#the brain worms need fed

[resident-rats]

Resident Evil Summer 2023 i miss you babygirl </33

[junipers-insects]

Are they friends

The

Fell Papyrus and Fell Flowey

Are they

Are they not friends

What is going on here

This is a cry for help

[ahalliance]

my roman empire is that one moment smth smth qsmp lore happened and étoiles responded to a chat message by saying smth along the lines of “bah baghera me fait pas confiance” and laughed tersely but i can’t remember when that fucking happened and maybe i hallucinated it . but i need to try and find it again . to satiate my qetoiles qbagz relationship and larger qfrench messy family dynamic illness

[jacksprostate]

I consider Tyler's permanency in the narrator's psyche to be equivalent to that one bobbit worm

[merakiui]

hypothetically, i write a sequel to "mother" and hypothetically it's titled "father" and hypothetically it's my excuse to write pregnant sex with yan!scara (among other soft things because mr. mouchey can put aside his frightening nature in favor of being sweet but only to you <3).

all hypotheticals, of course. :)

[starryluminary]

All this total drama and I’m drawing bowigi…….. oops

[katamarigender]

Wow I forgot how much I love the season 1 opening.

[heartfullofleeches]

augh,,, fletcher and his foxboy malewife have given me brain worms, i love both of them so much,,,, , how does the town adjust to fletcher's new spouse?

The town is cautious of outsiders, even moreso of predator hybrids. The only way they're accepted/allowed is if they pull their own weight - or if they're married/close to to a trustworthy person in the town who can vouch for them. Fletcher is one of most valued members of the community considering it's his farm that keeps majority of them fed so when he tell the whole story to friends and family about how his wife was just a poor, starving fox who needed a helping hand and a loving heart they welcome Fox Reader.

There are still those who despise Fox Reader reader for their thieving ways, but they never dare to vocalize their issues. Both because Fletcher is the farmer, and because he can get pretty scary when he's upset. The sheriff is the only one who's allowed to run his mouth when Fetch is around because the sheriff raised him and is known for his "tough love."

Fletcher doesn't want his wife to lift a fiber around the house, but he does teach Fox boy a few dessert recipes he knows are a hit around town and has them past the treats to neighbors to further thin out any bad blood.

-

"One carrot pudding, please."

Picking up one of the readily made serving cups from your tray, you grab next a plastic spoon and a napkin - passing it all off to the hare before you. "One carrot pudding! Sorry about trampling your flowers that one time...."

Beats of sweat pour down your face - tenderly dabbed away by your attentive husband and that old rag he carries around in his pocket. "Good boy.. We're making wonderful progress. Can ya believe my sweetheart did all this baking by themselves?"

His claims had some merit. The stray glares within the crowd liquified the second those still wary of you had a bite of the peace offerings you had whipped up. It was hard to be afraid you with such a large rabbit keeping a close eye on you, but they still had their suspicions. If this keeps up, you'll be a welcomed member of the community in no time.

"Mm... I'll say - might want to keep an eye on that wife of yours. I could use someone around my place who can baking as good as you, Fetch."

A joke, clearly - but someone doesn't seem to get the memo.

Your husband's eyes narrow, a protective arm flying around your shoulders. 'Get the fuck off our property before I have you carried out in a body bag."

[guppybibi]

𖦹 pairing: John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think

𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, posted this later than expected

The phrases “I’m hungry” or “I’m starving" will practically be non-existent to you once you get together with John. You, his missus, hungry? Oh we just can't have that, that's as bad as the world getting striked by a humongous meteor! He needs to make sure his beloved missus is well fed, what kind of husband is he if otherwise?

Don't even move, he's already mixing up a bunch of different ingredients to make some sort of Scottish concoction that's usually either a hit or miss for your personal taste. The next second, you're getting a spoonful of whatever he made stuffed in your mouth.

So when he sees you reject the airplane of food whooshing towards your mouth, a baffled look is on his face. He swore he heard your stomach grumble, he's positive! “Urr ye nae hungry, bonnie? Ah swear ah heard yer tummy rumbling.” He gulped, setting the bowl and utensils aside and going right over next to you.

“I’m alright, not hungry today.” You snappily reply, as if a worm was in your brain telling you to chop-chop. Turning your head over to the TV, you leave Johnny to purse his lips in disapproval. Did you not like the food he made? No, you would've directly told him that. His mind starts to wander, like it was on an adventure to find out what was wrong. Though the grumbling of your stomach pulls him out of his thoughts, alerting the big red ‘worry’ button in his mind.

“Did ah dae somethin’ wrong?” He quizzes, nuzzling his face into your neck. The feeling of his warm breath fanning against your neck making you twitch a bit, but not enough to water down your fiery anger. “You ate the last pudding cup, John MacTavish.” You answer straightforwardly, looking at him right in the eye. Uh ohh..This wasn't good. If he was afraid of anything it wouldn't be guns and explosions, (Though he still flinches at the sound of fireworks sometimes, don't tell anyone that. It's confidential information.) it’d be his angry missus.

“O-oh..did ah, bonnie?” His voice faltering, the sweat beading at his forehead betraying him as it clearly showed his nervousness at the moment. “Don't act stupid, MacTavish! I saw the plastic cup in the bin!” You shout back in an accusatory tone, your brows furrowing while you point at him. If he was a puppy, his ears would be down right now. You could even visualize it, with the way he was pouting his lips in guilt there was no doubt about it.

“C’mon i’m sorry, bonnie..i didnae mean tae eat it, 'twas in th' fridge fur lik' a week.” He apologizes sincerely, gentle eyes all over you. “Ah thought ye didnae waant it anymair.” His expression and tone was making it hard for you to stand your ground, it was blowing out the burning wick of the candle that existed at the back of your mind.

“Forgive me, please?” The Scot pleads, noticing that you were giving in. It was the perfect time to start using the puppy eyes on you. You couldn't stay mad at him for long, even if you wanted to. “Fine..” And with that, he's all over you. Kissing every region of your face affectionately, he really was like a puppy. You could imagine a fluffy little tail wagging right now.

“Ah promise tae buy ye mair puddin..” He was for sure going to keep that promise.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 11.0k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! actor!au, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), oral (f!receiving), ooc Toji (no, really!!)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This is very self-indulgent because I was once again infected with brain worms because of this post.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

Toji is a typecast kind of actor. He started out as just a guy they call in when they need some muscle. He’s got the training for all sorts of things. Martial arts, swordplay. If a background character needs to look believably menacing, he’s the one to get on contract. And over time his bit parts as henchman number three and thug with one line slowly evolved into something more involved, because there is no denying that Toji has a face for film. Eyes that come with a vulpine sharpness, like he knows something you don’t, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that’s as marketable as any beauty mark. Really, he looks mean, but that’s exactly what a villain is supposed to look like. He’s all harsh angles that any photographer would kill to work with. So he slowly builds up a filmography from the most insignificant masked goon to a formidable kingpin, front and center. Goes from an uncredited extra to damn near top billing as a main antagonist and that’s just fine with him when the bigger roles come with a paycheck to match. It’s not anything new for him. Toji spent his whole life fighting and training. How else could he make all those stunts look so easy? It’s only right that he makes a career out of all those grueling days of harsh conditioning. And it sweetens the deal when he finally finds his girl. 

Every villain needs arm candy. It’s a constant revolving door of pretty faces standing next to him whenever the director yells “action!” So many that they begin to blend together in his mind and he spends interviews bullshitting his way through any thoughts regarding his female co-stars. “She was fine, I guess.” And of course, he thinks she did a great job in that movie he’s never seen. Empty platitudes to satisfy the interviewer and keep his manager happy that he’s playing nice about the tedious media circuit. Usually his roles don’t require that much attention to detail. He’s coasted this far on his graveled voice and dour expressions, so he never bothers to pay more than the bare minimum of attention. He learns his line and character names. He knows who the blonde character named Amy is but without the blindingly bright platinum hair he couldn’t pick the actress that played her out of a lineup. So it makes his life a lot easier when they find him a girl that works. 

Something about charisma and chemistry. All the buzzwords he’s fed over conference calls boil down to you being his girl. The perfect match for his onscreen persona. Real pretty with just enough training that you can fill in on most of your own stunts. So it makes sense when the two of you start cropping up as a package deal. If there’s an action movie in need of a big bad, Toji’s name is put forward, and if he needs a girl–and, sometimes, even when he doesn’t–his people are quick to toss your name into the ring. He’s not sure on the details, if your agents have worked out some kind of joint agreement or if it’s just coincidence that all the casting directors settle on you as his opposite but he’s not complaining. 

You’re real easy on the eyes in a way that goes beyond basic celebrity standards. You don’t look standard. The other girls he’s worked with were standardized. All coming in the same kind of package, but with you he can pick out true individual features. He can tell when the makeup artists fuck around with your eyebrows and overdoes your lipstick. Maybe it’s ’cause he’s always looking at you nowadays, but it might also just be how gorgeous you are. Of course he wants to know what such a pretty girl looks like. It’s one of the perks of the profession and Toji is nothing if not selfish about almost everything. He’s not acting for the art, it just gives him the biggest payout at the end of the day. He likes his bank account with a ridiculous amount of zeros and it just so happens that you come along with that. 

He can’t see why his manager is suddenly complaining when your names start getting tossed around in tandem more often than not. Why shouldn’t Toji date you if he wants to? And he wants to. But apparently he’s supposed to maintain a certain aura in the media. Mean and unapproachable. Which he is. There’s plenty of videos of him manhandling the paparazzi to attest to that. But that means he’s gotta be something unobtainable, and making heart eyes–he’s definitely not doing anything like that–at his favorite little co-star is certainly the opposite of unobtainable. 

He tries to be pragmatic about it, saying he’s just keeping in character. Mean to everyone but his girl. But his manager isn’t going for that. Something about your people using him for clout since he’s got a few years of experience on you as the new kid on the block. Still Toji can’t see the problem. This whole damn industry is built on connections and favoritism so why can’t he help you a little if he wants to. The mere mention of his lack of concern has Shiu groaning, the sound chopped up and drawn out by a poor connection. 

“You’re my most difficult client, do you know that?” The man sighs like he’s trying to wrangle a toddler into behaving. 

“I’m your only client.” Toji reminds him, earning a scowl through the laptop screen. 

