Its Not Often I Find A Feitan Fic So Im So Dang Happy Rn

It’s not often I find a Feitan fic so I’m so dang happy rn

Painting Lies

Feitan/reader (with a slight mention of phinks/reader and shalnark/reader)

He was surprisingly gentle. Nails would carve jagged lines down your legs, he’d press bruises into your skin. The burning of ointment, and warm water often pull gasps from your throat. The stinging and burning of the cuts grasped the air in your chest by its tail, twisting and tugging until it was yanked out, the same way he used pliers on that poor man's teeth when he was annoyed. At least you weren't left with gaping bloody holes when your breath and whines were ripped out.

You met him at an exhibition. There was a gentle background of classical music, a flood of people chattering away as they strolled through the exhibit. You hid in plain sight, your name tag on your chest, staring across the room at a piece made by someone else. Their line work was wonderful, each mark beautifully dragged your eyes across the piece in a loop. Its web pushing you out and pulling you in again. You hated it, it wasn’t bad no, but it was exactly what you wished to be. You were jealous, so filled with envy that you wanted to scream, to cry, and to throw a fit, sob into your pillow, and be comforted by your old stuffed friend.

You liked your little corner, and you happily talked with no one, becoming quick friends with the snack table. A few people came over to complement your work, and you nodded and thanked them. Perhaps you were too anxious, maybe it was a bad day, but you felt like your thanks were forced. It felt like you were stripped bare in front of them, caught halfway through changing. Plucked from the shower, your hair still dripping wet, as if you were halfway through shampooing.

He was different. His eyes were sharp, he felt social-avoidant, more so than you. You stood silently near each other for a while. You still felt like you were on a platter but less so as he took the liberty of glances at your name tag and gazed across the room. He stepped closer as the room grew less crowded.

“You made those?” he motioned toward your section of the exhibition.

You nodded slowly, feeling as if you were shivering like a scared dog.

“They’re good.”

“Thank you.”

You stole sips from your drink, glancing up at him every so often. He looked nice in the suit, it was tailored well, and the vents in the back didn't have the shipping treads still attached. You noticed that it helped you realize who was most likely to have money, and at the very least let you know who knew how to dress in a formal setting.

“The one-piece, with the organs, looked real.”

“Oh? Yeah, I stared at images of surgery the whole time while painting it.” You twirled your straw around your glass. The ice tapped against the cup, like the glass wind chimes that hug from your balcony. Your downstairs neighbor complained about them and you had to get rid of them. Sometimes you still see yourself sitting there in your chair, with your cat tucked behind your feet sleeping. “I didn't get the color right, I should have worked on it longer, it doesn't have enough eye movement.” The piece you’ve been glaring at didn't have those imperfections.

“I like it.”

I like talking with you. “I’m glad.”

You saw the time, realizing you had to go. There were awards to be handed out, and all of them were another reason for you to grow jealous. You wondered if stuffing your pockets full of snacks would be a good thing to come from this night.

“Are you going to the award ceremony?”

He looked back at you, thinking about it perhaps, you wouldn't blame him. They can be boring, especially if they’re unnecessarily long. He nodded, stepping forward without saying anything. He looked over towards you, waiting only a moment before you walked alongside him.

Your table was close to the walls. Nicely placed close to the snacks and drinks, but not close enough to have people hovering behind you. Having your pieces sold wasn't a guarantee, so you stuffed small handfuls of the free food into your bag when you thought no one was looking.

You didn't care to remember much about the night. Your legs were killing you, and you felt like you could sleep through a week when you got home. You liked your brief time with that man, the one you never caught the name of. It was a slow quiet conversation that dragged on but it didn't feel as awkward as you were used to. In a way, you wished to see him again, to have him be a new familiar face at any future show you had. You liked him, in the way you like a staple background character in a show.

You were more than shocked to find out that every piece of yours sold. Even more so when you saw you got more than the original asking price. You were crying with joy, while you practically jumped off the walls letting yourself celebrate with a childish movie and a more spendy takeout meal than you usually allow yourself from time to time. You fell asleep watching it, your cat curled up on your chest.

Your streak of good luck had you dancing all week. You danced with your cat as you took breaks from your projects, swinging him in your arms like he was a newborn. His little squeaks of a meow made you squeal with delight. You peppered kisses across his nose and ears, brushing his chest and desperately fighting off mats that always tried to appear in his fur. Your day job was boring as usual but there were fewer annoying things to deal with. You lucked out managing to snag a deal on paints, even managing to fit an experimental project into your personal use stash of cash.

In your unprofessional opinion, the best thing to happen was bumping into that man from the exhibit. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun started to dip down behind buildings and trees. You had to make a quick stop at a convenience store, the chime of the door welcoming you. You passed by the man in the green jacket waiting on a pack of cigarettes. Your shoes clicked on the floor, they made you feel cute, if you weren't in public maybe you’d spin in a circle and laugh, telling a joke to yourself about being a teacher walking in the halls. You grabbed a small can of tuna, a treat for your cat until you could get his food tomorrow when the store opened. You made sure to triple-check your budget and grab a snack for yourself.

There were a lot of things that needed to be done; you had bills due next week, the cat needed more food, you needed to check on litter sales, and you needed to do some grocery shopping. You need to check the calendar when you get home, that cat of yours needs to go to the groomer to help with his too-fluffy face. Then lost in thought you took a step back bumping into someone behind you.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You turned around, already apologizing with real sincerity.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh! You’re the guy from the thing,” You nearly didn't recognize him, half his face was covered after all. His eyes though were just so sharp, they were calculating and every time they dragged across the room it felt like the walls and floors shivered as a person would. They were beautiful in a scary intimidating way, matched with his silence you would have never dared talk with him.

“Do you live here? Or are you passing through or something?” Maybe you should have been more scared, no you should have been more scared, it was worse than extended family gatherings where you had to sit next to your father’s 3rd cousin’s great-niece, who was also your age with perfect grades and decorated in awards. Part of you desperately wanted to talk to him. You felt so strange dancing around your words, biting on sentences, and licking your comas, but you wanted to get to know this guy, as weird and as awful as it sounded, you kinda had a crush on the guy. It would explain your actions at least.

“Staying for business for a few weeks.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again, if that happens and you’re free I could show you this really pretty place with a bunch of cute kitties!” You smiled to yourself and went to check out your things, “I like doodling the cats sometimes they can be so silly, it's peaceful there,” you hummed a little note, thinking of them playing with each other and snacking on treats people left for them. “Anyways, it was nice seeing you again! In case we don't meet again, have a good few weeks!” You waved him goodbye and left with the ring of the door.

