, it's important to me." You pause. "Can I admit to doing something stupid?"

"Are you asking for confidentiality priveleges? Because that only counts if I'm still representing you," he smirks.

"Ha ha," you roll your eyes. "The night you left my place.. I ended up going to Javier's."

"Oh." He puts his fork down, jealousy nibbling away at his rational thought. "Did you..?"

"Yeah," you nod, lips pursed. "I got what I needed, but it wasn't really the same anymore, you know? I didn't feel anything for him."

You lighten the mood by telling him about poor Cindy, the way karma had played the Uno reverse card on her.

A little smile curls the corners of Dave's mouth. "I could write a book on how much I hate that guy."

It's a good feeling to spill to him the secrets of your soul. But what you refrain from telling, the one thing that could turn around and bite you, is that while you were in Javier's bed you were thinking of Dave.

Carol has been gone for a couple hours, the aroma of her perfume still lingering in the air of their en suite bathroom as Dave brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed.

Laying there alone, as he's used to by now, his thoughts drift to you. His heart is full now that you've reconciled, and even though he has a feeling there's always going to be complicated feelings, he takes the risk because you're worth it.

Your smile, the light in your eyes when you laugh, how your fingers always find a way to brush against his or your hand rests on his arm. The way you kissed him back that one night is burned into his brain. The taste of your mouth has become his new favorite flavor, at least until he can taste another part of you-

Stop it.

With a deep sigh he takes his phone from the nightstand and does a quick search. Not his first rodeo, what he's seeking is already colored purple as he's accessed it many times. When the porn site pulls up it offers every scenario anyone could possibly want, but he has something very specific in mind.

He searches by your features, looking for an actress similar to you, trying to avoid the guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. What would you think of him if you knew? But he's already getting search results, salivating over the thumbnails of women who bear a passing resemblance to you in various positions, scantily clad or even just naked.

Selecting one, his heart pounds in a drumlike fashion as he waits for it to load, the site's short theme song filling him with anticipation, his dick already raging hard. Getting lost in the unlikely scenario between the two actors, he strokes himself, pajama pants pulled down over his thighs. He turns the volume down as low as possible, the moans and sighs barely audible. But after awhile he doesn't even need the video. Just the memory of you is enough, and better than any video.

And then, as if she has a sixth sense for when her husband is trying to meet his needs, Carol comes in and he quickly puts his phone away and stops what he's doing.

"Were you watching smut again?" she sighs in exasperation.

Dave flushes with embarrassment, but he's not going to lie about it. "Yeah, I was," he shrugs, pulling his pants up. Carol just shakes her head and goes straight into the shower, another tally mark in Dave's mental stack of evidence against her.

She comes out later, freshly scrubbed, wearing her usual nighgown and applies some cream to her elbows, facing away from her husband. "If you're going to watch anything crazy just put your earbuds in, okay?" With a heavy sigh she gets into bed next to him and lays on her side, her back to him.

He doesn't even give her the satisfaction of answering. As if he could even get hard in this moment. He lays awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, wishing himself anywhere but here.

Carol's voice, unusually soft, finds him in the dark. "I think you're having an affair," she accuses.

His heart jumps in his chest. Is there something she knows? Has he been careless? Has she had him followed and been seen with you? He sits up. "An affair? Are you serious? Why would you think that?"

She sits up too, ready to accuse him further. "We haven't had sex in weeks. You're always too tired."

He has no defense for that, but it's not as if things are entirely his fault. "I've just been busy. And tired," he adds. "Besides, your'e the one always running off to work at strange hours."

She huffs. "Are you really going to use my job as an excuse? You're never in the mood.. do you not find me attractive anymore?"

"Of course I do.. you're still the same gorgeous woman I married."

"Then kiss me. Right now."

He's taken aback by the sudden command, surprised by the directness of it. "What?"

Carol lays back down. "The man I married wouldn't hesitate like that."

A pang of guilt flares in Dave's chest. She's right, but as her accusations have gone no further he rests in the meanwhile safety. "I'm just tired," he mumbles, head falling onto his pillow, his back to her and her back to him.

"So am I," she answers, a cold finality in her tone.

The next evening while Carol's out of town for a conference. When he's called into the office on an emergency case, he asks if you're free to keep an eye on the girls. With nothing else to do, you happily accept, and spend the day baking chocolate chip cookies and watching their favorite movies.

By the time Dave comes home in the late evening, the three of you are watching the classic version of Cinderella. He smiles at the domestic little sight, heart warming at the brief fantasy that this could be what he comes home to every night.

As the girls fall asleep between you, Cinderella meets her handsome prince at the ball. "So This Is Love" plays while the fated lovers dance. Your hand and his find their way across, gently clasping.

And just like Cinderella, it's almost midnight and you have to go. But not before cleaning up, even though Dave insists he's fine to do it on his own.

From her bedroom, Alice calls out for her daddy, and you both go up to see what's the matter.

"I want a glass of water," she mumbles. Dave smiles at her groggy little voice and goes to fetch her a cup. While he's gone you sit on the edge of her bed and she shows you her stuffed animal collection, her favorite one is a purple unicorn named Mr. Fluffy.

"Where's Mommy?" she asks when her dad comes back with a cup of water for her.

He ruffles her hair. "She's just working late tonight, kiddo. She'll be home soon."

"Is she with Uncle Joel?"

Dave's heart drops but he covers his surprise just in time. "What do you mean, baby? Who's Uncle Joel?" Carol's an only child. The girls don't have any uncles on her side.

"He's Mommy's friend who comes to fix the pipes," she says, chugging her water before getting back under the covers.

He forces a smile, sitting between you and her on the bed. "Does Uncle Joel come over a lot?" he asks innocently.

"He comes when you're not here. Mommy tells him you can't fix them, Daddy. Only Joel can."

A thousand thoughts swarm his head but he's used to keeping his cool in unexpected situations. "What happens when he comes over, sweetie?" His voice is still calm and even, belying the fear constricting his gut.

"He talks to Mommy in private. She giggles a lot."

The dots are connecting and not in a good way. A man in my house, the house I bought because Carol liked it so much, shaking the mud off his boots like it's no big deal before doing god-knows-what with my wife.. His blood runs cold as he wears his facade once more. "Okay, sweetie, why don't you get some sleep. I'll make some cinnamon waffles for breakfast tomorrow."

Alice nods excitedly, then looks at you. "Will you eat breakfast with us tomorrow?"

Shaken by what she's revealed so far you do your best to give an answer. "Uh, we'll see, honey. Maybe." Your smile is strained but she doesn't seem to notice.

Leaving the bedroom door open just a crack he walks down the hall, running his hand over his face.

"Kids," you force some light-heartedness into your words. "They have such big imaginations, you know?"

He doesn't answer you, his back turned to you as he hides his face in his hands.

"Are you okay, Dave?" you place a tentative touch on his shoulder.

Finally he turns to you, face reddened with an anger he never thought he'd have to feel. "My youngest daughter just told me that my wife has been having another man over to the house behind my back. Alice is a bright girl but she wouldn't invent a story like that."

"Hold on," you tell him gently, your hands on his biceps, willing him to loosen up, even just physically. "You don't know anything for certain. Just hearsay. Right, Mr. Big Shot Attorney?"

Your attempt at humor only gets you a bitter laugh from him.