“And whose fault is that?” Shiu sounds so put out that Toji doesn’t bother entertaining the idea that it’s anything other than his fault. Somehow. Even though it was Shiu that approached him after he spent a couple years as a free agent that productions had to play phone tag with to book. Now he’s at least a little serious about this whole acting thing, but Shiu wasn’t there from the start so he gets what he gets. An insanely marketable asset if the only thing you want to be known for is managing the big, scary guy in every action movie out in the past few years. In pigeonholing himself into what he’s good at, Toji has tied Shiu’s hands but that’s not really his issue. Especially not when he’s pissing him off, telling him to stop talking nice to you. 

“All I’m saying is a little discretion would be highly appreciated.” Toji nods like he’s taking his manager’s words to heart but he knows there’s not much the man can do without shooting himself in the foot by pissing off the only person he’s got on contract. 

The people wanna see the two of you together. Toji wants to see the two of you together. And you’re not putting up a fuss about seeing him on every set you show up to. The only person upset with the arrangement is Shiu, and Toji barely listens to anything the man says in the first place. So when you let slip during a break to reset a scene that you’re going through the audition process for some indie thriller starting up production he’s quick to piece together enough information to get himself in the door of an audition without Shiu knowing. You’re new enough that you’ve never had anyone else as your love interest and something cocky and maybe a tad bit possessive in him wants to keep it that way. He likes how the two of you look together, so why ruin a good thing by letting someone else work with you when you already work so well together? And you just have to look so happy to see him when the final cast is announced. 

Here you come, all smiles and newly dyed hair, asking why he didn’t tell you he was trying for a part, too, and he just shrugs to keep from telling a lie. Because the truth is he wasn’t supposed to be trying for a role but like clockwork a villain was needed and he showed up to fill the spot. And it works out in his favor because he’s not here to play some one note guy with a gun. Instead he’s playing a psychopath or sociopath–he’s still not a hundred percent on the difference but you explained that there definitely is a difference–and it just so happens that his character is obsessed with you. Shiu made a snide comment about “a little on the nose, isn’t it,” when the first script came through but Toji elected to ignore him. It’s not some well-guarded secret that he likes working with you so who cares if it seems a bit much that he’s somehow always one step behind you. 

Apparently, the fans care. They care a lot. He’s still trying to wrap his head around people caring so much about what he’s doing. When Shiu gets to throwing around media jargon he usually tunes him out but he hears enough about it from you that he’s starting to recognize certain terms. Fans, stans–two different things, maybe–fansites, and saesaengs–at least that’s what Shiu calls them, and they’re bad fans. Toji would rather call them what they are, which is crazed stalkers, but in the industry there needs to be a code word for everything. He’s caught you scrolling through your own tags on social media more than once, “just to see what they’re saying,” you insist, and then sulk when Toji takes your phone because you don’t need to have an unfiltered experience about how people view you online. It’s a dangerous place for someone so sensitive. You don’t have the same aloofness that he has to how people perceive him and he doesn’t need you getting your feelings hurt. 

Supposed fans like to pick at every little thing people in the spotlight do. An hour on whatever app you’re scrolling that day would pick you apart like buzzards over roadkill and leave you nursing your hurt feelings for days to come. New insecurities you haven’t even considered having would crop up because one person made a comment on your nose. Never mind the fact that it looks perfect just the way it is. At least to Toji. But you’re always quick to remind him that he has something nice to say no matter how you look, which isn’t wrong but he’s never lied or over embellished his thoughts. You are beautiful. It’s not his fault for pointing out the obvious. And his blatant, albeit silent, admiration works towards your newest project together. He hears the crew whispering between takes about how unnerving he is on camera, and how it doesn’t entirely seem like an act when he’s looking at you. 

It isn’t. Although Toji isn’t quite unhinged enough to stalk you or slaughter anyone that gets too close. He doesn’t need to anyway. You offer yourself up so sweetly like you can’t tell how frustratingly tempting you are. He tries to behave. For your benefit. He doesn’t care about Shiu’s constant reminders for “discretion.” And if your agent has anything to say to you about it, you’ve yet to mention it. And you never turn down his offers to go out after work. 

Someone asks for your autograph when you enter the restaurant together, begging for a picture with the two of you before a starry-eyed hostess ushers you to a private table. That picture will cost him another afternoon of Shiu yapping in his ear about tarnishing his reputation but that’s a problem for later because Toji is still thinking about how you rested your hand on his chest and leaned against his shoulder for the photo. There’s probably nothing to it. Intimacy like that comes like muscle memory after so many photoshoots for movie stills and promotional images. There’s a poster somewhere of the two of you posed in just the same position but that had been directed by a photographer. This you did on your own. Toji tries not to dwell on it as you flip through the menu. He knows from experience that you’ll stare blankly at the words printed on the paper, flipping through each page like you’re reading it, just to look up with that deer in headlights face that you get anytime a waiter asks for your order. You can deal with a swarm of paparazzi with a breezy smile but the moment someone asks you what you want to eat you freeze up. 

“I don’t know what to get,” you hum, still looking over all the options. Toji knows what you want. It’s an Italian restaurant and he knows you like pasta. He picks your order before his own, setting the menu aside to watch you pretend to make a choice. It’s cute, because he knows you’re genuinely trying to pick but without fail you start to blank as soon as the waitress saunters over to the table looking far more primped than the others he’s seen milling around. There’s gloss on her lips and her hair is pulled back so neatly it looks freshly done. It almost looks like she’s just clocked in except her cheeks are flushed bright and there’s a slight tremble to her hands. The hostess must’ve spread the word that celebrities were dining at table 17. She smiles real big, eyes fixed on Toji as you frantically flip through your menu, trying to decide on something. He reaches over to take it from you, giving the overeager waitress both your orders before sending her on her way. 

“Thanks,” you smile. Of course, he wants to say, I got you, baby. Instead he keeps his mouth shut, nodding in acknowledgment as he waits for you to start up a new conversation. You’re on about something to do with production, how you’re still not used to being important enough to have your own assistant on set, when the waitress returns with your drinks. Her hand linger on Toji’s glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as if she’s waiting for him to reach for the cup and brush his fingers over hers. It’s like something straight out of a romance movie and he might’ve found the humor in the attempt if it weren’t so annoying. Instead of reaching for his drink he sits back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the girl. 

She interrupted your story about you assistant messing up your breakfast order yesterday, but you don’t seem bothered as you stick your straw in your drink, humming happily after the first sip. He ordered you one of those Shirley Temples that you always get, candied cherries floating in the soda and grenadine. After a beat longer of Toji’s unflinching glare, the waitress finally retreats with a quiet chirp about your food being out soon. You thank her and Toji wants to tell you not to waste your breath, but that would probably only confuse you. For as intuitive as you can be, you still haven’t grasped the fact that Toji would kill to be your man. It would almost be endearing how oblivious you are if it wasn’t grating on his last nerve. Here you are thanking a girl for flirting with him like it didn’t take every shred of his patience to not tell her to fuck off and leave him alone. 

“So, anyway,” you continue, twirling the straw wrapper between your fingers, “he’s so used to assisting Kyoko”–some other actress Toji’s heard of in passing–“that he never actually asked for my order and just came back with her usual. Apparently she likes tomatoes in her eggs but I had to pick them out. And my omelet still ended up tasting like tomatoes. It was so bad I couldn’t finish it.” You screw your face up like just recalling the story has brought the taste back to your tongue. Toji already knows about your aversion to tomatoes. He always reminds the wait staff to remove it from your order whenever you’re out together. All it took was one time watching you peel a tomato off your burger for him to commit the little quirk to memory. 

“You should get a new one,” he tells you. He’s had his fair share of assistants but they’re a rotating roster of equally intimidated people flinching every time he calls their name like he’s going to tell them to go play in traffic. Usually he just wants a drink or something from the restaurant up the street but something about Toji is just so suffocating that most assistants barely last through filming. There are very few people that can tolerate his terse personality but he’s glad you’re one of them. So pretty and so sweet like you don’t realize that everyone on the production staff avoids him unless it’s absolutely necessary to speak with him. It’s half reputation and half unmitigated judgment. Toji would like to think he’s not all bad. He can be cordial in a distant way when not provoked but so many people seem to have an expert ability to pluck at his nerves. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” You’re laughing like it isn’t a big deal that you weren’t able to eat because some inattentive staff member didn’t do their job correctly. “I told him what happened and he apologized, even asked if he should go and get me my actual order, but by then it was about time for filming to start.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything serious.” Except it was because you’d had to go hungry because of someone’s incompetence. There’s a reason Toji is always taking you out. Most actresses have a habit of skimping on meals to look as trim as possible and he’s not about to let you starve because that’s what the media thinks looks best. He likes you just the way you are and, as far as Toji is concerned, his opinion is the only one that should matter. Not even your own as your food arrives and you whine about not being able to finish it all. 

“I’ve seen you eat more than that.” It comes out just a hair too harsh and he can see it settle over you as if he meant it as an insult. “It’s just pasta,” he says before you can get too in your head about it. “It looks like more than it is.” You grumble something under your breath, likely something snarky about how he doesn’t have to worry about portion control because you’re always saying how his stomach is a black hole. His physique is a testament to how far the human body can be pushed thanks to his tumultuous upbringing. A chasm of memories that don’t quite fit together, punched with holes like a moth-eaten shirt. Something about trauma and dissociation Shiu had said after a night of drunken oversharing. 

It sounded like he was reading off the first link he found in the search results while he was looking up why Toji was such an abrasive asshole all the time. Realistically, Toji knows he has things to work on just like he knows he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort. It is what it is and as far as he’s concerned the future is far more interesting than the brick wall his brain has built between the present and the past. The future has you and there’s not much he can think of that’s better than that. Not when you’re sitting across from him yapping about whatever pops into your head and happily eating the food he knew you’d like. 

“I mentioned in an interview once that I really liked this one author, and they’re releasing a new book soon. Apparently they sent me a signed advanced copy! There was a little handwritten note and everything!” It’s cute how you’re famous and still getting excited about another public figure acknowledging your existence. There’s something so genuine and humble in your happiness that seems to be missing from most of the big names he’s worked alongside. Toji isn’t always the easiest to work with considering how short his fuse is but he’s not one to take it out on people. He’s more hard stares and gruff one-liners while he’s seen other actors shout at the staff like they’re children needing to be scolded. So far, the egotistical people he’s worked with have enough sense not to snap at Toji directly. The only person that’s ever mouthed off to him is you, and it’s always within reason. He is a dick sometimes and you’re just so preoccupied with pleasing everyone that you’ll bite at him for being a bit too short with a co-star or snapping at a member of the wardrobe staff for taking too long for his liking. You make everything more pleasant for everyone involved. A little ray of sunshine in Toji’s otherwise dreary life. 