You passed through the streets until you were home and greeted by the cat sleeping atop the fridge. He was comfortably curled up with his tail covering his eyes and nose. His little pink ears poked out from atop his head twitching when the door opened and closed. His paws hung over the edge of the fridge, his little paw pads covered in dust and a little dirt from the plant on your balcony.

You went about your day painting his paws. Working diligently on your projects and scrambling to find that damned sketchbook. There were a thousand things to do during your very short few days before your exhibit. Everything was nearly complete. You needed to finish that one cursed liver that was not agreeing with the angle, and you had some hooks to hang to the back of a couple of others. That public showcase needed a more grief-stricken feel, you needed to figure out how to make it ooze out of the piece, and make this more than some random extra gory piece.

You worked late into the evening, you had bright white lights shining down onto the canvas from over your shoulders. When you started yawning every few minutes, your eyes started to water and you were starting to fight to keep focus, you decided to rest. The knot in your shoulders pinched and pulled at you stretched. You struggled to run your knuckles across your back as if to weed out the knots. You rubbed your eyes and noticed you forgot to close the blinds.

Living on the upper floors came with the benefit of safety. Though it did concern you that someone across the street could have been watching you. You’d simply need to make sure to do that every time you start to paint. Or set an alarm on your phone to make sure you close them each night. Though it was late and you needed to finish as soon as you could, so you didn't bother to go change into some fluffy pajamas or curl up into your bed but plopped onto your cheap futon with your cat and a small mountain of blankets you swiped from across the house and just let the exhaustion catch up with you.

Your hard work paid off. You reached your deadline, and while you had a thousand vile words for your last piece others only had small criticisms that you graciously thanked them for. You found yourself stuffing your face with snacks and yawning to yourself in-between conversations. You swear that if you miss one night of full sleep, you feel it for weeks.

Through the nice clothes of passersby and the quiet background chatter of the room, you saw that same guy looking up at one painting. His face was gently covered in a veil to cover his emotions, you couldn't read them even if you knew how. Yet he looked up and the way he looked made you want to believe that he liked it, you hoped that he was gazing up at it with admiration. He looked away from it, meeting eyes with you.

In a sudden surge of confidence, you stepped forward, your hands filled with your small prize of free food. You didn't know what you wanted to say to this man, but you did like how he looked in a suit, it's not your place to comment on his clothing but you preferred to see his lips the few times he spoke. You offered your handful of snacks as you munched on a cube of cheese, biting into pepper jack, how did you feel about the warm pepper jack?

“Do you like it?”

“Sort of.”

You looked up at the painting, your last one, the one that gave you the most trouble. The details still felt all wrong, the emotion was there but it was muddy, and hard to feel.

“It doesn't look like a liver,” you both said to each other.

You felt so excited, he knew it was off too, he knew that it wasn't right. “What’s wrong with it?” you smiled looking at the painting, tilting your head to see if that would help.

“The shading there,” he pointed, “ It doesn't have the right shade it should, and the blood vessels are too easy to see there.”

“Do you think a wash would fix it? I could give this a purple color in the shadows, less dark maybe like a lilac color? But then that part would look too uniform…”

You walked past each piece talking about the issues you could fix with the gorier ones, and how you could make the less gory invoke a desperate and sorrowful feeling.

“Can I ask if you're a collector or a critic?” You yawned a little, but you still felt decently awake, “I’m just curious you don't have to answer.”

“Neither,” he didn't bat an eye at your anxious stumble of words. “I went to the other one because my boss asked me to.”

“Did you come to this one because you wanted to?”

He didn't answer right away. “Yes.”

“Well I’m glad, it meant I could use you as an excuse to avoid conversation,” you joked, once again yawning as you sat down on a bench.

“You’re tired.”

“Yeah, I had to pull one too many all-nighters. I have to catch the last bus.”

He sat down next to you. Deep down inside you, exhaustion was bubbling up. It floated up to your skin melting away at your muscles and nerves. With every breath, you took it chewed through you until you were speaking in yawns and blinking through watery eyes. You wiped away at it, trying to keep yourself afloat in your head and not be dragged down into sleep.

“I could drive you home.”

You sniffled and yawned, trying to think. “I’d like that, I think, I’m just not exactly comfortable with it…” you couldn't ride the bus like this, you couldn't have some stranger drive you home like this either. Yet as if the world was against you, you had to pick between two awful ideas.

“Okay, you can drive me home, just don’t kidnap me, murder me, or any other gross shit okay?” You knew that the request made no logical sense but it made you feel ever so slightly more comfortable with the idea.

You typed your address into his phone, sinking into the passenger seat of what you kinda assumed was a rental car, though you didn’t care to ask while half asleep. The humm of the car on the empty streets was calming. The constant sound and the passing of the buildings only caused you to feel more sleepy, and you just slipped away. It just became so hard to fight to stay awake, it made you feel calm and there was an odd sense of comfort in it, falling asleep in the car, it reminded you of being a little kid.

You briefly woke up when the passenger door opened and you were plucked from the car. You made some confused noise which caused him to speak.

“I’ll carry you in.”

You mumbled something to him, probably your apartment number. Then you unsurprisingly feel asleep again. You kinda woke up to unlock the door. The handle was weird and had to be pushed just right to get the door to open.

“Come in if you want.” You said kicking off your uncomfy fancy shoes and scooping your very confused cat off the floor. He stared wide-eyed at the strange man that was invited into your home.

You had yet to move back into your bed so you collapsed just like every other night on your shitty little futon. “You can sleep over if you want, there’s my room that way if ya want the bed, possibly a sleeping bag if you’ll put up with a pink one from when I was nine.” You vaguely pointed in the directions of each place before promptly forgetting what happened next.

You woke up to a beautiful smell and a pile of blankets, pillows, and a pink sleeping bag on the floor. You were mildly confused but just rolled yourself onto the floor with your mountain of blankets and pillows. Nothing meowed when you landed so you took it as a success.

“Food.”

You looked out of the blankets at the feet beside your head. “I had like nothing in there to make real food out of?” You looked up at him confused.

“I grabbed stuff.”

“That’s like husband material right there.”

You yawned sitting up with a groan. He walked away back to the kitchen, and you looked down at yourself, wondering when you changed into pajamas, but it wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing you’ve done while asleep so you moved on like an idiot. That savory smell made you salivate like a starved dog. It was like your shitty little kitchen was glowing with holy light.

“Thank you so much!”