"Is it possible Carol's just friends.. with a plumber?" you speculate. But of course you don't believe it either.

Dave narrows his eyes at you for a moment before realizing nothing about this is your fault and you're just trying to help. The moment that you step into his arms they immediately close around you. He marvels at how you fit together so perfectly.

"You should talk to her when she comes home," you suggest, not moving an inch from his embrace. The last thing you want to do is give him marriage advice when it's a real possibility that his wife could be unfaithful.

"Somehow I doubt she'll be amenable to an honest discourse on her fidelity," he grumbles, not wanting to think about her, shutting the bad feelings away while you're in his arms.

You inhale the scent of him, the warm spice of his lingering aftershave. The spark between you only intensifies. You're tempted to press your lips to his strong, soft neck, you can already imagine his pulse point racing beneath your lips.

When he pulls away it snaps you out of your fantasy, and you are acutely aware of the heat blooming between your legs, the slick pooling in your panties.

"How about a private investigator?" you ask.

He shakes his head as if he's already thought of it. "The only ones I know are in a professional regard. I don't want it bandied about that I've had to resort to surveilling my own wife."

"In that case it's your lucky day. I know a guy."

After emailing the pertinent information to your contact, he's at Dave's address within half an hour.

Clad in a classic tan trenchoat, white button down with hastily done striped tie and black trousers, Tim Rockford looks every bit what Dave had expected. The former detective sizes up his prospective client from behind thick black eyeglass frames before turning to you with a soft smile. Tim often does background checks for your employees, and you trust him with an even more personal task like this.

"Are you David York?" the man asks, a to-go cup of coffee that's going cold very fast is in one hand and his briefcase in the other.

"Yeah, I am," Dave answers. "Come on in."

The three of you settle in the living room. "Now, tell me about why you want me to surveil your spouse," he says, getting down to brass tacks.

Seated next to you, Dave explains his situation, the late nights that Carol's had to go in, the mention of "Uncle Joel" by his daughter. He leaves out the part about him spending much of his time with you possibly contributing to the lack of affection in his marriage, and you keep quiet as well.

Soon Tim has all the information he needs to move forward. He has Carol's work address, and will do some digging on the Joel fellow. "It'll take a couple weeks to get some basic information, given they're still meeting each other. I advise you not to start any arguments or accuse her of anything in the meantime or it'll risk ruining the investigation. If she catches wind that you're onto her, she may change her plans or even call it off with him altogether. For the time being, just play dumb."

Dave nods, even though he doesn't like it.

"There is a fee, of course," Tim adds. He writes the number on a scrap of paper and Dave, sighing, accepts.

"He was on the force for over a dozen years," you tell him. "It'll be money well spent. Even if there's nothing going on."

"Whatever is going on, I'll debrief you at our next meeting once I've collected the proper evidence," Tim says.

It's a plan set in motion, and Dave isn't really sure what he wants the outcome to be. If Carol's fucking around, he gets his heart broken. If she's not, it's even worse. Because now he knows he'd leave her for you.

A/n: So yeah, two more Pedro boys in the mix.. yes it is that Joel 👀One of y'all needs to come get your man because he's filling holes that aren't his 🫢And Tim! I've been waiting to bring him to the story ❤️

dividers by @strangergraphics and @saradika-graphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647 @milla-frenchy

@everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love @ppascalq

[icedmintteastuff]

husband!wriothesley hcs

happy new year!! just making a husband!wriothesley for the new year, sorry for the wrong grammar :/ enjoy!!

warning: wrong grammar, ooc, slightly suggestive at the end.

you work at the court of fontaine, you are in charge in gathering information in investigation. you met wriothesley when clorinde mentioned you to him when they were investigating a case. you always claimed that the information came from the offender itself in every 'gossip' you tell her.

wriothesley then asked clorinde to invite you to the fortress for some tea, he knew the you work at the court of fontaine but he has never met you personally, even when he gets summoned for official matters.

the day of your visit came by he rizzed you with his tea asked for the information about the suspect(s) they're investigating. he found you funny and interesting whenever you're giving them information, since you're doing it like you're giving them the latest gossip that is going around, except you have the knowledge before the steambird did.

this routine kept going on with clorinde accompanying you to the fortress, clorinde noticed the way wriothesley looks at you as the time progresses, she then became overprotective of you space and privacy since the duke was getting a little bit too close to you.

clorinde then lowered her guard when you told her you developed feelings for the duke, she would help wriothesley every now and then in courting you, which he appreciates. he proposed to you on the same day you guys first met when both of you have a picnic under the warm sun.

you had a small wedding with your family and friends,and neuvillette being the wedding officiant and warning wriothesley to take care of you. later on, you would move in the fortress with wriothesley, however you have to go to the overworld for work, which wriothesley didn't mind, and you would return to the fortress at night with souvenirs for your husband and sigewinne.

there are times that you would roam around the fortress without your husband, and interacting with the prisoners, which you are not worried in the slightest bit. you know your husband watches you in the shadows and follows you around the fortress so that you can be safe.

husband!wriothesley loves the way you casually tell him other people's business as if you're just gossiping to him. plus, he sees this as a free information from the overworld.

"you know there's this guy who bragged about sleeping with a woman, but he robbed her when she was sleeping, he was bold enough to brag about it"

"if you're wondering why im getting a lot of letters lately, its my friend, they've been on and off with their relationship, i just told them to break up with their partner"

"remember the actress i told you about from before? yeah, she almost committed adultery because the guy she's currently going out was already married"

husband!wriothesley may not show affection to you publicly, but behind closed doors he immediately turns into a dog begging for head/chin scratches and belly rubs.

husband!wriothesley loves it whenever you sit on his lap, facing him, with your head on his shoulder, sleeping. there are times that he would fall asleep along with you since your slow breathing and soft snoring lulled him to sleep. if he's not asleep he would press kisses on your lips which he would chuckle whenever you scrunch your nose.

husband!wriothesley who thought about having kids with you, but decided not to have one yet since both of you are not ready for one. for now, you guys have sigewinne and the melusines.

husband!wriothesley who looks at you in disbelief after finding out that you help sigewinne and the melusines put stickers all over him and his belongings.

"you're my wife yet your betraying me like this??"

"sorry about that, you look good in glitter though" you giggled at him

"flattery will get you nowhere, dear" you chuckle, knowing he wasn't mad at you. not that he would get mad at you anyway

"aww, is my husband upset with me?" you coo, striding towards him "how will i ever make it up to him?" you put one arm behind his neck, with your free hand caressing his cheeks.

husband!wriothesley who secretly enjoys your mischievous side, even if you give him headaches with your shenanigans, he's still willing to clean up your mess.

"what did you do this time??" he asked you sternly to which you didn't respond, only looking away pouting and tapping the tip of your feet. the two guards behind you starts to sweat at your lack of response, afraid that you angered the duke.

your husband sighs and dismissed the two guards. your husband looks at you as the guards exit, "that's it. you're getting punished" he suddenly stride towards you and threw you on his shoulder. you let out a yelp and started to kick you feet.

you stopped kicking when you felt a smack on your ass, "behave yourself." "im sorry!!" "don't worry dear, i'll know it when i hear it"

[kiyomitakada]

i truly think the fact that misa is aware light's using kiyomi for the investigation is underutilized. the adultery is made 100% funnier when you realize that the entire task force (and misa) is in on it, and they still start wondering if he's actually two-timing because at this point in late-stage capitalightism light has stopped communicating with pretty much everyone

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Interviews

A/N: I have no real knowledge of how the military investigates and prosecutes anything and google only gets you so far.  