He was right about the food. You finish your pasta and two of your cherry drinks before Toji pays the tab, ignoring the waitress’ number written at the bottom of the receipt. He hardly notices the blue scribbles, but you do. It seems to flip a switch in your brain as you stare at it before Toji crumples it and shoves it into his pocket. You’re quiet as you leave the restaurant, going a few paces before you finally find your voice. 

“Are you gonna call her?” Your tone isn’t as playful as it usually is when you tease him about all the attention he draws. He’s gotten free drinks at bars and comped meals at restaurants because some waitress or bartender thought he was handsome. Toji has grown used to women giggling behind their hands as he passes and men peeking at him from the corner of their eye like he won’t notice. There’s a certain allure to his surliness that no one but you seems to be immune to. You and maybe Shiu. Usually the most you’ll give him is a laugh and a sarcastic quip about how he’s a public liability for all the attention he commands. Usually a joke about him stopping traffic. But you seem a bit more serious today, a bit more bothered than usual. For a second, Toji considers that he might be hearing things where you didn’t mean them. But then he catches the slight pout of your lips tinged red from your drink and he knows something’s up. 

“The waitress,” you say when he takes too long to answer, “she gave you her number, right?” It takes Toji a moment to realize this is the first time anyone has been so forward with their flirtations in front of you. Of course there were always the compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, but it never goes too far considering most people just assume the two of you are together like that. This waitress had taken a chance slipping him her number, but it’s not like Toji wants it. He hands you the rumpled receipt without a second thought. There at the bottom, in that same sparkly blue pen she used to take your order, is her name and number. 

“Kanna.” You say, eyes narrowing as you stare at the digits of her phone number. Toji decides to test the waters because there was certainly a hint of disdain in your voice as you read her name. You mumble something about her handwriting being messy and Toji can’t help but laugh. 

“Jealous, baby?” Sunlight dances over your lashes as your eyes snap to his face. He watches you try to hide your expression, your pout disappearing as you hand him back the receipt. He shoves it back in his pocket without a second glance because he knows you’d say something about littering if he dropped it on the ground just to prove a point.

“No.” You say it too quickly for it to be true. 

“Liar.” Toji laughs because you’re so clearly bothered. Usually someone making a pass at him wouldn’t get you so flustered but there’s something different about you today. You’re more openly affectionate. There’s still those moments of hesitation but you’ve been more free with grabbing his hand as you walk and leaning against him when you’re idle. That girl couldn’t have rattled you. She was hardly anything to look at, less so when Toji is constantly surrounded by a plethora of perfectly curated women that fit rigidly into the popular look of the moment. Trendsetting hairstyles and the latest designer clothes. You’re more subdued, less artificial in your style choices, yet he still finds you leagues more beautiful than anyone he’s ever seen before. Certainly more so than that random waitress and her glitter pen. 

Toji has to hold back a smile as you walk ahead of him. Taking three steps for every one of his and still only managing to stay a half step in front of him. He can tell you’re trying to distance yourself, arms crossed and lips pouted as you rush forward. Toji let’s you. It’s not like you’re far ahead and, lucky for him, you’re headed to the same place. The hotel is a few blocks away and Toji takes the time to enjoy the way the sun moves over your hair, golden light settling like a halo around your head. It’s only when you reach the towering silhouette of the hotel that the sun is eclipse and you go dull. Without the shower of gilded light you look more dejected than annoyed. A kicked puppy rather than an angry dog. You make it as far as the elevator before Toji decides he’s had enough of the running. His grip on your arm is as gentle as he can manage while keeping you from slipping away from him. His free hand finds your hip as the floors rush past. Your shuffling lifts your shirt ever so slightly and Toji finds his thumb brushing over the exposed skin above your waistband before he can contemplate the consequences.

Toji touches you all the time. As his on screen love interest, he’s inclined to be physically affectionate when the cameras are rolling. But even off screen he can’t help the way his true desires bleed into his actions. The media eats it up every time a picture of the two of you surfaces, the rumor mills running overtime to concoct a front page story for one tabloid or another. But that’s always been part of the show. The same way you leaned into him when that fan asked for a picture is the way he holds your waist on the red carpet. This is different. There are no cameras. No one to impress or enthrall. This is simply Toji wanting to touch you, and you letting him. The feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt have gotten you to go still, leaning back into his chest as he watches your reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. 

“Let go.” It’s only the two of you in the elevator and yet your voice is no louder than a whisper. Toji scoffs, hands loosening little by little. 

“You want me to?” 

“No.” Your voice is even smaller than before. The quietest admission like you’re unsure of it yourself. Still, Toji lets go and watches you stumble because you were leaning so heavily against him. 

Immediately he can feel the absence of your warmth against his chest, but he’ll let you come back to him. He’s made his intentions clear. From here, the choice is yours. When the doors ding open, you nearly sprint down the hall and Toji assumes you’ve made your choice. He can live with it. He doesn’t blame you for it. The moments you’ve shared together always felt a bit too good to be true, just as perfect as when the cameras are rolling. But you stop in the middle of the hallway. Your room is further down but you don’t move to go any further, as if something has rooted you to that place. Toji sets a leisurely pace in his approach. 

There’s the expectation that you’ll go running off again the moment he gets too close like a rabbit evading a wolf, but you surprise him with your stillness. Even as he recaptures your waist, hands more purposefully dipping under your shirt as he pulls you into his chest. This isn’t the place for it. A picture like this would be a PR nightmare and he’d never hear the end of it from Shiu. But Toji can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Instead he asks which room you want to go to. His is closer but he doesn’t doubt you’d be more comfortable in your own. You lead the way, swiping your card to unlock the door before pulling him inside. 

After a month of filming, you’ve turned this temporary situation into your own. It smells like you more than any industrial strength cleaner that the housekeepers use. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo and that scented lotion that you love so much. The bed is freshly made and that damn duck that a fan gifted you months ago is propped up against the pillows next to the remote. A bit of tension leaks from your shoulders as you laugh and explain that the housekeepers have been doing this for weeks, setting a cute little scene for you to return to after they’ve straightened up the room. You set the remote and duck on the nightstand as you sit at the edge of the bed, perched as if you don’t want to crease the freshly steamed linens. You look nervous and it stops Toji from wandering further than the little entryway. He’s flanked by a closet and a mirror just like in his room but he can’t take his eyes off you. Your hands are tucked between your thighs and he tries not to focus on the way you’re shifting and squirming, squeezing your legs together. 

He can almost see the heat flooding through your body and he’s more than capable of flushing it out if you’ll just ask him to. He feels like a leashed dog waiting for the command to pounce. He reaches up to brace his arms against the dropped ceiling annexing the entryway from the rest of the room. For all your silence, your body is speaking for itself. Toji’s eyes don’t miss the way your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes focused on the way his arms flex above his head. 

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Toji says even though he really wants to. He knows you’d listen, too. But this isn’t something he can script and direct. You have to decide for yourself, give him the words he’s looking to hear. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby.” He sees the little pet name land, watches how you dip your chin and look up at him through your lashes. Embarrassed and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

“Don’t make me,” you mumble. It’s so starkly different from the sultry confidence he sees on set, a true testament to your skills as you struggle to find the words to say you want him. Because he knows you do. It’s clear in the way you keep stealing glances at him even as you point your face away, hiding like he can’t see the way your teeth nip nervously at your lip. 

“I won’t.” He agrees. “Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, so you gotta tell me. What do you want, baby?” 

Toji wants to think he’d be able to turn tail and head back to his own room if you denied him, take a cold shower and forget this ever happened, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s already so swept up in your orbit that denial would feel like a punch to the gut. He’s taken worse, but not from you. It would be like sucking the air from his lungs. It’s gotten so bad that he can’t imagine a day without you. Work was only a pretense. He got to see you everyday because you were contractually obligated. Now you’re far past coworkers hanging around each other because it’s what the job demands. He likes to think you see him as a friend, maybe something more. He could live with just being a friend as long as it means he gets to spend time in your bed. He’s got so few people that he talks to on a day to day basis that Toji imagines it wouldn’t really make a difference what you called him as long as you do call him. 

Finally, you don’t say his name, or anything really, but you extend a hand towards him and he rushes forward like a tsunami swallowing the shoreline. He kneels and tries not to think of how stupid he must look prostrating himself at your feet. You don’t seem to think any less of him for his poorly concealed eagerness. It's a desire grown over years of working alongside you. A sort of desperation that will knock the breath out of your lungs as soon as you give him the go ahead. Because Toji has had women. Countless, faceless. He’s slept with enough people to know this feels different. He wonders if this is what it's like for desire to feel real. Because why else would he be so hung up on you after so long. He’s not a man after a chase. He won’t run after anyone. Unless it’s you. He’s been running so fucking hard that he’s nearly out of breath and here he is so close to the finish line in a marathon he hadn’t realized he was running. And you’re the prize brushing his hair back and touching the scar at the corner of his mouth like he’s something to be gentle with. 

“You scare me.” He hears you say it through waves of blood rushing in his ears. He’s familiar with fear but never from you. From day one you’d been strangely calm around him. Like a deer sitting beside a mountain lion without a care in the world. Toji knows he’s something to be afraid of. He’s lived his life. He knows exactly how dangerous he is, how terrifying he must seem. It was stupid to think you were above that fear just because you smiled at him. 

“I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.” You say softly. But you’re still touching him. Humans tame predators, he reminds himself. A wolf can be turned into a dog with the proper treatment. He thinks again of how he’s kneeling at your feet. He’s been tamed–whipped as Shiu called it–by you. 

“M’not gonna hurt you.” He tries to work the gravel from his voice, to sound less brooding as he reassures you. It doesn’t work. He’s set in stone. Too old to learn a new trick. If you’ll have him, Toji will be whatever you need, but you gotta take him as he is. Because it’s all he has to give. 

“Promise?” Your tone is so soft he half expects you to stick out your pinky or make him cross his heart. 

“I promise.”