He nodded, sitting down on a mismatched stool next to you. You didn't mind eating in silence, you were so excited to have a home-cooked meal that tasted good, you may be able to do many things but cooking was not your forte.

“I leave tonight, will you show me the cat place?”

“The cat place?” you stared at him for a moment before it dawned on you and you practically screamed, “The cat place! Oh yes, I will! I have some wet food that we can feed them! My cat is picky and won’t eat the kind I wanted him to try.”

That's how you came to lead him through this bright sunny park, with a small bag of cat food and treats. It wasn’t warm, there was this slight cool feel to the air, when you stepped into the sun it warmed you instantly but as the leaves covered you from it you felt a shiver deep in your bones.

You stopped at a small little creek tucked away from the open park. You sat yourself on the ground and opened your bag, you had to fish out all your little gifts for the cats and handed him a can of cat food.

“Get ready, it's adorable.” You grasped the pull tab looking out across the grass and rocks.

Then pulled up the tab and unsealed the can. A series of loud meows and cries echoed around the trees as cats started locking their heads out of bushes and grass to find the food. You had a huge smile on your face and stood up to dump the food across the ground for them to fight over. You sprinkled and tossed some solid treats in the grass and across the rocks. Sometimes crows and ravens would eat them so you sat down and enjoyed watching the cats.

You gently stroked the kittens that climbed up your legs to grab your food. You playfully pushed the friendlier cats over and let them kick at your hands and naw on your fingers. The quiet man had let the cats rub along his sides scratching their heads. He said nothing but you’d sometimes catch him looking at you. You laughed holding a cat up to your face, and holding its paw so it looked like he was waving at the man.

“You know mister, a cute kitten such as myself, still doesn’t know your name.” You kissed the cat's head before placing him back on the ground. “But you obviously know mine, it’s quite unfair don’t you think?”

“Fetain,” he said, “Not unfair now.”

You laughed lightly and tossed him a water bottle, sifting through your bag to give him a simple sandwich and pulled out some snacks. The sun moved slowly pulling across the sky, shining down from the branches. The sun stippled across the grass, sparkling across the rocks of the creek, and curressing the kittens who were bathing in its warmth.

“It’s a shame you leave tonight.”

Your fingers plucked a fallen leaf from the ground, you rubbed your thumb across its veins, feeling the slight bumps. It was a smooth yellow, freshly fallen from the branches. It was leathery, and you loved its color. Staring at it left you feeling as if you had been gazing up at the sunrise, watching the sun scatter across the stream.

“I like this color.” You looked over at him, “reminds me of a sunrise, the white wispy clouds dyed this pale yellow and highlighting parts of the water…” you drew yourself into a melancholy silence, if you had a chance to watch the sunrise with him and the cats you would.

“Cheesy,” he huffed a small chuckle.

“I know I know, it’s gross and cheesy,” you rolled your eyes, “kinda looks like a cartoon cheese yellow, now that ya say that.”

“It’s getting late, sun's setting.”

“Oh, do you wanna be cheesy and watch it?” You wrapped your arms around your knees and looked over at him.

He didn’t say much of anything but leaned back onto his arms to watch alongside you. You pulled a friendly fur ball into your lap, and rubbed his little ears.

“I think my cat liked you, he’s pretty shy, but he seemed to like you.”

“He was cute.”

“Isn't he?” you laid down with a smile looking up at him. “I think he’d be cuddling with you in no time if you keep visiting.”

Saying goodbye was a bitter moment. You desperately didn’t want him to leave, you realized that you had become so isolated in your daily life. The momentary companionship had left a bittersweet taste, and the more you stayed hung up on it the more it felt like your teeth were rotting away from your overthinking. You tried to go out more after he left. You’d sit sketching the little creek you had shown him. If anything you felt yourself faced with an embarrassing block.

You repeated the same ideas, the same concepts but nothing felt complete, everything was missing something. There weren’t enough emotions maybe, or everything was too muddled together. Perhaps you were the problem and we’re trying too hard, or the idea wasn’t completed, and you were rushing it. Working through the block was a painful endeavor, you spent hours sitting and just listening to music, trying to let your mind wonder. Somewhere a seed of an idea was uncovered, a small fragile thing covered in a thin layer of dirt.

You rolled it between your fingers, the texture needed to be grooved, little threads feathering the figure. How can you capture the sorrow? How can you make something violent and graceful at once? You needed desperation in the figure, the hands needed to search for another that wasn’t there, it needed to feel both cruel and comforting, or maybe it would morph into something new, something that would take on its own life, becoming more than a painting filled with an empty heart. You found yourself transfixed on the eyes. They were the most detailed aspect, you found yourself drawn to them adding so much detail that every brush stroke was a reflection of yourself. When you had to cover it with a cloth, you knew you were succeeding.

You became haunted by the painting, its eyes followed you with that cruel pity. There was something foreboding with the way it giggled at you. You became absent minded with the time, forgetting to take care of yourself as you painted a nightmare of dependency. Having the eyes be such a focal point was a great idea and you were sure that it would look perfect when it was complete but it was just so gastly. It’s effect on you was proving how successful it was already though you had only been working for a short while.

You continued sleeping on your cheap futon while you worked passing out late into the morning and arising even later into the afternoon. Honestly you became too focused on work, ignoring your phone and missing the messages from that mysterious guy you think is cute not knowing he was visiting town again, honestly you should have been taking brakes and paying more attention.

When Fetain showed up at your door you were dressed in one of your painting shirts and left awkwardly without pants, since you had been neglecting your chores.

He stood staring at the painting as you folded your laundry, he would have sat down but the cat was fond of that chair. Fetain was drawn to the eyes too, or at least that’s what you guessed, he was staring intently at every little detail and it was nice if you had to be honest. He wasn’t someone you felt like you needed to look up to, not a teacher or a critic, or not that you know of at least, god you hope not, but he seemed genuinely interested in the ideas you had. Every concept seemed to make him think, the more abstract left him with open ended inferences, and there were a thousand ways one painting could inspire him. You sometimes see that shine in his eyes where he gets an idea. You never asked but you were starting to get curious about it.

“The eyes need to have more shadows.”

You waddled over folding a pair of pants, looking over his shoulder, “show me.”

The eye lids, you somehow missed that important detail and your shading was off. His hand pointed to the shoulder and the shoulder blades.

“Too sharp, and looks like they’re missing a lot of blood.”

“That’s not a bad idea actually, to purposefully make them look like that.” You leaned forwards holding your folded pants to your chest, you traveled your finger down the spine, “I could try to make these look sharper as if something like a knife is digging from the inside out? Do you think that would be too much?” You looked up at him.