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst, allusions to child abuse

Length: 3000ish

Summary: They are interviewed. 

Previous     Masterlist     Next

When you awoke the first morning next to Jake, he had still been clutching your hand. He placed a featherlight kiss on the inside of your wrist that had made your heart clench before he left the bed. But that was the only time it happened.

He rarely woke you up with his nightmares in the nights that followed, but you knew when he had them. Your internal clock would always wake you before the morning alarm and you could always tell how Jake slept based on his proximity to you. If he was firmly on his side of the bed it meant there had been no nightmares. He would be alert and well rested. The closer he was to you, the worse his sleep was. If he was touching you in any way you knew he had a bad nightmare.

When the alarm rang he would pull away. The hand that slipped under your sleep shirt, and was flattened to the skin of your stomach, would jerk from you like you burned him. The feel of his soft breaths would disappear as he moved his cheek from where it was pressed against your shoulder, and the warmth of his body would be gone as he immediately got up. 

He ignored you on those mornings. He’d go on a longer run and use the excuse that he had to hurry so he wouldn’t be late to avoid your eyes. At this point a mumbled apology for touching you or a bad joke would be preferable. The conscious rejection of the unconscious moments of intimacy hurt worse than if he had never touched you.

– – – 

You had insisted on hiring a lawyer and Jake had agreed. It was during one of the first meetings with the lawyer, Davis, that the second bombshell had dropped. “So you're telling me that in addition to having to prove our marriage is real, Jake is going to be dishonorably discharged over adultery?” You look between Jake and the lawyer incredulously. “Christ! What is this? Puritan England?”

With the interviews coming up you had finally found out who had reported you. A one night stand of Jake’s had been upset that he didn’t want anything serious and had broken into his house and found your marriage certificate in his office. She had reported the marriage and the adultery in revenge.

“Well for the American Military it still is,” Davis says, surveying Jake from behind his desk in his spacious office. “I understand you have a meeting tomorrow with your commander regarding the adultery accusations?” 

You turn to Jake in surprise. “You knew about this?” He nods reluctantly.

“I knew about the law but I only found out about being reported a few days ago. Cyclone is a stickler for rules so I don’t know how it will go.” he says in defeat. “We might not know for a few days.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter pacing the room and the two men ignore you. A tension headache building.

“It is unlikely that they will be able to prove the third clause; that the… relations,” Davis awkwardly clears his throat when he looks at you, “interfered with you in a professional capacity, or the morale of your teammates.”

“Other than the clusterfuck her reporting you out of spite has caused,” you chime in.

“Well yes, other than that.” Davis agrees, “In the event that they can prove the third clause, you are more likely to be docked pay, demoted, or desk duty.” 

You suck air in through your teeth at that and Jake doesn’t react beyond a defeated nod. Your heart sinks for him. Jake loved to fly. It was all he ever talked about, every time he would mention it his eyes would light up and his dimples would appear. You collapse into the sofa in the office and pull your knees to your face. Guilt overwhelming you. What was rule number one when you married Jake? Oh right, never negatively impact his life.

“Well we can’t do anything about that until we know how your commander intends to proceed so today we are going to focus on the questions about your marriage that the investigators will likely ask.” Slowly you rise and join them 

– – – 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the adultery charge?” you ask Jake as he drives you home. 

“I didn’t want you to worry.” He reaches out and takes your hand startling you with the physical contact. He had been avoiding touching you since you started sleeping next to each other. “None of this is your fault. I knew what I was doing the whole time.”

“Then why did you stay married to me, Jake?” you feel like you have asked him this question a million times. 

“I dunno, it was just easier and I liked the money.” He’s given you variations of this answer every time, and this is the first time you don’t believe him.

– – – 

Your interview was to take place in a conference room at Davis’ office. You had not yet been charged with anything and your lawyer described it as more of a fact finding mission than an interrogation. Your bank and phone records had been subpoenaed and according to Davis, the interviews were likely to be the last bit of the investigation. 

Despite all the coaching you fiddle with the pen in front of you. Hands trembling and unable to stay still. Davis leans over and gently pulls it out of your grasp. You are waiting in his office until they call you. Jake still didn’t know what would happen with the adultery case and everything being out of your control was getting to you. 

Jake arrives and sits beside you, giving your hand a quick squeeze. When he goes to pull away you tighten your grip and cling to him. He gives your hand two short squeezes but does not try to pull away again. You revel in the feel of his hand, callus rough and reassuring. When his assistant comes to get you, Davis leads you to the conference room first, the warmth of Jake's touch lingers as you walk out.

The investigators are across the table from you and a recording device sits in the middle of the table. They hit play on the digital recorder and you all state your names for the record before they begin asking you questions. Their names escape your memory. One is in his fifties and balding and one has glasses, so you quickly dub them Glasses and Balding in your mind. 

Most of the questions are ones that were expected but you can't relax. Your jaw clenching and your shoulders tense. 

“Why didn’t you change your name?” asks Balding.

“Personal choice, many women don’t.”

“Why is this the first time you are living with your husband?” This question comes from Glasses.

“At first I was finishing school and I had my cancer treatment, plus Jake was still in flight school, then he had shore tour and I was in university, then he was deployed and it was just easier to be apart. Logistically.”

“What about emotionally?” asks Balding, writing something down.

“It sucked.”

“Why did you only choose to move in with your husband after you were notified of the investigation?” Glasses asks.

“Don’t answer that,” Davis cuts in and your nerves ramp up, you wish you still had that pen to fiddle with. “You are assuming the reason she moved is connected to the investigation.”

“I’ll rephrase: Why did you decide to move when you did?” 

“Jake finally got a more permanent posting and my lease was up a few months later so we decided we could finally make it work living together, the letter was a coincidence.”

“Why not break the lease?” Balding asks.

“I couldn’t do that to my roommate.”

“Aw yes, your best friend is your husband's little sister, did she have an impact on your marriage?” Glasses says.

“She introduced us.” 

“That’s it? She didn’t care that you were barely legal and married her much older brother?”

Davis cuts in and you fight to stay calm, “The age of my clients at the time of their wedding is irrelevant.” 

“You share bank accounts with your husband and yet you never spend more money than you deposit. Why is that?” Balding asks, abruptly switching topics.

You frown at the ridiculousness of this question. “You are suspicious because I am financially responsible? Jake doesn’t spend more than he earns either.” 

“You took out loans, scholarships, and used military spouse benefits to pay for university rather than ask your husband who sends his extra funds to his mother, rather than pay for his wife’s university.” Balding stares at you expectantly.

You wait and when he doesn't continue, you ask, “What's your question?”

He smirks. “I want to know why?” 

“His father got sick and died, she has lots of medical debt.” You lean forward and clasp your hands in front of you. “I respect his mother greatly and completely support Jake financially helping her.” 

The financial questions continue and the investigators circle back and ask earlier questions with different wording, like they hope you will give a different answer. They ask why you always talk on the phone and rarely text and a few other questions you had been prepared for.