“I’m serious, Toji. I don’t want to be just another girl to you. If we do this, we’re doing this. You can’t use me and leave me. I won’t let you.” He hears the unspoken words. I won’t let you hurt me. So that’s what you meant. Of course you aren’t afraid of him. You’re scared in the way everyone seemed to be of each other. Scared to commit, scared to be vulnerable. Toji loathes to think he feels the same. Rejection would hurt if it came from you. But it hasn’t. You’re still playing with his hair and Toji hears a damning thought surface in his head; I could marry this girl. He shoves it down before it can fully form. It’s too soon, too optimistic. He knows who he is as much as he tries to be better when he’s with you. Toji could hurt you. Get scared and break your heart. He knows if he did he’d never see you again. 

No more stupid videos getting sent to him at 5AM because you’re in the makeup chair at the crack of dawn. No more ordering your food because you can’t ever get the words out yourself. No more shoving you to the inside of the sidewalk because you like balancing along the curb as you walk. He could live without seeing you on set ever again. That had only been a symptom. The root of it was simply you. In any way he could have you. 

It’s pathetic but he’s addicted in a way he never thought possible. Never let himself think it was possible. Not for a guy like him. Movies gave him an outlet for his more violent tendencies. He would’ve done just as well as a boxer or something else where he could get paid to rough people up in a way that was above board. He’d done it the illegal way for years. Got away with it too. You have every right to be scared of him. Every right to leave him. But in this moment you’re here and he’s selfish. He leans up to kiss you. 

It doesn’t feel new. There’s no picturesque fireworks clouding his head. It isn’t new. He’s kissed you a hundred times over by now. It doesn’t feel new, but it feels right. Especially without the motivation of a camera. He isn’t kissing a character, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. 

“Stop thinking so hard.” Because Toji can tell by the way your hands flutter over his shoulders with nervous uncertainty that you’re not all here. You’re thinking about this like someone is going to snap at you for messing up an angle or pressing too close and smearing your makeup. He hears you mumble a feeble apology. 

“None of that. We’re doing this, baby. You and me. Don’t think about anything else.” That gets you to loosen up enough for Toji to work you out of your clothes. He’s never had the pleasure. There’s never been a reason for his hands to be pressing underneath your shirt and it feels like his hands are melting into your skin as they push towards your chest, taking your shirt with them. You’re warm and pliant, softening like butter under his touch. Toji gets you out of your shirt with a bit too much eagerness, ruffling your hair as you squeak at his desperation. He can’t even find it in him to care if he looks overeager now because he is. 

He’s been after you for years and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Beneath your clothes is an endless expanse of skin hidden only by the covering of your underwear. Plain cotton, nothing special, but it has him throbbing in his pants because it’s you. And you have the audacity to mumble about “didn’t know we were doing this, would’ve worn something nicer,” like Toji isn’t practically drooling at the way your pretty blue panties sit on your hips. He thumbs at the elastic, pulling it back just to hear it snap against your skin. It’s like unwrapping a gift and he’s looking to savor it. 

“They’re gonna know,” he says as he kisses along the shape of your breasts peeking out the top of your bra. He could put a mark there. Bite down on the soft skin and leave a print of his teeth in your skin, put a bruise there with his greedy mouth as he licks at the line where skin meets fabric, hiding the rest of you away in the cups of your bra. He could mark you up and they’d know. Everyone would know exactly who did it because Toji isn’t ashamed to admit he’s been after you like a dog, barking at anyone that got even remotely too close for comfort. A co-star could simply be complimenting the outfit wardrobe had chosen for a particular scene and he’d be looming behind them with murder in his eyes. Of course you look gorgeous but only he should get to look that hard at you. 

“Don’t!” You squeak when he noses over your skin, looking for a place to sink his teeth. “Don’t leave any marks!” He almost wants to ignore you and latch his mouth on to you anyway, but Toji resists the urge. You’ve asked him to behave and he wants to be a gentleman for you. Or, at least, the closest a man like him can get to it. He can still tease you about it, though. 

“No?” He mocks you. “You don’t want me to leave any marks? What, you got someone else that gets to see you like this, baby?” You squirm at his patronizing tone, a pout working its way onto your lips. He nips at your bottom lip before smoothing the expression with a kiss. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whine. “Makeup and–” He kisses you again, slipping his tongue between your parted lips, because of course he knows. Makeup would make a fuss if he left marks on your neck, wardrobe would pitch a fit if they found hickeys in a place their designated outfits couldn’t cover. You’d be in the makeup chair even longer as they painted over all the places he’d marked you up. 

“You taste like cherries.” He mumbles against your mouth. The taste has him fumbling for his pants like a fucking virgin because it’s so innate to you. Those little fruity drinks you love so much have him pressing painfully against his zipper. Toji has you leaned up against the pillows as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs twitch, pressing tighter together at the sight of him looming over you bare-chested. He doesn’t toss his shirt far because he wants to see you wearing it later. Right now you smell like you. Your lotion, your shampoo. He can’t wait to tired you out and wrap you up in his clothes until you smell like him. 

He wants to mark you up in other ways if he can’t do it with his lips. So everyone knows exactly who you belong to. The idea that you had to make him swear to not let this be a one off kind of thing is utterly laughable when Toji hasn’t wanted to stray away from you since nearly the first time you met. Nothing anyone else has to offer could be better than what you can give him. Although he’s happy that the little waitress tried. You wouldn’t have been so worked up if she hadn’t. He’s been teetering on the edge of insanity being so close to you everyday and it’s nice that he’s finally caught a glimpse of what you’re like when you get so wrapped up in your mind that you start acting out of character. Because Toji hasn’t felt this crazy over anyone and he’s glad he’s not suffering this lovestruck psychosis alone. It’s dumb and childish but he’s got so little in his life that’s sweet and pure that he isn’t about to poison this with toxic hang ups about maintaining his persona.

“Did it make you mad, baby?” He asks as he bullies his way between your legs. You move with him, thighs parting to give him space even as you shrink back into the pillows, brows pinched as you watch him settle his cheek against your thigh. “Did that girl at the restaurant upset you?” He wants to hear you admit it. He smirks at the way you screw up your face, nose scrunching in distaste at the mention of another woman. 

“Don’t say things like that when we’re like this,” you grumble, jerking the leg he’s resting on. He bites at you in retaliation and because he wants to hear you squeak about leaving marks again. 

“You are mad.” He smirks and watches the way your cheeks puff indignantly as you pout at him. He wants to kiss that petulant little expression off your face but Toji can’t bring himself to move even an inch away from where he’s resting. With his face cushioned by the pillowy warmth of your thighs he can see the mess spreading between your legs. A dark spot is forming in your panties, getting bigger with every shift of your hips. Toji slips a finger under the elastic and can practically hear the sound of the fabric sticking to your skin. It makes his mind go blank and all he can think about is getting closer. He blinks and suddenly his face is buried at the apex of your thighs, panting like a dog as he noses against the soiled fabric, tongue chasing the taste of you seeping through the cotton. 

“Wait!” You squeak, and he tries to. He pulls back but only far enough to look up at you. His nose stays nuzzled against the seam of your cunt, brushing against where your clit is throbbing through the fabric. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks even though he can think of a few things as his finger drags through the space between your panties and pussy, making a slick noise that has him grinding against the mattress. So fucking wet. 

“Nothing…” Toji recognizes the face you make in an instant. He’s seen it a hundred times over by now. It always reminds him of a puzzle the way you fix your expression whenever a camera is rolling. It’s always your mouth first. Smile dropped, pout gone, lips pressed into a neutral line. He sees every piece of your face fall into place until it’s perfectly blank. He watches you awhile longer until your composure breaks again and your brows dip into something resembling anxiety. 

“Nervous, baby?” He doesn’t need you to answer but you do anyway, nodding slowly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just lemme take care of you, okay?” You nod again and Toji rewards the loosening of your muscles with a gentle kiss to your stomach. “Behave.” He says and watches the way you tense up again. It’s less nerves, more anticipation as you watch him slink back between your legs. He decides to spare your underwear, pulling them down nice and proper instead of tearing them off of you like he’s so desperate to do. It takes a few seconds longer and gives you a chance to knock your knees together as he sits up to pull the bundle of fabric off your ankles. 

“What did I say?” He asks, loving the way the timbre of his voice seems to send a shiver through your prone body. “Behave.” You don’t resist as he spreads your legs again but you start to squirm the longer he stares. Toji has spent many a night in the privacy of his hotel room fisting his dick to whatever image of you his mind could conjure but nothing could come close to the real thing. 

“S’pretty, baby.” He mumbles, tongue tripping over the words. He’s just lost any semblance of cognitive function. All he can see is you, spread out and dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait another second to get his mouth on you. 

I’m gonna marry this girl, he can’t help the thought as your lashes flutter and lips part the moment he gets his mouth on your pussy. You’re still nervous, twitching and squirming like you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Toji decides for you, arms hooking under your legs to hold you still. That still leaves your hands to flutter anxiously, skating over where his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and brushing across his hair like you’re afraid to touch him. It makes him groan in annoyance, the sound humming against your clit. It makes you go limp, hands falling still. One rests against his head and the other over his hand. Toji loosens his grip on your leg just enough to thread his fingers through yours, pointedly ignoring how intimate the small touch feels even though he has his tongue buried in your pussy. He’s being greedy, tonguing at your hole and nosing against your clit as your cunt makes a mess of his face, but the moment is softened by the way your fingers squeeze around his. 

He feels your nails against his scalp. Not quite gripping, more so petting and it feels like something akin to a reward as he makes a mess between your legs. You don’t tense up again and Toji realizes the idle movement of your hands is grounding you even as your thighs shake around his head. He can barely breathe but he can’t even fathom pulling away when you’re making such pretty noises and trying to grind your hips against his face. You’re slurring something between those soft sighs that sounds an awful lot like “thank you,” and Toji wrenches his mouth away from you because he’s one more head scratch away from cumming in his pants like some virgin. He doesn’t even bother to get his underwear down all the way. He just shoves the waistband low enough to get his dick out and nearly collapses on top of you the second he feels your cunt against his skin. 