“If you don’t like it you can always change it.”

You hummed in agreement, “I think I’ll try it and maybe I can make it look more bruised too.” You went back to folding your things thinking out loud about some of your n ideas under your breath.

“I’ll make food.”

“You really don’t have to do that you know, I appreciate it and I mean I love your cooking so I’m not going to say no it’s just, I feel a little awkward with a guest cooking, does that make sense?”

He nodded and started searching through your kitchen to get an idea of what you had. “I’ll still cook.”

There was something sweet about working on the painting as he cooked. You were jealous of his cooking, last time you had it it stuck in your thoughts. You’d be laying there and then shout out with annoyance as you could slightly taste it still, you could remember the way it melted on your tongue, you savored it and wished to rip into a newly made dish with the ferocity of a rabid dog. You felt like how you imagine your cat does when looking at an empty bowl and the empty box of treats that was mocking him.

You slowly went about putting your folded clothes back in the closet and your drawers. It was mundane but taking the break you needed was helping with preventing any sort of burn out. While you were in your room putting things away you just started wandering around and moving things that had been moved from their correct spots, you must have been looking for something and got distracted before fixing it. Some of your selves were getting dusty, you should wipe them down but you also needed to clean the bathroom.

You settled with staring in the bathroom, it would be less fun but it was needed more than the rest. You sorted through old makeup tossing out old products and things you hadn’t used in a while. You shuffled through spilt bandages boxes and your medicine cabinet. You scrubbed off the grime from the counters and the dust that had collected in the small corners.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Little spots and marks on the glass dotted across your reflection. You could tell that you’ve been doing nothing but working for days. Your skin thankfully wasn’t bad but you started the process of washing it and attempting to prevent acne from bubbling up worse in the few spots that were starting to get a little more irritated. If the visit that you had missed the warning of had ruffle your feathers you relaxed as you rinsed off your face. It was grounding in a way, basic self care that can easily be pushed to the side and missed in a rush, and the warm water comforted you in the chill of autumn.

You walked back out where that beautiful smell was strongest, pulling the knots and tangles out of your hair as you did. The pan was sizzling and you could hear it as you came around the corner. You’d tug on your hair and a series of pops from the stove would mimic you. Tug. Pop pop. Tug. Pop pop. Tug tug. Pop.

“It smells good.”

“Good it’s done.”

You ate mostly quietly, caught up too much on the distinct flavors, and a myriad of textures. You happily tried everything with a joy comparable to that of a puppy running so fast that it ends up stumbling into its mother's legs. When you bit down into something bitter your nose scrunched up, and your eyes closed. You whined a little at the surprise and made a little joke about how maybe you shouldn't trust his cooking after all. He rolled his eyes and slid you a piece of his meal that he knew you enjoyed much more than you had gotten to tell him.

“Eat and stop complaining.”

You saw a glimmer in his eye and laughed, taking a bite of his kindness.

You talked quietly on your futon, some random thing playing on tv to fill the background. You tended to mostly be the one talking, it's not that you minded but sometimes you questioned if you were boring him or if he wanted to say something. You just kept talking to him and convincing your cat to trust him a bit more. When you started getting a little sleepy he didn't mind, offering to do the dishes while you rested.

“Are you sure? You already did the-” you were cut off by your yawn, “cooking.”

“It's fine, sleep.”

“Okay, but at least let me put them away when I wake up.” you lay down, watching him walk to the kitchen, “I don't want you doing all of it,” and you slipped to sleep, with your cat crawling onto your back not too much later.

It felt fuzzy and it blurred together like watered-down acrylic. You saw him scrubbing away in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes dipped shut and when you pulled them apart half aware that you didn't want to sleep, he wasn't in the kitchen, he was walking around your home. He must have finished and wanted to let you sleep, you rationalized as you blinked asleep again. It felt so warm, so comforting to be asleep, but something was missing, something was off. You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, you just laid there, eyes closed half aware that something was wrong.

You heard your cat meow. It was low and drawn out. He was upset. What could be upsetting him? You vaguely remember reaching for him but couldn't remember if you found him or if he was doing better or not. You definitely didn’t know why he was upset, or if comfort is what he needed, but you still longed to stop his crying.

The room was different, you noticed that first. You nearly didn’t notice it, a lot of the room looked familiar, but the furniture wasn’t as distressed as the ones you had. There was no sticker from when you were a kid on the shelf on the bottom. The shelves were arranged the same and even had the same things that you had in yours. It felt like you woke up from a weird dream. The shelves of books had the books you were missing in series and even books you wanted to read.

You didn’t really believe it, your sheets were different but so alike at the same time. It was clearly an attempt to replicate it as best as possible. You tossed the blankets off of you panic slowly seeping in, you were so confused so lost, you could have sworn you were home asleep on your futon, but this looked eerily close to your room.

Where was your cat? Had he been left behind? What happened to Fetain? Where were you, and why the hell did it look so much like your room?

You looked under the bed finding your cat tucked away with one of your shoes. His front paws were wrapped around the toes and his head was resting on the ankle of the shoe. Relief for his well-being leaked through you as you called out his name like a whisper, desperate for him to truly show you he was alright. His big eyes opened wide and he yawned squeaking as he stretched out his limbs before crawling over to you. You combed your fingers through his fur, and he purred and mewled, letting you drag him up to your face and cradle him like a newborn. His warm soft and fluffy body grounded you as you looked around wide-eyed at the room, for an embarrassingly long time you just sat there frozen and confused in the corner wondering what was going on.

You desperately clung to him, pulling open the closet to see your clothes lose threads, stains, and all, but mixed in were clothes that weren't yours at all. You took laps around the room inspecting everything in sight. The shelves had things that were nearly impossible to replace and things you had thought were long gone. There was a bag near the bed and when you peeked inside there were more, little knick-knacks and trinkets, books with notes, and emotionally important gifts.

It felt like choking. Suffocating. A thousand things went wrong like a ship in a bottle tossed helplessly onto the shoreline with jagged rocks. You wanted to sob feeling as if you were being torn into a million pieces, scattered across the wind. You grabbed the door handle wondering if you should open it or if you should even try to see if it was locked. Should you be sitting in bed pretending to be asleep still? Behave and be good in the hopes that you don't get brutally murdered? There were too many options, and you twisted the door handle.

It opened easily and you looked out into a hallway. It was plain, sparse with nothing on the walls, there was nothing except the orange lights humming above you. There were voices down the hall you stared down towards them. Should you see who that is? Should you go back and tuck yourself back into the sheets? It was all so strange, standing in the doorway of the mimic of your room, looking around at an unfamiliar place.