“One final question,” Glasses says and you feel the hairs rise on the back of your neck in nerves at his tone. “Your husband is accused of having an extramarital sexual relationship. When were you told about his infidelity?”

Your stomach turns. Unsure about exactly how to answer the question. You settle for a carefully worded answer. “I was told when we found out who reported our marriage,” you say through gritted teeth. Technically it was true, Jake never told you about the other women, you just knew. 

“Does it bother you that there was probably more than one woman?” 

“Ok, we are done here.” Davis cuts in and you storm out of the room, brushing past Jake as you exit and flee to the end of the hall. 

You stand staring out the window. Ashamed by how upset you are. You knew what your marriage was, and based on how Jake has been avoiding you, all it ever would be. The shame turns to anger. Anger at yourself for loving him and hoping for him to love you back, anger at the Navy, the government, but most of all angry at Jake. Angry he never divorced you. Angry at the fact he never told you about the adultery law. Angry about the other women. Angry that he would never look at you the same way. 

– – – 

Jake watches you brush past him with a mutinous expression and storm down the hall. He glances at Davis and follows you despite the fact the investigators are waiting. He watches you glare out the window for a moment before he softly calls to you. “Pip?”  The look you give him is so full of rage he is taken aback. “Darlin’, are you ok?” Your face shifts to dejection at his words before you clear your throat and straighten your shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” you tell him, nodding toward the conference room, “you should get back there.” Your expression doesn’t change and he can’t figure out why you are looking at him like that, like he hurt you. He curls his hand around your elbow to pull you into his arms and is surprised when you jerk your arm out of his grasp and shove his chest, rocking him back a step with a sharp, “Don’t.”

He stares at you in shock, still able to feel the warmth of your hands hitting his chest, while your face flickers between fear and guilt. “I’m sorry.” you whisper, folding in on yourself and turning away.

Davis appears beside you. “I think we should save this for after they leave,” he says in a harsh whisper. “Jake conference room. Pip, wait in my office.” 

When you abruptly turn to go Jake reaches out and catches your hand, giving it a quick squeeze before you pull your hand out of his as you walk away, eyes fixed on the ground. 

Jake's mind is spinning the whole interview. Answering questions automatically based on the lie you had concocted. Davis stepped in for many of the questions around adultery. 

Your reaction baffled him. You had never rejected him like that, and the anger and despair was a look he had never seen on your face.

Everything had been going smoothly until you had to share his bed. He had been dealing with the nightmares on his own for years, and one night next to you and all his coping skills went out the window. After that first night when you had calmed him he had begun to seek you out when he woke in the middle of the night. On most nights it was enough to hear you breathe, feel the warmth radiating off your soft skin.

When it was bad he needed to feel you, feel the rise and fall of your stomach as you took each breath, feel your pulse beat under his fingers, feel the warmth of your skin directly. In the mornings the guilt of bringing you into his world of nightmares and shame would overwhelm him and he would pull away. But at night, with the images of death behind his eyelids, he needed to touch you. To know you were safe and alive and with him.

When the interview ended and he walked back into Davis’ office you were sitting in one of the chairs by the desk, your posture perfect, hands clasped together with no trace of your earlier emotions other than your brow slightly pinched with worry. 

He sits down beside you, eyeing the difference in your demeanor as Davis walks around the desk and takes a seat. “Well it looks like your little fight might have helped your case, I overheard them whispering about a lovers quarrel before I went to separate you.”

“I’ll take whatever we can get,” you say with a tight smile. “What's next?”

“We wait to see if they are pursuing charges,” Davis shrugs, “They will review evidence, and will probably wait for what your commander will do with the adultery accusation. If you get disciplined on that accusation it will actually strengthen your legitimate marriage case.” 

“Best worst case scenario.” Jake sighs and Davies nods.

– – – 

Jake follows you in his truck as you drive home. His mind turns over the swings in your behavior and emotions the last few hours.  First you were nervous clutching his hand, then there was the anger and sadness. But none of that unnerved Jake as much as your calm perfect posture in the office after. 

When he follows you through the door you immediately start tidying up, taking the coat from the back of a chair and putting it in the closet, and stacking shoes neatly. He watches you move into the kitchen and wash your hands before emptying the clean dishwasher. “I’m going to make that stir-fry you like,” your voice is soft. “And saw a trick on TikTok to make extra gooey chocolate chip cookies that I was going to try tonight.” 

“I’m on emptying the dishwasher, and dinner duty,” he says trying to get you to look at him. 

“I just feel like I need to do something," you say with a smile that does not reach your eyes, handing him a beer from the fridge, “I’ll do the dinner dishes too, you get the night off.” You turn to go back to emptying the dishwasher. 

Jake stares at the cold beer in his hand before putting it back in the fridge and sitting at the breakfast bar. “We need to talk about today.” Your muscles tense almost imperceptibly. 

“Oh,” you say with a casual shrug, barely pausing in your task. “I’m not a good liar, and I was so stressed from the interview, I thought if I acted upset about the adultery question where they couldn't really see my face it would sell it. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that I was going to push you.”

That could have been what you were doing but the look on your face had been so genuinely full of heartbreak, so real, that he wasn’t sure he believed you now. “Well you fooled me.” he answers to see your response. 

Your soft laugh and the way your movements loosen slightly tells him the truth. You are a great liar. You lied your whole childhood and anyone who didn't know you would fall for it every time. But Jake knows you.

He knows your posture isn’t so perfect when you are relaxed, knows you do everything in your power to avoid dishes, and knows you like your cookies crunchy. He is the one who likes them soft.

As he watches you move around the kitchen he realizes what you are doing. “I’m not mad at you, Pip.” 

“Well that's good.” You grin at him with that same smile, it even has laugh lines, but your eyes are hollow. It was killing him to see you ice him out.

“I can cook or do dishes.” Jake searches your face, speaking softly and trying to get you to stop trying to placate him. When you refuse his help again he drags his hands through his hair in frustration. “You are allowed to be upset Pip, you are allowed to be mad, mad at me, at the situation, at everything. I’m not your parents, I won't blame you for your emotions. I’m not going to be mad at you. I won’t hurt you.”

You are frozen in the center of the kitchen clutching a mixing bowl. “I know you won't.” Your posture is the same but there is a flicker of emotion returning to your eyes and Jake sighs with relief. 

“Don’t cook tonight, I’m ordering a pizza.” Jake says with a soft smile trying to coax a real one out of you. “And you should make crunchy cookies.”