Toji braces an arm beside your head, leaning close enough to feel your breath ghosting across his skin. He kisses you to get you to close your eyes, but he keeps his half lidded as he watches you squirm as you taste yourself on his tongue. The mess you’ve left on his face transfers to yours as he rubs his face against your cheek like a needy puppy. It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t acting just as clinging. He can feel the needling sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine, lingering just right on the cusp of pain and pleasure. Toji tries to kiss you again but it ends up being more of a heady clashing of teeth and tongue as he presses his parted lips against yours. Still tastes like cherries, he thinks, enjoying the mix between sweet and savory as the taste of your arousal still sticks to his tongue. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans as you press a wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where his scar is. And because you’re so frustratingly sweet you blink up at him, slow and wide like the little doe eyed beauty that you are, and ask, “Like what?”

“Like that,” Toji groans as you raise your brows and tilt your head, lips pulling into another one of your signature pouts. “Fuck, turn over.” He hooks an arm under your back and flips you fast enough to leave you gasping. Your hand flutters to find him again where it’s settled against your heaving stomach. He can feel your pulse flutter as you catch your breath, body shivering with something softer than anxiety. Anticipation weaves its way through your body. Toji can tell in the way you tense and relax at each minute movement he makes. He decides to tease you as he fists the base of his cock, squeezing hard to keep from cumming on the smooth expanse of your back. His hand moves from your stomach to leave you teetering on quivering arms as he trails his finger up your spine. You bend to match his touch, arching as his fingertip traces over the contours of your back. Goosebumps raises where he touches and you shiver, head falling between your shoulders. 

Toji takes advantage of the vulnerable position. Your hair is usually down during filming and there’s little reason for that to change in the coming days so he feels little guilt about the way his teeth scrape against the nape of your neck. It makes your arms give out and Toji’s teeth tighten on the soft skin as your new position presses you back against his hips. He hadn’t meant to leave a mark but there’s likely to be one now. He pulls away, lapping apologetically at the faint indent of his teeth before grabbing your hips to keep you flush against him. If you move again he’s going to ruin the sheets instead of you, but you’re still squirming like you want him to embarrass himself by coming too soon. It becomes plainly clear that your intention is to kill him as you toss your hair over your shoulder and look up at him through your lashes, mumbling a soft “are you gonna fuck me now?” 

The answer is a resounding yes and Toji can’t bring himself to think of anything else as he guides his dick inside you. This time he does collapse, falling forward before he can catch himself. It pushes him inside in one go and you let out a long whine, grinding against him as Toji rests his forehead against the back of your neck. You’re starting to sweat now with all that wiggling you’ve been doing and he licks along the column of your neck to distract from the way your pussy is choking his dick. He can hear you whining, feel it too with the way his chest is flush against your back. A soft litany of “please,” and “move,” with his name punctuating each little gasp. He can feel you trying to grind against him, held still partially by the weight of his body. He’s got you almost completely pinned and decided to finish the job. You squeak as he presses his knee against yours, spreading your legs until you collapse onto your stomach. 

“Stay there,” he says like you have any hope of moving without him peeling his heavy body off of you. He has no intentions of doing anything remotely close to that as he shoves a pillow under your hips and his arm under your jaw. 

“Comfy?” He asks. He can feel the way your cheeks are squished in the crook of his arm as you try to nod and go back to begging. He nips at the shell of your ear, soothing the sting with his tongue, as he pulls his hips back. You’re close. He can feel it in the way your pussy is desperate to keep him inside, squeezing tight every time he pulls away. It’s got him on the edge, filling the hotel room with the heavy sound of skin against skin. He’s glad the bed is so sturdy. 

There’s no squeaking or knocking headboard as he drives you up the mattress with his desperate rutting. He gets a hand between you and the sheets to pinch at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. It makes you keen and that’s the only thing Toji can’t be bothered to keep quiet. He wants to hear every little sound you make after giving him so much lip about the waitress. You had so much to say earlier and he’s only too happy to hear you out. Neighbors be damned. It’s likely the floor is mostly if not completely vacant given that two celebrities are boarding here but Toji can’t help but want you to be loud in case there’s anyone to hear. This all feels a bit too much like a dream and he’d relish a noise complaint just to make it all seem real. 

“You feel so good, baby.” Toji grunts in your ear. “So good for me.” Something like a giggle works its way out of your mouth and Toji almost tells you to shut up because the sound goes straight to his dick. His hand leaves your breasts to find that spot between your legs. Your breathing stutters as his calloused fingers find your clit. It’s like lighting a fuse. You start up your squirming again, nails scratching at his arm tucked under your chin like you’re trying to get away. It takes Toji a second to realize that you are. Curling up on yourself, trying to run from the feeling of his body on yours. You’re not saying anything, but you are drooling. He can feel it slicking down his forearm as he loosens his hold just enough to make sure you’re not suffocating under his strength. He can hear those stuttering little breaths and soft mewls that are soon accompanied by a hand pushing blindy at his wrist. 

“Fuck no,” Toji grumbles. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to roll you onto your back. He hears a little sigh of relief as you relax into the sheets for a moment. There are tears sparkling in your eyes and wetting your lashes. Your whole face is shining with sweat and spit and it makes Toji a little prideful to see you so thoroughly ruined because of him. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby? Gonna behave?” He asks once you catch your breath. Before you can answer he’s already gathering your wrists in one hand to press them into the pillows above your head while his other hand slaps his dick against your messy cunt. He grinds the head of his cock against your clit, precum staining your skin as he teases you, asking if it feels good. He huffs out a laugh when you nod. It’s so earnest, so desperate. 

“Yeah it does. You don’t have to run from it, baby. Lemme make you feel good. Want you to feel good for me.” He pants, leaning down until you’re nose to nose as he presses back inside you. The sound you make is lost in the press of your lips as Toji lavishes you with more sloppy kisses. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, balls tightening with each little whine that leaves your lips. His hand finds its way back between your legs and he has your back arching within seconds. He can feel you trying to pull away again, arms tugging at where he has you pinned even as your greedy legs lock around his waist. He can feel your muscles trembling as he draws tight circles on your clit, whole body pulling taut as you get closer to the edge. 

The only words leaving your mouth are his name and soft gasps of “please, please, please,” like Toji is in any position to deny you what you want. He lets go of your wrists if only because he knows you won’t try to run from him now. Instead your arms wrap around him, pulling with enough strength to catch him off guard. Toji nearly collapses on top of you as you pull him into a surprisingly chaste kiss. A shudder runs down his back as your nails drag against his scalp and it’s all just a bit too much. Your pussy milking him like you’re trying to get pregnant–belatedly, he realizes he should’ve worn a condom–and your lips in his ear telling him to let go.

“Wanna feel it. Want it inside,” you whine. It’s so damningly sweet that Toji can’t find it in himself to even attempt to deny you. The thought of pulling out had briefly crossed his mind but your thighs are still locked around his waist and he isn’t above doing something stupid to satisfy himself. The consequences can be dealt with later. He lasted longer than he expected but there’s no mistaking how pent up Toji has been as he cums inside you. He fills you up and then some, feeling it leaking out. The tension bleeds from his body as he curls over you, grip loosening on your wrists enough that you wriggling free to wrap your arms around his shoulders. There’s the prickling heat of your nails scratching at him as you wrap yourself tight around him like you never want him to leave. Toji returns the favor. You shiver, a happy little sigh leaving your lips as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Clingy,” he says quietly, still loud enough for you to hear and he feels the way your arms tense then loosen, trying to pull away like you missed the humor in his voice. “Stop it.” He mutters, sitting back up to pull you into his lap. 

Usually Toji isn’t one to stick around after he’s gotten what he wants out of an encounter but the usual instinct to peel his partner off of him as soon as possible is absent with you. He revels in the way your head rests against his chest, soft breathes ghosting across his skin. Toji’s hands find your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he lifts you just enough to pull out. There’s a puddle forming on the sheets from the way he’s leaking out of you and he entertains the thought of plugging his fingers inside you for half a second before remembering how stupid that would be after he already came inside you with no protection. You don’t seem too worried about it and Toji supposes that’s all that matters. He watches the way the mood settles into something less frenzied, more coherent, but the anger never comes. He’s expecting you to snap at him for being so careless but all he gets is a soft smile and even softer kisses. The taste of cherries still lingers. 

“We should do something about that,” he says, eyes still trained on the space between your bodies. Stained white and sticky from how hard he was fucking you. It streaks up your thighs and shines bright on his pelvis, staining the freshly changed sheets. You blink slow, like a kitten, before finally acknowledging the mess between your legs. 

“Should be fine, I’m on the pill. I’ll stop by the store later if you’re worried.” He’s not. Part of him wishes you hadn’t mentioned birth control. He’s selfish when it comes to you and even though it would be the worst outcome, Toji finds himself wondering what it would’ve been like if he did get you pregnant. Then he remembers your careers and lets the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. It’s a desire for a later date because you’ve already said this isn’t gonna be a one and done kind of thing. There’s time for things to get more serious, to have a proper discussion instead of letting it happen on a whim. He clings to the idea of a future with you because that’s really all he has. As soon as he set eyes on you, you began to infiltrate his every thought like a weed invading his mind. But you’re not a weed, far too pretty for that. And even if you were, he likes the way you cloud his mind. Gives him something sweet to think about when there’s always been such a lack of nice things in his life. He kisses your neck, tasting sweat and perfume. After a while he gathers you up and makes you decent enough to make the trip to his room. 

“I owe Shiu money.” He groans halfway through his shower. You’re sitting just outside the tiny cubicle, perched on the toilet. Freshly washed and wearing his shirt just like he wanted. 

“You made a bet about me with your manager?” He hears the uncertainty in your voice even over the spray of water and realizes how the admission must sound. He shuts off the water and steps out into a cloud of steam to see you looking crestfallen. There’s a hesitance on your face that makes his stomach churn. Anxiety isn’t something Toji is entirely familiar with and he finds that he hates the way the acidic feeling settles in his chest. 

“Not like that, baby. He just knows how much I’ve been wanting you. He called me on my bullshit years ago.” It would be embarrassing admitting that he’s been pining after you for so long if you didn’t smile and try to hide your face. He hears you mumble, “Thought it was just me,” as you tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to cover your smile. There’s a tremble or hesitance in your voice like you can’t believe Toji would pay you the time of day, like he wasn’t just chomping at the bit to get you in bed. It’s a fair assumption given his usually detached disposition that so few people take the time to see past. You’re one of them but he can appreciate the air of unknowns that lingers around him. Toji is just like he seems on camera. 

Rude, abrasive, volatile when provoked. He acts something like a grizzled guard dog but even they have people they’re gentle for. It’s almost sickening how easily he can see himself with you. Made worse by how easily you accept him. You’re giving him that look again, like he’s your favorite person in the world. 