You stepped tenderly across the carpet that seemed to you like glass. Each step made you feel like the floor creaked and groaned, splintering and cracking with each timid tiptoe. You felt so cold, shivering and quaking down the long looming hall. There was a loud frustrated yell, a curse, and a mocking laugh, you peered around the corner tucked into yourself.

Two men, both blondes, were sitting around a tv, a low table covered in marks and scratches was scattered with cans and cups. There were wrappers and chips, a standard mess of snacks and drinks that had piled up. The two blondes threatened each other as they focused intently on the TV screen playing some sort of shooter game. You looked across it all into a kitchen that needed a bit of a clean too, it was much better than the table but some take out boxes were set next to the trash can.

You didn’t know what to do. A thousand different emotions glued you to the floor, tears threatened to run lines down your cheeks until it melted through the meat of your cheeks. Oh how crying could provide comfort, to be swaddled up with a tub of something sweet, and to whail to some cute comfort show. It was cruel, to be standing there like a statue, but as fragile as a newborn. You couldn’t do anything but someone could easily hurt you and make horrible nightmares cling like phantoms. Even worse they’ll be true and real digging claws to your skin and sinking down into muscle and bone.

You retreated back, tucking yourself around the corner. The sweet boy that was your cat mewled and squirmed digging his claws into your shoulder, as a toddler would try to stabilize itself in a parents’ arms. How many times would things go wrong?

You scattered backwards down the hall, the two blondes turning around the corner to see you standing not too far from them. You didn’t say anything to them, you couldn’t. There was nothing to do, you just kept backing up, holding on desperately to your cat, trying not to hurt him, but also it felt like you were holding a stuffed animal at this point.

“Where am I? Who are you?” it felt like you were choking, a plastic bag forced over your head as you were left gasping and sputtering for air almost. “Why am I here?” You felt like you were shouting but it was nothing more than a whisper, and your mind was reeling and spinning, a hurricane tore through your thoughts as you spiraled and gapped for air.

It became so hard to breathe, too difficult to try to stay calm and hold back the tears. You were shaking and panting, your chest rising and falling faster than a ball would bounce. It was horrible losing your thoughts as fear and panic overtook you. It became hard to know what was going on, and hard to stay standing as the floor seemed to sway and rock like the deck of a boat. The two men seemed a little shocked. One looked more awkward than anything.

You shook your head frantically, and stepped back like a dog in a corner. You were scared and everything just came imploding into you. When the cat squirmed out of your arms you were so lost and confused that you didn’t reach for him again, you watched him hide in the room you woke up in with a glassy and far away look. Somehow it felt like your body wasn’t yours, a doll tossed and strewn about the floor, left to be picked up by the next kid to come across you. Yet you laid there sobbing, shaking your body, and your face boiling as you cried. It must have been a pathetic sight, a desperate and lonely picture.

You didn’t fight more than a gentle push at one of the men's faces, as one picked you up from your puddle on the floor. It wasn’t like you even recognized which one it was, there was nothing you could do. The act was nothing more than a bleeding mouse trying to push away a cat. Nothing useful would come of it, it was a last act of defiance, a testament to freedom, and a symbol that you didn’t approve of this, that it was thrusted upon you by someone else. It was nothing more than that, but it boiled and evaporated just as fast as your emotions spilled over. You yawned through tears but leaned into the hold, because everyone needs comfort over everything else.

Fetain was like a shadow. He stood out in the room, the bright pale walls and the curious oddities of your old home made him look like a monster. He didn’t so much as speak a word along the lines of “good morning” just sat in a chair pulled back from the desk, with one of your books in hand. You knew it was your book, it’s hard to mimic the bite marks along the bottom corner of the first ten pages or so. You remember getting it to, remember reading it for the first time. You loved the book, but part of your confused mind knew that you shouldn’t like him reading it, or the fact that your cat was curled up on his lap.

Your cat was always shy, friendly enough that he would never hiss, scratch, or bite without a serious reason for it. He was easily spooked by strangers, always dashing away when they towered over him and reached down to pet him. He preferred watching them really, gazing down from atop the cabinets, or from across the room. When strangers were over sometimes you couldn’t even convince him to let you hold him he was so scared. Yet seeing him there on his lap, in this unfamiliar place pissed you off.

“Where am I?”

“Home, doesn’t matter where.” He didn’t look up, he scratched under your cat's chin.

“Bullshit. Why the hell am I here?” You pushed yourself up, hovering over the side of the bed, as if you could somehow intimidate him.

“I brought you home.”

You jumped up, the sheets and blankets falling like water across the floor. They followed your movements like an afterimage, leaving a trail in your wake. You grabbed his wrists forcing the damned book from his hands, letting it fall to your feet. The cat looked up at you, wide eyes, and his ears straight up in the air.

“What do you want?” It was despairing, a whisper and a plea.

You were so tired yet, exhausted by the weight of your emotions and the stress of it all. Your grip was pathetic at best, but it was desperate. Some last attempt at consoling, a final prayer for comfort, as you fell to your knees, and rested your head on the cat's stomach. You still held his wrists but now there was no fight, just proof that he was there and that it was his doing.

“You,” he said, the answer to your question that you already knew. His hand fell to your head, his fingers massaging your scalp, “I want you to paint for me.”

“Is that why?”

“Yes, and more.”

Your arms fell to your sides and you looked up at him, and his hands moved to your cheeks, pinning you gently in place so he could study your face.

“Others won't hurt you, they like you. You grow to like them too.”

You gripped his sleeve, as you fought back another sob, leaning forward so your nose was inches above his knees. The sob jumped in your chest and bounced around, but you never wailed, only gasped as he moved to hold your hand.

MALL SANTA | gojo

Taglist: @nutheadgeenat @4evahevah @mangayeager @roronoazorosbxtchh @honeyxluv @erensluut @lona2444 @afrooooo.bby @sirenh4ll @bkgsbabycake @ellerium @si00p @glz-100 @rav3nmuse @hoohoohope @xoxoluvrr @v-arbie

Warnings/tags: (18+ MINORS DNI) cockwarming, lap sitting, dirty talk, santa dress up, sex, slight fluff at the start, slight/small dry humping

notes: i was actually supposed to have posted this yesterday?? but yeah. bolder accounts wouldn’t let me tag them

It has all started because your sister couldn’t make it. You had no problem with it, you loved your niece and promised to get a million pictures of her with Santa.