[privateeyesusa]

Adultery Private Investigations Jacksonville Florida - Private Eyes

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[mackyoutlaw]

Contact a Private Investigator for Your Next Case | Macky Outlaw

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[nanshe-of-nina]

Women’s History Meme || Empresses (2/5) ↬ Catherine de Valois-Courtenay (before 15 April 1303 – October 1346)

The official Neapolitan investigation into Andrew of Hungary’s murder targeted Johanna’s closest supporters and left her isolated and vulnerable. Her aunt, Catherine of Valois, took advantage of that vulnerability to become the queen’s confidant in order to make certain that one of her sons would be Naples’s next king. At first, it appeared that this son would be Robert, the eldest of the Tarantini, who for a time seemed to be winning the competition between the Angevin princes for power and whom Johanna requested a papal dispensation to marry. Soon, however, Louis gained the upper hand, and Johanna’s requests for dispensations began to identify him as her intended. — From She-Wolf to Martyr: The Reign and Disputed Reputation of Johanna I of Naples by Elizabeth Casteen Of the many relatives who chose to avail themselves of the glittering social whirl of the capital, one stood out: Joanna’s aunt, Catherine of Valois, widow of Robert the Wise’s younger brother Philip, prince of Taranto. Catherine was Joanna’s mother’s older half-sister (both were fathered by Charles of Valois). Catherine had married Philip in 1313, when Philip was thirty-five and she just ten. Catherine was Philip’s second wife. He had divorced his first on a trumped-up charge of adultery after fifteen years of marriage and six children in order to wed Catherine, who had something he wanted. She was the sole heir to the title of empress of Constantinople. … Catherine was twenty-eight years old, recently widowed, and a force to be reckoned with when the newly orphaned Joanna and her sister, Maria, first knew her at the Castel Nuovo in 1331. Shrewd, highly intelligent, and vital, Catherine was supremely conscious of her exalted ancestry and wore her title of empress of Constantinople as though it were a rare gem of mythic origin. Even the death of her husband, Philip, in 1331 had not dissuaded her from persisting in her efforts to reclaim the Latin Empire for herself and her three young sons: Robert, Louis, and Philip. A series of shockingly inept leaders had left the Byzantine Empire vulnerable to attack from the west, and this state of affairs was well known in Italy. Moreover, Catherine was used to getting her way. — The Lady Queen: The Notorious Reign of Joanna I, Queen of Naples, Jerusalem, and Sicily by Nancy Goldstone

[osarina]

Yanzai but it’s just complete and utter horror. I’m thinking this takes place in a no-abilities civilian AU. Dazai is the disowned son of an influential politician, depressed and aimlessly living his life and leeching off relatives who feel bad for him. Reader is the clever daughter of affluent businessmen and has a bright future ahead of her and lives a happy life. All that is turned upside down when she makes the mistake of helping the drunk man she saw passed out on the sidewalk in the more dangerous part of town. Unknowingly she saved Dazai the night he was going to end his life, and sparked an obsession in him that would lead to the ruin of her life.

Dazai already had severe issues in this AU. His parents were cold, detached and dismissive of him. He was pretty much raised by the servants they had. His older siblings simply saw him as competition for any possible inheritances and therefore never bothered building a meaningful relationship with him. His father was strict, had impossible expectations and his anger was downright dangerous. His mother resented him, never addressing him with warmth and was almost never home. Both of his parents busied themselves with bringing home various lovers, it being an open secret in the household. All of this neglect, abuse and his parents adultery severely warped his views on love. He began developing obsessive tendencies, never knowing how to love something in moderate amounts. He always clung desperately to the good things in his life, afraid of losing them. He always chased after the feeling of love, never having experienced it neither felt it for someone…until that fateful night.

He developed a raging obsession and infatuation with reader at first sight, her act of selfless kindness being so foreign to him. He couldn’t help but instinctively crave more of her, yearning to be in her presence once more when they parted. He couldn’t help but follow her home, not wanting to risk never seeing her again. And so camping outside her penthouse apartment became an ordinary action in his bleak, dull life. He began stalking her everywhere, sneaking pictures whenever he could. He hired a private investigator to keep track of her, writing down her schedule based on what he learned, trying to orchestrate bumping into her again. Yet he could never bring himself to do it. He was well aware of his situation. Compared to her, he felt like nothing. He couldn’t compare to someone like her, who to him was like a bright light amidst the darkness. It would be like comparing a candle to the radiance of the sun. Ashamed to approach her, he began stalking her even more intensely. Breaking into her apartment, stealing her intimate items, including things like a few pairs of underwear here and there. Reader felt like she was going insane, having lost items that she logically shouldn’t have lost. It escalated, to the point where he hired some thugs he knew that were involved in illegal activities just to beat up people who interacted with her in an intimate manner or showed interest in her. He couldn’t help himself. This parasocial relationship he had cultivated with her was the first and only thing that had ever cured the loneliness he had felt his entire life.

Recklessly in love and high on his obsession, he began remodeling his shithole apartment just for the purpose of accommodating her. He couldn’t stand to be apart from her any longer, so he decided to act now. Slipping past her in the bar she went out to one night and slipping something into her drink was easy, and following her out into the back alley as she felt sick and wanted fresh air was easy too. So was picking her up and putting her in the car he’d hired and strategically placed there, handcuffing her to the door just in case.

Dazai in this AU isn’t sane in any way, shape or form. He doesn’t want an equal partner, he is obsessed with the image of reader that he formed when he encountered her that night and thinks that he and he only is entitled to her. He is attached to the angelic kindness she extended to him. The first and only act to truly make an impact on him his entire life. He selfishly wants her there to be able to satisfy his desire for love and to cure his chronic loneliness. And if she doesn’t comply and breaks the illusion of this fantasy, he can get violent and unhinged. Underneath it all, he does love her though, in a dark, twisted and wholly messed up way. But there is a genuine fondness and desire to be with her normally. However, it is not allowed to blossom as his obsessive and possessive tendencies are infinitely stronger and aggressive.

When Reader has calmed down from panicking at waking up in a near empty rundown apartment, in a room without windows, chained by her ankle to the bed she’s on and having been left alone all day, Dazai enters. At first she doesn’t recognize him, only having had a single short encounter with him months before. She asks what he wants from her, pleading with him to let her go, offering money, anything. He’s eerily, disturbingly calm, going on about things in an almost casual manner as he drops off a black duffel bag on the ground and begins shuffling around the room. His expression is blank and unreadable, movements calm, and voice monotone when he answers “I just want someone to keep me company” at her questions. She doesn’t know that he’s bursting from the inside out with lovesickness and elation.

And so begins his torment of her. His overbearing clinginess, his suffocating demands for her to love him, to hold him, to affirm how she loves him. His punishments if he doesn’t deem her answers not fitting enough, her embrace not loving enough. He completely forbids her from talking about her life from before the kidnapping, unless it is about their first meeting. He’s so immensely possessive, he drives himself insane with jealousy, able to think himself into a spiral, even though he’s currently holding her in his arms and should not logically have anything to be jealous about. He just cannot handle her not thinking about him. He wants to be the center of her world just like she is his. Hates feeling so vulnerable knowing that he needs her but that she doesn’t feel the same. That he cannot live without her but she can without him. That she’d prefer to live without him. So he plays psychological tricks on her to make her dependent on him. Throwing her into a cold dark room without food and water for days, to seem like her “savior” when he finally let her back in. Showing pictures of accidents he orchestrated in her loved ones lives through his money and connections, to show how he’d saved her from the outside world and that she should be grateful that he took her because look at what’s happening out there.

One time when she mentioned her old life he completely snapped, pinning her down on the mattress by the throat. Tears were steaming down his face, his pupils completely dilated and hair falling in his eyes. He looked completely crazed, screaming on about how he did everything for her, yet it still wasn’t enough? Asking her why she couldn’t just love him. Why she wanted to leave him like everyone else in his life. His hands began bleeding from the scratches she’d left on them as she gasped for air. He abruptly snapped back to his senses after that, and instead began spiraling about something else. Falling to the floor and clutching his head, screaming, retching. All at the realization that he had turned into his father. Reader was so terrified that she eventually had to calm him down herself, something that amplified his obsession with her, and so the cycle continued.