“What’s that look?” He asks as you watch him get dressed. He brought you to his room so you can nap on an unsoiled bed. He wonders if the housekeepers will tuck your duck in again after washing his cum out of your sheets. 

“What look?” You have the nerve to ask like you’re not looking at him with more softness than he’s seen in his entire life. He decides not to mention it. The need for discretion that Shiu has been trying to drill into him will be lost in the wind soon enough. Toji already couldn’t take his eyes off you and now he has more reason to be with you all the time. Media be damned, he’s gonna be all over you now that you’re his, officially. And you seem to share the sentiment as you curl up on top of him as soon as he gets in bed, humming happily when his arms find your waist. He hears a sleepy murmuring of “I’m your girlfriend,” soft and giggly like you couldn’t be more happy about it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin for Toji. He’s always thought of you as his girl and now it’s finally real. No cameras, no audience. Unscripted and real. 

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Wereroomies werewolf!chan reaction to his girl in a rabbit costume? I know that man will go insane

this ask wormed its way into my brain and made me write a drabble in record time. sorry if anything's worded weirdly, i was literally possessed while i wrote this whole thing.

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series). | Word Count: ~1k. | Warnings: Chris’ POV · curvy/chubby reader · primal play (can it be considered primal play when one of the parties involved is an animal already?) · breeding · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control].

minors do not interact.

It was rare for Chris to take you to his house in the woods on your own. Typically, the entire pack would come for their monthly run, but every once in a while he needed to come check on the place to make sure everything was in order–the amount of times he’d woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the sudden thought that he didn’t turn off the lights before leaving during their last trip were too many to count at this point.

This weekend, Chris decided to take you out on a little escapade, just the two of you in his big house. You both had been working nonstop the last couple of weeks, between that and pack duties you’d hardly had any time for yourselves as a couple, so he was more than needing his alone time with you, to disconnect from everything and everyone else.

So here he was, doing the final checks on the house to make sure everything was fine before he could finally join you wherever you were in the house to lounge around and snuggle and hopefully have some delightful sex later in the evening.

“Baby, have you seen the–the…”

Walking into the living room, and seeing you all of a sudden like that, sitting on the dining table of all places, was something Chris did not expect. His mind short-circuited immediately, and the fact that you had the nerve to gasp and act surprised as soon as you spotted him wasn’t making it any better.

“Oh, my… Seems like I’ve found myself in the wolf’s lair. What am I gonna do now…” You brought your hands to your cheeks, which only squished your breasts further together, all garnished with the fakest look of concern he’d ever seen on your face.

That bra was barely even a bra, it was just a couple of pieces of fabric tied around your neck by thin straps, it did absolutely nothing to keep your breasts contained. It was white, too, practically transparent. The bottoms weren’t much better, also a barely even there piece of fabric that did incredibly poorly at covering your plump centre. But the worst pieces of all were the white and pink suspender belt, with the matching stockings over your mouth-watering thighs, and the goddamned bunny ears on your head.

Something stirred deep inside of Chris, something just so incredibly dangerous, something he just knew was exactly what you wanted to awake with this entire set-up of yours.

Prey, prey, prey, prey, prey…

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you of your fun? So of course he played along. 

“Aww, poor little bunny got lost?” Chris cooed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame, staring you up and down.

You bit your lip, nodding. “You’re not gonna do anything bad to me, right?”

Chris took a deep breath, and he got almost winded by the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. “Well… That depends, pretty bunny…”

“On?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, and Chris could already feel himself straining in his briefs. “On how fast you can run away from me”.

You bit your lip and whimpered, looking almost scared. 

There was a moment of you staring at him, and Chris staring at you… A moment of silence that fed the tension in the air. In an instant, you were getting off of that table and bolting out of the room, letting him see the fluffy tail attached to your bottoms, and he could feel the fine hairs on his nape stand on end.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…

Chris immediately ripped his t-shirt off of his body and chased after you. He was suddenly feeling incredibly warm, and he could feel his instincts further clouding his reason as he looked at your form trying to get out of his reach.

He let you off easy for a few minutes, revelling in the deep breaths you took, in the way your heart was racing inside your chest, and in the smell of your scent taking a hold of every single one of his nerve-endings. Until he just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to catch you, to show you your place and make you submit.

After a while of running and hiding around the house, Chris finally caught up to you on the upper floor, right after climbing the stairs–his shorts had been discarded at some point during the chase, he didn’t even notice when he’d removed them, and he, honestly, also didn’t care.

With a tight hold on your waist he pushed you against the nearest wall. He would’ve felt bad by hearing the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as your back hit the wall, but, at this point, he knew your limits, he knew how to read your body language, he knew the exact word you would use if it all became too much for you, and, especially, he knew when you were putting on an act. 

With a hand cradling the back of your head, he tilted it to the side, making himself more room to shove his face in the crook of your neck, to prod at your pulse point with the tip of his nose and get a proper whiff of that scent of yours that made him delirious, especially now with how horny you smelt, with his senses enhanced by the chase.

“What now, bunny?” Chris mumbled. He licked a stripe up the expanse of your neck, relishing the taste of your skin under his tongue, and he felt you shiver with the motion.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do to me? I’m just a poor, innocent bunny that got lost…”

“Are you, now?” Chris brought his free hand to the ears on your head, feeling the soft fur between his fingers for a moment, only to finally move that hand to your side so he could drag it all the way from your ribs down to your hips, relishing the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “And what was a pretty bunny like you looking for so insistently you ended up lost in my lair?”

“A partner”, you replied simply, although your voice got a bit shaky when he started to toy with the string that tied your underwear in place. “I just…need to be bred so badly”.

Chris could’ve fainted with how fast blood rushed from his head to his crotch.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, bunny”, he dragged his teeth down the length of your neck, until he finally found a spot to suck the first of many love bites he was ready to leave on your skin. “I can give you exactly what you want… I’ll pump you so full, pretty. Just how you need”.

“You will?” You reached for his hips, and the warmth of your hands on his bare skin was further feeding that pool of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Is the big, alpha wolf going to put his pups inside me?”

God, he might’ve been the predator, but you certainly always had the upper hand, and Chris knew you were aware of it. You always knew what to say to get him to react, to get exactly what you wanted, and he was ready to fall for it every single time.

Chris leaned in closer, close enough he could feel your lips brush against his own when he spoke. “Only if you ask nicely”.

You moved your hands from his hips to his ass, squeezing generously. “Please… Please, I need your pups so bad. Please, breed me, alph–”

A squeal left your lips when Chris took a hold of your hips and turned you around all of a sudden. He just couldn’t take it anymore, not after all that had transpired since he spotted you on that table downstairs.

With a hand on your upper back, he pressed your chest further into the wall as you pushed your hips back towards him, giving him the delicious sight of your round bottom in that barely there piece of underwear with the fluffy tail, and the way your soft flesh dipped under the taut straps of your suspender belt that held the stockings on your legs almost made him dizzy.

Chris spat on his free hand and smeared the saliva all over his length. Pulling your underwear to the side, he got a perfect view of your soaked folds. Clearly, all the running around had been a good warm up for you, too, and he was almost trembling in anticipation.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve probably stretched you out first, even loosen you up with his mouth and his tongue. But these were no normal circumstances. He could barely think straight at this point, all he knew for sure was that he needed to be inside of you and give you the pounding of your life.

Breed, breed, breed, breed, breed…

You whined once he started to push his cock inside you. The feeling of your warm, wet, tight walls stretching over his length had him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He might’ve worried he was hurting you, but he knew by now that when you reached back for his hip like you were doing now, almost like you were urging him to ram himself into you already, it meant you were doing just fine, so there wasn’t a single spark of worry in his hazy mind just yet.

As soon as he was fully sheathed within your warmth, he nuzzled your neck, holding the soft skin of your hips tightly in his hands. “Don’t worry, pretty bunny. I’ll give you what you need. All of it”.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha

[imagionationstation]

Something I was thinking about today:

The claim that Splinter “never feeds his sons human food” and they have to discover it upon reaching the surface is a curious one.

It makes sense given common information.

Let’s use our big brains. Reason out some more info.

Info like… Splinter must have looked up information about turtles before buying four baby turtles.

However, after getting turned into a rat and ending up a father to infants on the run from aliens, he probably never got the chance to go to the library or use the Internet to look up information on how to feed a half-human half-turtle hybrid baby.

(Not that the Internet had forums for that yet. Was the internet prevalent in 2012…?)

So he just. Fed them turtle food and hoped for the best.

(The Japanese are know for eating insects. And algae is commonly used in all kinds of their recipes. For Americans, it sounds crazy. For Splinter, it was just an adaption of his own diet in the hopes of providing his mutant children with safe, normal turtle food.)

By the time they were kids, they’d probably just gotten used to a routine. We really have no proof that algae and worms is bad for the turtles. Tastes yucky? Maybe. But humans eat plants and bugs too.

Splinter was likely just working with what he knew.

But I don’t think they only ever ate algea. Don’t get me wrong-

The theory is totally understandable. I was onboard for this claim for a while myself. Then, I rewatched Lone Rat and Cubs. (Bebés 🥰🥰)

And he definitely introduces them to foods.

I’m seeing noodles, gyoza, (bamboo stick?), and he also throws down something yellow that I can’t recognize. We also see him collecting bread for them and dangling food over the little piranha children.

He continues to collect products for them. Maybe not the healthiest because he’s literally raiding trashcans but… He’s trying.

And then we have some popcorn proof that he’s still introducing them to human foods when they’re kiddos, with Mikey happily snacking on some while they’re in the dojo.

During the series, we see very little new introductions to foods. They eat romen, icecream, popcorn, and drink milk, tea, and other human things without so much as batting an eye.

Ergo, they’ve had human foods. They’ve just never had pizza.

Why do they act like such goobers when introduced to pizza?

BECAUSE THEY’RE GOOBERS, YOUR HONOR!!!

Though- they actually act similarly when introduced to pizza gyoza.

They hesitate. And then something explodes with how tasty it is.

But because this list is far to short to be a proper analysis, there’s also the point to be made for the first episode where they have an entire kitchen set-up going around them.

And I’m no New York Subway expert, but do they normally have kitchens set up within them? Probably not.

Which means that Splinter (and/or his sons) must have set this up. Why set up pantries, a fridge, and a stove if you did not intend to house foods or make foods to cook on them?