But this Santa… had all the moms blushing and the fathers sneering, he sounded very young but still oh so jolly. But it was really once you saw him, that made you understand it all.

He wasn’t the usual mall Santa, that was for sure. This one had dazzling blue eyes, even behind the fake glasses and white beard, he had a completely handsome face with a perfect nose. He looked more like a model than Santa, his red pantsuits wasn’t hiding his toned and strong body.

You niece climbed up, her bouncy hair filled with red bows and white barrettes, with a big smile she hugged him and Santa couldn’t help but laugh. An obviously fake sugary sweet gruffly voice said, “I hear you’ve been a good girl this year, hm?”

Flustered and too shy, your niece nodded. He cooed, “It’s okay sweetheart,” You snapped a few pictures of them before motioning for her to talk to him.

Your niece quickly whispered in his ear and his eyes widened a bit before he pulled back and looked deep in thought. “I’ll see what I can do.” He winked at you.

You blinked, no…Santa, he wasn’t being flirty with you was he? You barely had time to think about it when someone ran up to you.

Your brother-in-law breathing heavily and almost on his hands and knees said, “Sorry, had to drop your sister off and honesty didn’t think I’d make it in time. But I’m glad I made it just in time.” He was really out of breath. “What did she say she wanted?”

“She whispered it in his ear. I think she’s on to you guys.” You watched as his face palmed and muttered a quiet “fuck”.

“I’ll just ask Santa, it’s fine.” You told him, he moved to get his daughter off of Santa’s lap and taking her off of your hands, you waved them off and moved closer to Santa.

“Think you could tell me what she wanted?” Wrapping an arm around yourself you noticed the line was empty, which was odd.

“Ah.” He patted his lap. “I only take request from right here. So, care to sit?” He was looking at you so intensely and you couldn’t help but to obey him.

You sat there, stiff and unmoving. “Please Mr. Clause.” Batting your lashes like a child. Rolling your shoulders back, you crossed your legs with a coy smile.

“Are you flirting with Santa? You naughty little girl…” He gripped your thigh. “Y’know, I might have to take you to the North Pole with me if you keep it up.” He quipped his eyebrows.

You giggled a bit, “I just need to know what she said, so please?”

His gloved hands felt soft against your skin, “A cousin.”

Your skin boiled instantly and all you wanted was to fight your niece. She’s a child yes but for her to say this… to let this handsome man know you were not only single but to make it as if you were so desperate.

So what if you were her only aunt on both sides and she was an only child. She had no right. Your skin felt hot all over. Embarrassed wasn’t even the word.

And here you are flirting with him.

“I-“ He shushed you and raised a brow. “I told her I’ll see what I can do. Let me be true to my word, hm?”

You were about to fuck Santa Clause.

A man you didn’t know. You were always so overly cautious and responsible. Maybe you needed a walk on the wild side. You swallowed, “Yeah?”

“I should let you know, the name’s Satoru.” He pulled off his outfit, his glasses and the beard. “Not Santa, but I still have a thing for cute girls sitting on my lap.” He kissed your nose.

He was being oddly affectionate. The soft touches, the looks, now the kissing. You were still sitting on his lap just now you were in his hotel room.

Apparently he didn’t live here, just here doing a favor. But that wasn’t important, what was important was how he easily slid you out of your white shirt and groaned at the sight.

“Such a lovely present…” He wasn’t even done unwrapping you yet. Your brown perky nipples stood at his attention. He wrapped his tongue around one and used his fingers to massage the other. You groaned, feeling the wetness on your small breast. You jerked your hips, wanting to feel something against your core.

You didn’t want to be clingy but you wanted to kiss him. A small whimper came from your mouth when he jerked his hips upward, moving your hips back and forth against his own. He smiled, a bright smile.

He made the first move to kiss. His tongue exploring your mouth in the hottest way, biting at your lips and his fingers twisting your nipples. You couldn’t think, not with his silk boxer covered bulge was pressed so softly on your clit.

“Satoru fuck me already, no more teasing.” You whispered, embarrassed. Why was he doing this to you? It was obvious it had been a while since your last time being with anyone.

He laughed at your expression and took your face in his hands. “Okay, sweetheart.” He kissed you again, no tongue just a long press to your mouth. Then he dropped his boxers and you gasped.

So big, thick and long. A nice blue vein bulging on the side and it curved perfectly as it stood staring back at you. A white bead of precum decorated the tip. Your mouth watered and you knew you looked greedy. “Had a feeling you’d love how my dick look. But you’ll love it even more when it’s inside of you, won’t you baby?” His voice laced with cockiness, but it made you smile.

“We’ll see.” You laid back on the comfy bed with a smile. Your hair sprawled underneath you and your body completely nude, you never felt so exposed around a man.

He stood between you and spread your legs for you, waiting you drip wetness down your own legs. He tapped his tip to your aching clit and watched you shake. He reached behind him and said, “Open.” Placing the condom foil between your lips, stroking himself over your slippery cunt, getting both of you wet enough. When he could barely stand it and when your whimpers made him feel bad for withholding you from it. He took the condom from your lips and ripped it open, being gentle with putting it on himself — trying too hard not to come.

“Look at me. Look at me when I fuck you baby, when I’m inside.” He saw the hazy look in your brown eyes as they looked from his face to between your thighs, he almost lost it. Slamming his hips into yours, your back arched at a perfect angle.

“So good. Oh it’s so good.” Your legs wrapped around him and you pulled him closer. He barely moved, grabbing your wrists and pushing forward, moaning with you. You were so wet and he could feel it, your wetness dulling the effect of the condom.

He gently rubbed at your clit, watching your legs shake around him, then you rolled your hips silently begging for more of him. “You want all of me?” He didn’t await a response before he thrust fully inside of you, laying his hand on your shoulder.

It felt too good inside of you. Warm. Tight. Squeezing him for everything he had. Jerking more inside of you, he licked up your collarbones. Your nails embedded in his back when he slammed inside, fucking you like you deserved.

Every time he slammed inside of you, you could hear every bit of wetness that he fucked out of you and that was what made your walls flutter around him. He was going so fast and go deep, you couldn’t keep up with him. You just laid there and took it, even when your legs couldn’t hold on to him anymore, he held them for you and drove into you like a madman.

He was going so fast that he slipped out with a “oh fuck.” He drug himself up and down your wet slit, nudging your clit a few times in the process, your pussy clenched around nothing and he smiled. “Ready?” He didn’t give you any time to think about it before he pushed back inside, groaning. When he entered, a small bit of wetness squirted out of you and he didn’t stop his fast thrust until his lower abdomen was covered in wetness.