Was this OOC? Maybe, but it’s not supposed to portray him in a sane state of mind. This is a Dazai that’s faaaar gone and shaped differently by the circumstances of life. I wanted to write more because this is barely even scraping the surface of the ideas I have but I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. What are your thoughts?

OOC ????? THIS IS LITERAL ART NONNIE OH MY GOD literally everything from the back story to his spiral GODDDD - dazai being the disowned son of an influential politician is actually peak and then reader as the daughter of a businessman, ready to take over after her father and then everything goes to shit after she helped dazai ITS PERFECTTTT ugh okay let me get into it

his back story actually has me weeping </3 it reminds me a bit of nlh and that's what i use to shape dazai's backstory too - obviously i've changed quite a bit of it in pmreader universe to just help things flow better but the original inspo was nlh </3 but i LOVE that it all warped his view on love and pretty much turned him into what he is. do you imagine he was home schooled or went to school? because either way i could imagine it just making everything worse - whether he's pushed away by his classmates or just trapped in that house 24/7 with only his parents and siblings who can't stand him. also ill have u know that the part where you were like he always clung desperately to the good things in his life made me pout so hard :'))

PFFFF ALSO THE FACT THAT HE LITERALLY BREAKS INTO HER APARTMENT TO STEAL HER STUFF BEFORE EVEN ORCHESTRATING A SECOND BUMP IN WITH HER - and yk what, if he had orchestrated that second bump in, this could've been a totally different yanzai au .. instead of kidnapping her, he could've just inserted himself in her life and then it would've been like a game of cat and mouse because she KNOWS in her heart that something is up with him and starts getting suspicious of the bump ins, but he's just so good at covering his tracks that she can never get any proof of it. and its all just him making her fall for him all the while hiding the fact that he's been stalking her for weeks, trying to rein in all of the obsessive & possessive tendencies until he knows that he has her ... okay okay im getting off track

BUT THERE IS A GENUINE FONDNESS AND DESIRE TO BE WITH HER NORMALLY. HOWEVER, IT'S NOT ALLOWED TO BLOSSOM AS HE OBSESSIVE AND PSOSESSIVE TENDENCIES ARE INFINTELY STRONGER AND AGGRESSIVE UGHHHHHHH and you know what, i imagine maybe once or twice he would TRY to do normal things with her but it always backfires on him because of course she's going to try to use it as an attempt to escape because yk he KIDNAPPED her, but each time he tries and it backfires it just makes him spiral even more

god i don't know which part is worse - the throwing her into a cold dark room without food and water or showing her pictures of accidents he orchestrated in her loved ones lives - i genuinely think both would send her over the edge. i also think the second would be another one that would backfire on him, because he could tell whenever he shows her it, that she's thinking about it for DAYS - eyes a bit faraway, voice distant - and it makes him even more aggrieved because she's supposed to be thinking about how grateful she is that she wasn't caught up in it thanks to him

AND UGHHHH THE ENDING WITH HIM SNAPPING AND HER BEING SCARED AND CALMING HIM DOWN BUT THAT ONLY MAKES THE OBSESSION WORSE ... he convinces himself this is a sign that she really does love him and not that she was literally just scared for her life

NONNIE YOU LITERALLY GET ME LIKE NOBODY ELSEEEEEE PLS YOU MUST RETURN TO ME WHEN YOU HAVE TIME TO WRITE MORE ON THIS I BEG

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 17. wicked games

chapter tags/warnings: family drama. mentions of masturbation. mentions of sex. infidelity/adultery. nonconsensual acts. manipulative undertones. strong language. classism.

word count: 3.6k

notes: this chapter incorporates the official manga relationships in the zenin household (link that illustrates the family tree). without further ado, i present to you the latest pov added to the fic: toji! likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated. xoxo

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Toji Fushiguro could not get his mind off of you.

Was that weird to admit?

When he last saw you two weeks ago in Teyvat’s meeting room, dolled up in that pretty pink dress, he had to wrestle every urge to push you onto his dick. All the times he had to retreat to his room afterward too—all because your one outfit had set off his imagination—forcing Toji to lock and then lean against his door so that he could palm himself through his sweats to dirty thoughts about you.

Gosh, what higher being in the universe allowed you to be such a hot and sexy tease? You sure loved prancing around with basically nothing and stealing looks at his colleagues as though he wouldn’t notice.

At this point, Toji was certain that he wasn’t the only therapist calling dibs on you. That most definitely pissed him off, though, because he explicitly told you that your pussy belonged to him.

Then why hadn’t you made another appointment these past two weeks?

Were you upset, perhaps flushed with utter denial, from the revelation that your husband had been cheating on you? Besides, he recalled how you had reacted so strongly to the information, racing away from the therapists who were just being honest with you.

In hindsight, Toji might have felt a teeny tiny bit bad about crushing your rose-colored glasses without much lead-up, but he was rarely the type to beat around the bush anyway. After all, he was the one to suggest a divorce in your first therapist appointment.

Of all things, echoing laughter was what finally grounded Toji’s wandering mind.

His green eyes fluttered rapidly, realizing that he had been in his office and staring blankly at his desk for... how long has this been? He glanced briefly at his tabletop clock. When he noticed how the time had advanced by thirty minutes, Toji rested his forehead on his left palm. “Damn...”

Given how he had a fully booked schedule today, he could not afford to dawdle in his thoughts. He had not noticed that half an hour had passed so quickly. How was it possible that thinking about one person (you) made him lose all sense of time?

He could do better than this.

‘Maybe you’re the one who needs a therapist,’ Megumi had recently pointed out to him in irony, and boy, do these words from his own eighteen-year-old son sting.

In contrast to himself, though, his co-workers had lately been in higher spirits than usual. That much Toji could ascertain given the hubbub that continued to filter into his suite. He would not have minded the phenomenon much had it not been for this gut feeling, this hunch, that you were the reason behind this change.

At his age, Toji has learned to mind his own business, but he still considered joining his colleagues by the reception desk to investigate. He stopped, however, upon noticing an article at his desk.

Right, this was what had derailed Toji from his work.

‘Look at this, boss,’ Geto had said when he first presented the printed webpage to Toji. ‘No wonder Y/N’s been lonely. Naoya literally took his side bitch to Mexico.’

The accompanying photo may be in low resolution, but Toji recognized the two figures hand-in-hand, stepping into a private jet. Their faces were shielded by baseball caps and face masks, their bodies clad in boring and baggy clothes. Consequently, Toji had to scoff, drumming his fingers along his cheekbone. 

Another impeccable snapshot for our collection, huh?

Quite the scandal was brewing in Japan’s high society, not to mention how the illicit relationship involved your husband, and the therapists were merely here for the show. This was what the therapists were trying to advise you about before you promptly shut yourself away from them.

The love affair—especially involving a family as influential as the Zenin’s—should theoretically be all over magazines and newspapers, but any internet search for this image would prove futile. The Zenins were good like that, relying on under-the-table tactics to ensure that this photo would go nowhere.

Only thanks to his colleagues, who had extensive contacts throughout Japan’s many ranks, was Toji able to get his hands on this printed article before the magazine editors had taken them down.

Naoya, that cunning bastard.