After all, the food on the plates appear fresh and raw.

They have an algae pool for harvesting in the lab. Why would they need to create an entire kitchen set-up simply to prepare them?

Also, they know how to use chopsticks for big and small foods. If they’d spent their entire lives eating small foods, it would be a teenie bit difficult to change the method of picking up a fatter breading than a tiny greenery or worm. Especially with mutant hands.

But they don’t hesitate. As if they have picked up larger foods before.

Also, also, they know what a cake is. What it’s supposed to be made out of. Hence why Leo knows what “icing” is.

I’m not normally that excited to taste something that I’ve never tried before (unless someone is hyping me up). It feel implied that they have and that’s why they’re disappointed that Mikey made one of not-cake substances and why Mikey looks like he has regrets.

Also, also, also- considering Splinter eats the algae and worms too, I don’t believe that he has the turtles on a purely algae based diet because he’d have to stick himself on one too. Man’s not a fan.

And he knows that other foods exist. So. Why would he?

In other words, my favorite analogy:

I hate Spinach salad. My mother used to make us eat Spinach salad.

Were there better things to eat than Spinach? Yeah.

Did mom even listen to that point? Nope.

But was it still technically good for me so I was forced to stomach Spinach salad until I was old enough to design my own diet?

You betcha. And I hated every minute of it 👍

So, to end this, I have to say that while algea and worms could have been (at maximum) a common meal for the turtles, I don’t think it was their only meal option. I’m not necessarily saying it was the best idea or the tastiest meal for a birthday-type celebration, but the turtles definitely had outside food exposure.

Do with this knowledge what you will.

[megamuscle885-blog]

Skitter Flow

We're so s-small in the end man.

She wanted pussy but I gave her trauma. Haha.

Opp was talkin crazy. Shot him in both timelines.

We're out here smokin the shit that'll send you to the birdcage.

I have no loyalty for anyone. Never did, never will.

My money longer than Pale. My money longer than a Grey Boy loop.

Popped a xanny and wiped out every op within the state.

Fed him spiders. Made his ass a statistical outlier.

The worms are back.

I'm on twelve vicodins smokin that shardspace bisexual warrior monk cultivated sidepiece myrrdin deluxe cauldron reserve hashish. Shit will send you into a trigger vision, it'll have you witness Crystal God Whales.

Shorty told me no tongue so I made her gag on it.

The opps cut up shorty's face so I took two thirds of his gang in the divorce. Sent his ass into a two year coma. Froze him solid in a whole other dimension. Turned that motherfucker into a footnote at his own execution.

I don't give a fuck if I go blind, I don't need to see the price tag anyway. [The Undersiders laughing in the background. Scapegoat expresses his disbelief.]

I'm wearin that darwin bark spider gucci. Haters in shambles, dressed in their mom's pantyhose. Everyone can see your gross dick son. Should get that checked out.

I love drugs. I love drugs.

This miasma got me making out with them butch puppygirls. Changed the trajectory of her life.

The bugs are back. [Long pause followed by howling laughter from the Undersiders.]

This fight was over the moment I stepped into the room, cunt.

These cops are interrogatin me about this S-Class gamer girl as if I hadn't left their new boss buried under a freshly poured concrete foundation not two hundred feet away.

I'm out here huffin those bakuda bomb brain blasters. Shit will give you a concussion. I'm numb to all forms of pain.

Ventilated that three year old nazi with the gold plated glock to spare her ass the torment nexus.

This zaza will turn your skin translucent and make your skeleton visible. This zaza will turn you into a teenage mutant ninja salamander with LSD spit. This zaza will turn you into solid carbide titanium.

I only handed back the free world cuz I was bored.

I'm eatin that premium challenger pussy juice marinated Fugly Burger meal. The Endbringers are all I think about.

All I need is a pack of newports and the touch of a woman, and I'll fight God.

AAAAH! The worms!

You keep talkin mad shit for someone who still has eyeballs. I don't fuck with warning shots, jit.

There are bugs under your skin.

I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!

Made her choke on it so hard they had to weekend at bernie's her ass.

Surrounded by pussy but I chose war. These lesbians screamin their hearts out. I'm sorry babe.

Fuck it, cut ties.

They forgot I'm her.

This shit's so small in the end man.

[thegnomelord]

I thought of this during my sad boi hours, so angst galore, this is right after Price and 141 get hound back and what I would imagine happening:

Price getting back hound/reader and Price calling him by his name, his real name. Hound not recognizing his actual name nor responding to Price. Meanwhile Price does NOT want to use hound to call him because you know, he wants hound/reader to become his own self.

But during the time hound still calls Gaz his replacement, he gets so fed up that he goes to attack Gaz unprovoked, just because he can, so Price yells at hound, saying “hound! Stop!” Instead of his actual name, and being the obedient dog hound is, that Makarov broke and trained him to be, he stops.

Then Price feels so guilty but he thinks that the reader he knew is still in there so he tries again with his real name, again no response, again real name, no response. Only then after a long time of Prove trying to get reader to talk to him (like you said in one of your other hound posts) hound says “the man you knew is dead, you killed him.”

OMFG ya'll are just making the brain worms in my head wiggle deeper with these angst ideas :Ddd

But I so imagine that after like 5-6 years of being under Makarov, you'd forgotten your name. Why would you even need to remember the name of a dead man? The person you were died the second you were betrayed so that Hound could be born from the blood and violence Makarov baptized you in.

Every time your name leaves his lips, in a whisper or a shout, it enters one ear and exits through the other, not able to snag on your mind when the violence you're so used to clogs your skull with cotton. But it's the sharp call of "Hound!" — tone cold and crisp just like Makarov's — that has you stopping in your tracks, neck cracking from how quickly your head snaps to look at him, muscles tense in preparation for an order to come, for a 'fetch, bite sick him.'

But none comes, and the moment's distraction is all it takes for you to be subdued, arms once again wretched and locked behind your back. Price's rough hands hold your jaw, fingers brushing against the skin just behind the muzzle. His touch is far too gentle, his fingers gently shake like he's afraid of breaking you.

"Lad. . ." His voice is hushed now, just for your ears. Your old name leaves his lips again, and just for a second it makes the back of your head buzz with bees, your lips closing to hide the snarl you'd been sporting.

But your better self is quick to remind you of your foley, the snarl reappearing on your face. “the man you knew is dead, you killed him.”

[doctorwhommm]

Have u read any torchwood books? If yes, could you draw a scene from one? If no, could you draw and janto scene from the show? Dont care which ones the brain worms just need to be fed

hello!! ive not read any torchwood books but am super open to any recommendations you guys have !!!

i’ve got a lot of favourite janto moments from the show but decided to draw the office scene from kiss kiss bang bang!!

i love how flustered ianto is he’s so silly this guy propositioned his boss over their dead coworker but is flustered by the prospect of a date with the same guy

[thekinkyleopard]

Oopsie Daisies

An Al X Kanai Snz Fic

⚠️Content Warning:⚠️

Force Induce, Allergies, Snz, Smut

Description: This fic is loosely based off the following prompt by @hetchiew

Author’s Notes: So because I’m a big ball of chaotic stress from all the curve balls life is hitting me with I’ve decided to try to write a short snz fic based off a prompt given to me by @aller-geez something easy to work with. Hope yall are thirsty for some Hell Boys 🫡 Kanai is owned by Geezie and she did the cover art as always 🥰🫶🏻

Just another day, a Wednesday, the apartment was quiet and all that could be heard was the light scuffle of pacing feet as Alistar tried to come up with a plan for the day. The red headed demon was feeling antsy, on one, like he couldn’t rest until there was sin surrounding him. It had been weeks since he’d pulled any antics or crazy schemes out from under his sleeves, he’s feeling, empty..restless. The anti-Christ scratches his chin wearily, deep in thought as he shuffled through the filing cabinet of trouble installed within his brain.

“Morning Donnie,” suddenly snapped from his trance as he turns to meet eye contact with his best friend.

“Nai,” he nods in response, looking the hound up and down as the gears started turning slowly in his corrupted head. Draeko was still asleep from a long night with his best friend Levi, but Kanai was up and ready for the day, already showered and dressed as he shuffled through the freezer for the blood worms he fed his salt waters every morning. “Hey, bud, whatcha up to?” Alistar asked casually as he leaned up against the entrance way of their small kitchen.

“Hm? Just caring for the aquatics this morning, is there something you need, Donnie?” The navy haired man turned to look at his best friend with the freezer door still opened, an empty, distance stare from his heterochromatic gaze.

“I’m considering it,” the red eyed demon looked the man up and down, a hungry gleam hidden behind his observant leer.

“Oh? Well, do let me know how I can help,” Kanai nods once before turning to his search, reaching in to pull out the packet of worms, closing the door and beginning the process of separating out the servings for his fish. Once he finished his first steps in the process he began to trail back into his room quietly, Al following closely behind him.

Alistar observed Kanai's every move with an intense focus, his eyes tracking each precise motion as if committing them to memory. He found himself oddly drawn to the meticulous way in which Kanai handled the delicate creatures in his care, a stark contrast to Alistar's own chaotic and impulsive nature.

As Kanai carefully sprinkled the bloodworms into the aquarium, the red head crept closer, his curiosity piqued by the colorful array of fish darting eagerly towards their meal. He watched as Kanai's expression softened, a rare moment of peace settling over his features as he gazed at the underwater world he had been cultivating.

Unable to resist the temptation to disrupt this tranquility, Alistar reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, casually lighting it with a smirk playing on his lips. The acrid smoke wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of saltwater and bloodworms.

Kanai's sharp inhale was suddenly stuttered as he found it difficult to breathe amongst the tainted air. His chest suddenly tight and his nose suddenly very itchy. “A-Alistar….Y-you know I can’t st-stand that sme-HEH..’Kkssshuuh! kngt’SHHEW!” It exploded out of him unexpectedly, a cloud of saliva sprinkling the space in front of them.

Alistar's smirk widened at the familiar sound of Kanai's sudden sneeze attack, a sure sign that his allergies were being triggered by the smoke. He tried to act innocent, as if he had simply forgotten about Kanai's sensitivities, but deep down he relished in the damage he was causing. His excitement grew as he thought about how much worse he could make it, the heat rising within him like a smoldering fire.