“I’m going to cum, S-satoru.” He teased your clit by rubbing sensual small circles with his fingers.

“Give it to me baby, fucking cum from my dick.” Your body seized up and even more squirt came out of you when he jerked up and you could feel him swell up inside of you before his body stilled. With a low moan he came, chest heaving and body hot.

Still too sensitive, he stayed inside of you and pulled you up. “Sit on my lap.” He flipped you over and he tapped your nose. “So tell Santa, what you think about your niece’s request?” He rubbed your back and you laid your head on his chest.

“Well, if you’re in town after Christmas and up for anything and maybe even a bit more than…” You clenched around him and he did a tense smile. “Then, we can see…” You did a shy smile, inviting a stranger to have a baby with you? you just wanted him to actually come inside of you, you wanted it bad. It’s been too long… and you wouldn’t be mad if your baby had all his features. He was gorgeous.

“We’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

T-this is wonderful, legit need more regardless to whether it’ll end in angst or romance

Soft, White Cotton (18+) Toji x Reader

Content Warning: Contains N/S/F/W / matured content. Please read at your own risk.

Lolita's note: I am so stressed and my schedule is packed. Perhaps writing a Toji smut would help me soothe my mood?

"You know you look like a hooker waiting for his client standing there." You walked towards the man standing by your car in the office's parking lot. Toji scoffs in reply.

"Are you embarrassed then?" He taunts.

You glance back at two of your co-workers who exchanged confused and shocked looks. They're probably thinking that you ー the most excellent worker in your department, who have received tons of praises and awards ー have stooped so low to see a deadbeat man every night and fuck him.

"If I am, then I would've declined your drink at the bar and called you a loser wishing for a good cunt." You bit back.

"Huh, touché." Toji laughs as he opens the car door for you.

You don't know how exactly you ended up in this situation. You were sure that you only wanted him for a night and that would be all. But when you woke up the next morning and saw him fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel covering the lower regions of his body, you knew that this wouldn't be just a one-night stand.

I mean, he is hot. Nice body. Big dick. Fucks good. Wears a condom upon request.

And if you force your way out of his inhibitions, you can take a shower peacefully after sex.

And tonight is just one of those days. You want himー no, you need himー after a long day of exhausting work.

The moment both car doors were closed he was all over you. He kissed you everywhere. You felt his scar grazing your soft lips and his tongue prying its way to open it. It felt hot, sloppy and impatient.

You hummed through the kiss as he pulls you on top of him, squeezing your ass tightly with his big hands.

"You're pretty fired up today, doll. Bad day at work?" Toji whispers to your ear as one of his hands snake under your skirt to palm your wetness, agonizingly slow.

You were about to say something when he suckled a hickey on your neck and inserted two fingers inside of you ー and you can't help but moan at the sudden, satisfying pain that were all too familiar to you by now.

Even though practically, you can't get used to it. You can't get used to him. You can't get used to how big he is.

"Please, just- just decide where we can do it." You breathed shakily. But Toji ignored you, wiped your smeared lipstick and unbuttoned your blouse, smirking in refusal.

He was about to rip it off (as he always does) when he noticed something different.

"Oh? White lace?" He asks, brows raised in curiosity.

"For fuck's sake, if you don't like it then we can stop. And it's not just lace. It's cotton with lace frills."

Toji laughs, and you can't tell if he mocks you or appreciates the thought of you putting this white lingerie set for him.

Why did you even do that anyway? It's not like you two share something serious. Maybe it's because you still want to keep him around. After all, the sexual compatibility between both of you is through the roof so it's more than enough for you to be satisfied.

Or at least that's what you thought.

It's not like I'm having thoughts of insecurity and shit like he'll get bored of me-

Toji puts you back on your seat and looks at your state, deep in thought.

"By any chance, did you wear this for me?"

That's all it took for you to kiss him again to save face from embarrassment.

"You're a mess." He chuckles. You scoff at that.

The drive back to your house was tense as fuck. Toji kept caressing your thigh with a smile on his face and you did your best to keep a straight face but to no avail.

Toji carried you with your legs wrapped around his torso and kissed you rough as you make your way to your bedroom. He then laid you down on your bed and proceeded to undress your wrinkled office uniform.

"Wait, I forgot something." You tell him, pushing him away from you as you walk to the bathroom.

You can hear him groan slightly but he obliged.

"I'll be right back."

When you came out wearing white thigh highs and the cotton-lace lingerie he clearly loved, Toji rose from his seat and pushed you roughly on the bed, again. To think that this night has been a series of déjà vu is laughable. But then again, how many times did he handle you roughly like this?

And how many times did you love it?

"I'm going to say this once. You look beautiful." Toji pushes away a strand of hair from your face.

"That's… oddly sweet of you. You're usually not like that." You chuckle.

Toji leans down at you and kisses your forehead, then your nose, then the either sides of your cheeks, and then your lips.

It's… intimate?

You want to say something but you figured it will ruin the mood. The man then cups your breasts and slowly unclasps your bra. A pop echoed lightly in the room when his lips left your neck as he trailed open mouthed kisses down to your tits.

Your thighs couldn't help themselves so you, in a growing pathetic state, start to rub them seeking relief as the wet patch on your panties grew bigger.

You practically grinded yourself up his cock as your wanton moans sweetly laced your room.

"Stay still for me darlin'. I want t' enjoy the feast you prepared for me." You want to laugh at his choice of words but you know he's being serious.

And so you obliged.

Like the bratty, but pliant little thing you are.

Toji carefully removed your panties and dragged his hands up and down your clothed legs, admiring the softness of the socks hugging your skin just the way he likes.

Huh, maybe he does like this after all.

The first lick was soothing. It was slow, but deliberate that it was almost romantic. Toji took his time and basked in your wet warmth ー in which you responded with content moans and closed eyes.

"Fuck… just like that."

His slow licks gradually became faster and you can feel his tongue switch from lapping at your clit and prying at your entrance.

"T-Toji… ah… w-wait…!"

Sex with him drives you insane.

You feel him smile beneath you as he continues his ministrations. You rock your hips up to his face to meet him and the rhythm of his tongue-fucking. Then just when you're reaching your climax he inserts two fingers and thrusts into you so quick you can hear the squelches of your pussy get louder.

"I'm close…!"

"Not yet, doll. C'mere, wanna feel ya inside me."

You whine at the abrupt orgasm denial but you did your best to wait for him patiently as he takes off his clothes.