If he had been in Cabo prancing around with his paramour, how did he so quickly realize that his images had been circulating among Japanese media? Or, more likely, was it his authoritarian father Naobito who informed his doltish son about the impending rumors?

Either way, Toji could not believe that he was affiliated with both assholes by blood, no less: Naoya, his cousin, and Naobito, his uncle. To think how he was involved again with the relatives who he had sought to avoid, Toji assumed that fate must love toying with him.

Already, growing up in the Zenin family was hell, to put things mildly: how they would obsess over power and prestige as though those two items alone determined one’s value as a human being, how they would scrutinize one’s every action because everything had to conform to their cookie-cutter standards, and then how they would abruptly cast aside those who strayed away from their ideals.

Toji, once an established member of the household, could speak from experience. Thus, blood relation meant nothing if these were the same people who had prayed for his downfall. 

He recalled his relatives’ dirty glances when he announced his engagement twenty years ago, then the even nastier looks when he took his first wife’s surname as his own: Fushiguro. ‘She’s a woman too low for our caliber,’ Toji had been told. 

He remembered the apathy he later received after his wife’s untimely death, followed by belittlement when he chose to marry again—this time, to a single mother. Perhaps he should have heeded his family’s advice for the last bit, but his decisions seemed right at the moment. During a desperate time, he provided his then-gradeschool son with a much-needed maternal figure as well as a stepsister.  

His personal life already made him a deviant among his relatives, so when his family discovered his therapist ventures earlier this year, Toji was not surprised to be severed from the household he once had been considered to lead. Well, Toji was more relieved than bitter, anyway. He could now live life on his terms without worrying about what his father’s uncle’s second cousin twice-removed or some crap like that thought about him and his son.

As he gazed upon the pixelated photo again, he sighed and wondered: was this how low the Zenins have stooped since they had expelled him? A centuries-old bloodline built on relationships with the public and the powerful, now resorting to bribes and threats to sweep scandals under the rug? While watching the Zenin clan burn from afar was entertaining, the situation was also pathetic and sad.

To also think that his moronic cousin Naoya was now not only the household heir but also the current CEO of the family conglomerate. Not to mention that the family’s current patriarch Naobito seemingly turned a blind eye to Naoya’s flings. The older Zenin might have been a brilliant businessman back in the early ‘90s, but his elderly brain had deteriorated too far to see how, at this rate, his son would eventually drive the company and the prideful family to the ground.

Had you realized what you married into?

Probably not, but you didn’t deserve this.

Or, to put things the other way around, the Zenin family didn’t deserve you.

“Yo!”

Toji shot up from his seat just as his door crashed against the wall.

He turned to the sound’s source in surprise. Leaning against the entryway stood a personage with his white lab coat draped over his unsurprisingly shirtless chest. The incomer crossed his thick arms over his half-exposed tattoos, but one such arm frees itself to greet Toji with a mocking wave.

“Sukuna,” the older therapist grumbled, “I’ve told you to knock first.”

“Why?” the pink-haired man challenged, not caring how this must have been the hundredth time he heard the order. For him, this was in one ear and out the other. Rather than mind the complaint, he inspected his newly filed nails. “Worried I would walk into you fingering Mrs. Zenin again?”

“Only because that’ll make you jealous,” Toji retorted with equal spite, to which his colleague chose not to respond anymore.

Besides, as a savvy businessman, Sukuna knew how to pick his battles. He might come off as crude, but only because he understood that, with his financial acumen and incredible connections, he was an indispensable asset.

After some silence, Sukuna’s chest rose and fell with a long sigh. “Well, check your schedule, Fushiguro. You have an appointment coming up now.” Not only was he the most well-organized therapist but also the current receptionist on duty. He then huffed again. “Tsumiki’s mom has been waiting for you. I don’t know how you deal with such an impatient bitch. What the hell am I supposed to do when—"

And a hand shoved his face away before he could finish.

Sukuna, flinching from the unexpected approach, recoiled at a beaming woman that peered in from the door frame. Anyone would immediately notice that the overly excited client was beautiful. The plush of her full lips, the gentle arches to her face, the roundness in her doe-like eyes—her looks were akin to an angel constantly in awe. Most people could hardly believe that, with her youthful looks, she actually had a university-aged daughter (with whom Toji could see a strong resemblance, too).

Meanwhile, her large brown eyes scanned the office—the posters, the couch, the nearby mirror—until her gaze landed on Toji and lit up.

“Honey, I’ve missed you!”

Before someone could stop her, the woman welcomed herself into the premises, her lithe limbs swaying with her graceful figure. She sported a simple navy dress that contrasted with her true self because, as far as Toji knew, this woman was anything but simple.

In fact, as she sashayed into the room uninvited, Toji remembered the paparazzi pictures still sprawled on his desk. He caught Sukuna’s maroon gaze and scowled.

This is why I tell you to knock.

Hurriedly, Toji then pushed the photos under some files just as his client seated herself in the sofa seat closest to him. She then turned to her escort in the hall. “Thank you, Sukuna. You’re such a wonderful man.”

She might be oblivious to Sukuna’s irritation, but Toji did not miss the way his colleague hid a gag and rolled his eyes. “M'kay, whatever,” the pink-haired therapist muttered as he slinked back into the corridor.

Then, when Sukuna shut the door with him, she pressed her rosy lips together. “Aw, Strawberry Boy doesn’t want to join us. Guess he likes to play hard to get.”

“Mari,” Toji started, placing his right ankle over the other knee. He rested his back against his chair and held his hands behind his neck. “I do not think neither Sukuna nor any other therapist here is interested in you. Therefore, if you are seeking a summertime fling, I’d suggest you pursue someone else.”

Shot down, an exasperated Mari tossed her dark locks to one side, a die-hard habit of hers. “Like who?”

Like Naoya.

It was hilarious for Toji to think about how he was entangled with his cousin’s mistress, the very same lover in that paparazzi photo with the young executive. In fact, Toji had this theory that Naoya sent Mari here as a Trojan horse, a seemingly harmless client whose actual intention was to gather intel for the Zenin CEO from afar, a pretty façade to lure others into ruins. He didn’t have much evidence to back up the suspicion (yet), but he knew Naoya for long enough to be familiar with the silly games he’d play. Did Naoya and Mari really think that Toji would be so naïve?

“Well, in Tokyo, there are plenty of ways to meet people your age,” he finally suggested and had to suppress a slight smile before adding, “Unless...you’re into younger guys?”

Mari narrowed her eyes but for a millisecond. Had Toji not been at the top of his field, he would not have noticed. Nothing, however, got past him.

“But,” she responded, “I still like you most because you give me your time, Toji.”

Interesting. Because that would mean Naoya had been too busy for his poor sweetheart, hm?

No wonder Mari had been so frustrated. Life must be tough when one was merely the mistress of the Zenin Corporation’s CEO. Not only was Naoya Zenin a mediocre performer in bed, but the homewrecker role also came with no fancy balls, no formal recognition, and—if the affair was well-hidden—not enough public attention either.

Pity.

Toji leaned forward in one fluid motion, resting his elbows on his desk. “Do not misunderstand my intentions, though,” he clarified while lacing his fingers. “I spend time with you because, as your therapist, I am sadly obligated to do so.”

The woman frowned.

“Now, that���s not nice,” she pointed out, allowing her staccato to afflict him with guilt. "That’s not how to talk to your wife, my dear husband.”

And Toji snapped.

“Ex-husband,” he corrected forcefully. His startled client jerked backward in her seat, but that didn’t matter because he had to sternly remind her, “You were the one who filed for divorce, remember?”

Toji liked to think that he was a patient man. Well, he had to be. As he grew up, the pressure that came with the Zenin spotlight taught him to exert self-discipline and emotional regulation, skills that became even more pertinent in his current role.

As a licensed practitioner now, Toji was obligated to treat all clients equally regardless of background. But under no circumstance could he remove all biases when this was the very woman who split up with him, leaving his son Megumi and his stepdaughter Tsumiki under his care. Therefore, she had quite the audacity to keep visiting him at his office and still call him her husband, especially since she was Naoya’s mistress!

How sinister life could be. For years, no one—not even Toji himself—would have seen this coming: how his second wife would leave him, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ on the divorce papers, only to become his first cousin’s secret girlfriend.

His sudden confrontation, however, must have caught Mari off-guard, for she began twirling at her strands again. “Just because we aren’t married anymore does not mean that I don’t think about you. It’s been so long since we’ve—"

“Three days,” Toji interjected. He had to hold his breath before his annoyance controlled him completely. “The last time you saw me was three days ago. That isn’t much long ago at all.”

The silence that ensued was admittedly awkward until Mari suddenly stood up.

For a moment, Toji had to hide his relief thinking that the appointment would end earlier than anticipated, but he should have known that Mari wouldn’t leave that easily. Instead, she approached him in slow steps, encircling the seated therapist like a vulture.

When she drew near, her hands skimmed up from his brawny arms to his equally well-built shoulder blades, gliding over his lab coat before her warm palms began to knead at his tired muscles.

“I...think about you more than I’d like to admit,” she whispered, an incantation that could set any lustful man’s heart ablaze. Her fingers continued to massage him in slow and circular motions, the gentle pressure over tight knots melting into a calm and comforting rhythm. “I care about you so...don’t be mean to me, alright? The words you sometimes say, they hurt me a lot.”

Her delicate hands crawled up to his chin next, her left thumb tugging at the plush pillow of his lower lip. The most dangerous thing about Mari wasn't how she embodied a young lady’s exuberance with a mature woman’s elegance. Rather, it was her ability to place spells like these. Back when he had less self-respect, Toji might have forgiven her and caved in, her simple but flirtatious touches like trances that could crumble his resolve.

But you still fuck your ex-wife?

Of all moments, your words from weeks ago decided to haunt him now, your revolted expression a clear image in his memory. His heavy-lidded eyes batted quickly as he came to a realization: Why was he doing this?

In the revelation, Toji stopped Mari’s wandering hands from traveling toward his black slacks.

“Mari,” he said very firmly. As he pulled her away from him, his green eyes held her shimmering brown ones. “No.”

“What?” Given the woman’s visible surprise, Toji could also imagine the smoke that fumed from her nose. After all, this was the same man who once would go weak on his knees for her. Mari stepped back, folding her arms defensively. “Why not?”

“You say that my words hurt you, but I would argue that you’ve hurt me far more,” the therapist explained. As he regained composure, he twirled his chair so that he could face his client squarely. “Have you heard? Your own daughter Tsumiki isn’t even returning to Tokyo for her university’s summer break because she is too ashamed to see you.”

“Good!” she shot, surprising the man with her soured temper. “Would not have cared to hear from her either! Tsumiki had always sided with you and your urchin-headed son. But you know what? You’ve changed, Toji. You, and all the other therapists here, too. I don’t know what has been up with you four, but this clinic was far better back when Naoya worked here.”

Toji had a talent for hiding the whirr behind his thoughts, but he could not conceal his surprise this time. Although he wanted to, he never bothered to mention Naoya in his appointments with Mari before. However, it turned out he didn’t have to be the first one to bring up his cousin since Mari did so herself. Had she not reminded him, Toji would’ve forgotten that Naoya was once a sex therapist too, the family pair once working several doors away from each other. 

Since the opportunity already presented itself, Toji took the chance to inveigle his ex-wife. He stood up from his office chair and closed the little gap between him and his glaring client. 

“Let me tell you something,” Toji started, his voice low but steady. “You genuinely think Naoya is all that great of a person? That man has received countless complaints from his former clients about manipulation and derogatory remarks. He’s disrespectful. He’s deceptive. He's a complete con man. Therefore, I would actually argue that our office is much, much better without that elitist and misogynistic asshole.”

Come on, woman. Take the bait. I’m waiting. Three, two...

“Naoya is not that kind of person,” Mari erupted, likely faster and with more fury than she intended.

Well, that was easy. Toji appeared unruffled from the outside, yet he grinned inwardly.

While he paid no mind to how the woman shook her hands from anger and flung a weak fist into his strong chest, he did—however—find more amusement when she added, “Spreading false rumors about your own relative doesn’t make you the bigger person.”

Unfortunately for her, she tended to act and speak before she thought, not realizing that rushing to Naoya Zenin’s side made her suspicious. 

“What? Do my claims about ‘my own relative’ upset you that much?” Toji challenged, quoting her words. He rolled his shoulders back after pushing the woman’s hands from his pectorals. “He’s my baby cousin, so naturally, I have seen his good and bad sides. Just throwing that out there. Unless,” his voice then dropped into a deep bass, “for some reason, you know something I don’t...?”

The inflection in his tone was purposely inquisitive, and he raised an innocent brow with his questions. He could see the emotions that threatened to spill past her walls, from how she furrowed her brows in contemplation to how she pursed her lips in wrath.

But Mari bit her tongue at the very last moment. “No,” she quipped and folded her arms defiantly. “Naoya is not my business.”

Sounded rehearsed, but oh well. The paparazzi photos from their recent Mexico getaway might prove otherwise, though.

“If you say so,” Toji shrugged. 

He was satisfied enough with Mari’s reactions to his cousin’s name, and he liked thinking about how two heartless people had found passion in each other. Just as Toji retreated to his seat, a knock rapped at the door and opened to Geto at the entrance.

“Time is up, boss.”

Even as the appointment ended and was followed by other clients that day, Toji’s mind buzzed into the evening. 

Call him obsessed, but—for himself, for his son, for his stepdaughter, for his colleagues, and for you—he sought revenge. As Toji mulled over his strategy in his home library that night, he could feel himself about to detonate like a time bomb when the apartment buzzer rang unexpectedly.

“Megumi!” Toji’s low timbers boomed, hoping that his son would hear him from his room upstairs. He chased toward the entryway in hurried steps, calling the teenager’s name again because only the boy’s high school friends would be visiting at this hour. Toji swung the door open. “Megumi! Yuuji and Nobara are downst—”

His words vanished when, in the place of two bubbly teenagers, there stood you. 

You raised your gaze from the ground, the overhead lighting leaving a warm glow on your features as you met Toji with reddened and lachrymose eyes.

“Can...we talk?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) For me, this was another challenging chapter to write, as I balanced between introducing the many layers behind our main therapist and inundating you—my lovely readers—with too much information without adequate context. 2) Originally, I had named Mari something else. I changed it because her name eventually reminded me of a different anime character and I didn’t want the association. Haha. 

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