Toji holds you by your waist and you take his cock in your hands as you grind your slit on it.

"Can I… suck on it?"

"I'm not in the mood for teasing, doll."

And with that he lifts you up and slams you on his cock, eliciting a lewd moan from you. You pawed on his back and suckled on his jaw as he uses your ass to fuck into you ruthlessly.

You really can't get enough of him.

It doesn't matter who he is or what he does. It doesn't matter if he's even a societal outcast or someone dangerous. It doesn't matter that you really don't know much about him outside sex.

Maybe you're abusing this, but what you know for yourself and what matters to you is that he's here, body entangled with you.

"T-Toji… fuck… so good!" You scream with wanton as he continues fucking you, cock diving into your warmth all the way to his hilt.

He holds your face and kisses you ー tongues dancing with each other. Your moans were muffled as he gives your breasts with a harsh squeeze, then he sucks on your nipple as if his life depended on it.

You find it funny sometimes ー how two strangers can share so little time with each other yet have sexual chemistry so intense one would think you've been married for years.

"A-aah! Shit, w-wait…!" You held onto him tighter and wrapped your legs around him as he folds you suddenly to a mating press, the sudden change of position stinging your already trembling body.

You closed your eyes and envisioned your juices coating your sexes ー a white ring of cum forming on Toji's cock ー

And you can't help but tighten around him.

"Fuck, what are you up to?" Toji's sweat trickles down your chest as he pushes into you harder, deeper and faster. You can't help but admire how much of sex machine the man above you is, that it almost makes you feel envious.

You clench around him tighter.

Toji rocks into you deeper.

"Get up, I need your hair." Toji flips you onto your stomach and lifts your ass up to him.

"Wh-what-"

Before you can even finish asking, he holds your hair and buries your head onto the mattress and ruts into you again. The squelches of your fucking echoes as skin slaps ー it was too erotic.

Your mind grows hazy as he practically treats you like his own personal fucktoy.

His other hand rubs your clit in rhythm with his fucking and you chant his name again and again ー all in the name of pleasure.

"Can't tighten around me now, huh? What, are ya losin' strength?" Toji mocks you and swats your hand away when you try to reach for his arms.

You prayed that whatever position he puts you in next, it would be the last because gods, you can't take this anymore.

As if the heavens heard your prayers, Toji shifted yourselves again in another position, a nelson.

He held your breasts and you grabbed on his burly arms as you fuck each other to oblivion.

Well, at least he does.

"Mmph! Oh my god! Faster, please!" No, you didn't want more. But your body betrays you.

Every single damn time.

"So, you're praisin' me now, huh. I always love your choice of words, doll." Toji groans into your ear as his pace starts to falter.

It's unfair. How this happens all the time. It's unfair that he can only treat you like this. You're too fragile to even land a single crack in him.

"Oh my…! S-slow down! Please…I'm close." You reach for him for a kiss and he gives it to you. He even starts to praise you and whisper sweet nothings to your ear saying how pretty you are and how good you feel ー in which he'd never done before.

And that's when you decided that he's awfully giving today.

You feel yourself squirt and your white, cotton socks were drenched. Toji doesn't stop at that. He continues to fuck you, seeking his own release.

"Gotta be a good girl and stay still for me."

His cum was white, warm and thick. You could practically feel it drip out of you as he pulls out.

Toji kisses your forehead and chuckles. Yet another endearing gesture that's unusual coming from him.

"You told me once that I have nothing special about me but my body. Well, I think I'm starting to believe it." He says out of the blue.

"Where did that come from?" You ask, confused.

Toji lays you down and stays beside you, with a look on his face you once again cannot read.

You both stay like that for a while, admiring each other in silence. Though you wish you could talk about your lives more.

But no, sex is sex. Sex will always be sex. That's all there is to it. You think to yourself.

Toji caresses your face once again, a content smirk displayed on his face. You can't help but do the same to him, admiring his rugged body ー his rugged heart.

"I should clean up." You say, making your way to the bathroom.

You wonder what changed between the two of you today.

ー Lolita

And you wonder if this can do you more harm than any good.

I really enjoyed this series, it has romance, drama, and smexy times~

Better in Love

Bodyguard!Toji x Brat!FemReader (Historical AU)

Series Summary:  you’re the daughter of a feudal lord, and Toji becomes your bodyguard. then, you fall in love

Chapters: 5/5

Status: Completed Tags/Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI

mentions of violence, nudity, teasing, pet names, good old fashioned tension, takes place in historical/feudal japan eraish (pls don’t hold me to this, i’m sorry i just like the aesthetic), deep talk, slight angst, trapped in a small space trope, slight angst, airport chase scene but a ferry instead, straight up sex lmao, like oral sex (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dom/sub, praise/slight degrading kink, one mention of cervix fucking, dacryphilia, dirty talk, pet names, begging, toji likes talking to the kitty okay, he also gets pussydrunk!, dumbification, corniness, reassurance, cuddling ‘n’ kissin xoxo

Author's Notes: based on this fanart 💞 💞💞 enjoy dilftoji<3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

Love this, like I kinda want them to get back together but I also like what she and Yuji has going on

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𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪, 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

Chapter 1: You are a single mother to Megumi and erotic fiction writer. You had asked his father, Toji, to pick up Megumi for you so you could continue writing and meet your deadline. Except when you answer the door, you find yourself with Megumi's teacher, Yuuji, instead.

Chapter 2: Toji is trying to ask for a second chance, but why now after all these years?

Chapter 3: Yuuji left his wallet, which prompts him to offer to help you take Megumi to and from school. You decide to thank him by buying him dinner, and you don't take no for an answer.

Chapter 4: Yuuji is ready and waiting for your date with Megumi spending the night at a neighbor's. After a bit of a rocky start... Yuuji spends the night.

Content Warnings: dubcon kinda, degredation, more or less hate sex, squirting, cervix fucking, Cockwarming, creampie, iloveyous, etc. Very soft sex honestly

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Part 5

𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪, 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

Premise: Summary courtesy of CallaLily9 on AO3

   Toji being interested in Megumi and being a sweet dad, but also has 2 side chicks, but is interested in his (ex) wife’s writing and reading their love story, but is a dirty brute, but also wants to have the chance to rekindle their relationship, but may also let her peg him?!    WHAT A ROLLERCOASTER.    We need Yuuji back expeditiously, I’m starting to love her and Toji 😅 They’re toxic, why am I supporting this?

CW: cervix fucking, Cockwarming, creampie, iloveyous, edging, talks of pegging, dryhumping, making love, edging, some drinking

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