As Kanai struggled to regain his composure, Alistar nonchalantly took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around him like a sinister dance. The hound’s nose twitched and scrunched as it tickled his sensibilities…he inhaled just barely and another set came flying loosely out of his mouth. Spittle flying freely in the air to Alistar’s entertainment. “huh’KIISSHH’ah! Eh’Kgsssshii!” Al watched with a predatory gleam in his eyes as Kanai's face reddened and itched in discomfort, trying to clear the air with a few quick swipes of his hand.

"Oopsie Daisies, my bad," Alistar feigned innocence, his voice silky smooth with an underlying edge of mischief. "I guess I forgot about your allergy there Nai, apologies,” he chuckled loosely taking another long drag before putting it out on his tongue. “Let me go get you some tissue hm?” he swallowed the rancid mixture of ash and tobacco down his throat without so much as a wince, placing the rest of the stoge in the pack to be relit later.

Alistar left the room with a sly smile playing on his lips, a plan already forming in his mind. He made his way down the hallway to his own room, where he kept a small vial of chhinkni powder tucked away in a secret compartment. “It’s time…” he whispered sinisterly to himself. The powder was rare and potent, known for causing intense sneezing fits when inhaled. As he carefully sprinkled a pinch of the chhinkni powder onto a tissue, Alistar couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of what was to come. “This is going to be so fucking awesome…” snickering almost inaudibly. He had been saving this powder for a special occasion, and what better time to use it than now?

With the laced tissue in hand, Alistar made his way back to Kanai's room, his steps light and silent as he approached. He knocked on the door before pushing it open, revealing Kanai still struggling to rid the room of the lingering smoke and his insistent sneezes. “iihGUSHou!” it burst out of him the moment the red head walked back into the space.

"Hey Nai, got you that tissue you needed,” Alistar held out the tainted material with a falsely sympathetic smile, his eyes glinting mischievously as he watched Kanai's expression shift from confusion to suspicion. Without a word, and despite his better judgement, Kanai reached out to take the tissue, his movements slow and deliberate as if he sensed something was amiss.

As soon as Kanai's fingers made contact with the laced tissue, and he brought it within an inch of his nose, a violent sneeze ripped through his body, doubling him over with the force of it. "hIH’IKTSHhh'uuhh!” Kanai staggered back against the one bare wall in his room, his eyes wide with shock as the fit consumed him in a relentless storm, electricity jolting to the tips of his toes and fingers. “Hih’KSSSSHH’uh!”

Alistar couldn't contain his grin while he watched Kanai struggle against the relentless attack on his sensitive reddening nose, each convulsion wracking his body mercilessly. The red-headed demon felt a rush of exhilaration at the mess he had unleashed, the thrill of seeing his best friend crumble at the work of his hands, he could feel himself harden in his already tight jeans. “You’re so fucking hot like that..” he licked his lips stepping closer to the hound who looked as though he was trying to fight away another oncoming storm.

“D-Donnie p-please stay back I’ll….KNGT’ssHEW!” out burst a plume of wet, sticky mist that made direct contact with Alistar’s approaching face. The red eyed demon grinned and brought his thumb up to wipe the mess off his chin, only to stick it in his mouth and groan.

“Delicious,” he cooed darkly, his voice thick and smooth like expensive chocolate. While he licked his thumb clean, Alistar's gaze dropped with desire watching Kanai's struggle intensify. The force and power he held over his best friend ignited a fire within him, primal and intoxicating. With a predatory grace, he moved closer to Kanai, the air between them charged with tension and unspoken lusts. Al looked hungrily at the other as he placed both his hands at either side of the man’s head on the wall behind them.

Kanai's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety at the dangerous game Al was playing. Deep down, a part of him relished in the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, even as his body continued to convulse with each sneeze that wracked his frame. He would rather cut off every limb on his body than admit it out loud, however.

Alistar's hand reached out to tilt Kanai's chin up, his touch surprisingly gentle against the chaos he had wrought. "You're so delightful in your vulnerability, Nai," he murmured, his voice low and husky with need as his lips and teeth snapped at the hound’s mouth, a teasing gesture. "Such beauty while you huff, puff and drip from your mouth…” he swiped his thumb just under the hound’s moistened lip. “I am ever so hungry, my friend,” the sentence came out in a dangerously low tone that Kanai was all too familiar.

Kanai's breath caught in his throat at Alistar's sudden proximity, the air around them crackling with a dangerous energy that left him feeling both exhilarated and terrified. He sniffled nervously, but also because he was still fighting the urges against him, the powder still lingering in Al’s closed fist just next to him. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within him, his body betraying him with its response to the demon before him. “D-Donnie…” he tried to reason but was met with a side smirk that immediately caused him to pause.

As Alistar's thumb traced under his lip, Kanai felt a shiver run down his spine, his skin tingling at the soft touch. Despite the chaos and discomfort that still gripped him, there was an undeniable pull towards the red-headed demon that he couldn't quite explain, there always had been. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the line between discomfort and arousal blurring in the haze of lingering sneezes and unspoken tension.

Alistar leaned in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to Kanai's own, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a thrill of anticipation through the hound's trembling form, and yet he stood back, only to cuff his closed fist around the other’s nose, holding the tainted tissue within his palm, and pushed it up against his best friend’s nostrils with a force that took the hound by surprise.

Kanai's bright blue and brown eyes widened in shock as the chhinkni powder reached his nose, invading his senses with a sharp, pungent sting that made his head spin. He gasped, trying to turn away, but Alistar's grip on him was firm and unyielding.

The demon’s laughter rang out, dark and twisted, as he watched Kanai's face contort in a mix of surprise and discomfort. Watching his nose stretch and twist, eyes squinting shut to fight against it. The sneezing fit that followed was like nothing Kanai had ever experienced before - each convulsion wracked his entire body, making him double over in agony, kept up soley by the weight of the other. “hIH’IKTSHhh’uuuh!! Kngt’SHHEW! iihGUSH!” His chest tightened, his throat burned, and his eyes watered uncontrollably as he fought the relentless onslaught.

Through tear-blurred vision, Kanai could see Alistar's twisted grin, the gleam of sadistic pleasure in his crimson eyes. The demon seemed to revel in Kanai's suffering, feeding off his pain like a predator savoring its prey. Nai’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, betrayal, and an unsettling thrill that coursed through his veins despite the discomfort wracking his body. As each sneeze ripped through him, he felt a tiny piece of himself chipped away, replaced by something darker and more primal. “hih’KKSSHHHuh!" KnGT!”

Alistar's grip on the tainted tissue tightened, the powder coating his own fingers as he pressed it against Kanai's nose with a cruel persistence that sent shockwaves of agony through the hound's already tortured body. “I love the sweet sweet sounds you make Nai…those little whimpers that follow…be a good boy for me now,” The room spun around the navy haired man, the walls closing in on him as if to trap him in this nightmare with the demon before him.

“D-Donn—HEh’kksssshuuh!!” succumbing again to the substance wreaking havoc inside of him. He snuffled loudly. “SNdfF!!” trying desperately to clear himself of the tingling sensation that ran up and down the bridge of his nose like when one’s foot falls asleep. “Pl-ease….” he whimpered loosely. “I surr-…surrend…EH’KGSSSSHiH!…er” pleading with any ounce of humanity that may be some where hidden inside the red head.

“Oh, but Nai…” The demon clicked his tongue sarcastically. “Why would I do that? I’m having so much fun..you look and sound soooo fucking sexy…just let me have a few more…hm? I’ll even do all the work..” he snickered with a bite of his lower lip. Alistar's taunting words echoed in Kanai's ears, each syllable twisting the knife of helplessness and arousal deeper into his already-tortured soul.

The hound's body convulsed with another violent explosion “hh’KSHHh’hiew!” his chest heaving as he struggled to draw in a breath amidst the overwhelming sensation of the chhinkni powder still living within him. He felt powerless against the demon's cruel game, his will bending under the weight of Alistar's sadistic pleasure. The red head moaned audibly, licking his lips now as he began to rub the growing bulge of his pants against Kanai’s long slender leg.

“Good boy, Nai, such a good boy,” the hound couldnt fucking help that prodding excitement he felt rising within his own groin as his friend began to rut and rub against him. Cursing himself and his innate carnal desires, before pushing his leg just up enough to aid in further friction. The navy haired men then stuttered, like something caught in his throat, that same electrifying feeling of static rushing down the front of his sinuses.

“hIH’KTSHHh’uuh! Eh’KgGss!” it released again, spittle flying past the bottom of the tissue held against his face and into Alistar’s own lust laden features.

“Shit…” he cursed, his breath labored as his hips began to snap at a faster pace, rubbing himself against the other’s thigh as if his life depended on it. His whole weight of body pressing up against Kanai for support with now his ear right next to the hound’s exploding mouth. His grip on the other’s face tightened, pushing the tissue against his friend so tight that the hound was almost certain he’d be cursed for the rest of the week. “Just a few more…” Alistar grunted behind gritted teeth.

“Hh’Ksssshuuh! hIH’KTssHh! Kngt’ShHeW!” they were sporadic, forced, and seemingly never-ending. The sneezes, a symphony of sound and sensation, tore through Kanai's nasal passages like a wild windstorm, each one building upon the last, until they reached a crescendo of pure, unadulterated chaos. The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of snot, spittle, and chhinkni powder, and each sneeze created a miniature tornado of perfumed air that danced around the two figures entwined in their dark, twisted game.

The swirling haze of particles encircling them took on a life of its own, forming a thin layer against the red head’s exposed skin that glistened in the right lighting before drying out. “I’m going to fucking cum unholy shit…” Al struggled through his ragged breath as his body was continuing to rut up against the other’s stiffened thigh, with just the right force and finesse…

“iihGUSHou! hIh’KtssH’hiew!” Unable to keep them away, the powder scraping and clawing its way up every cell inside his nose just made the hound worse and worse. Every sneeze set off another series of involuntary spasms, his body shaking against the other, as if his entire soul was fighting to expel the foreign substance that had infiltrated his defenses. With each shuddering breath, Kanai could feel his sinuses throbbing in time with the constant explosions and the chhinkni powder scraping against his nasal cavities. The redhead's own shudders and thrusts against him seemed to heighten the intensity of the situation, his friend's body writhing with every spasm.

The hound felt as though he were being torn apart from the inside out, his consciousness pulled further and further into the depths of his own lewd desires and the addictive draw of Alistair's sinister pleasure. Despite his best efforts, his own arousal surged within him, matching the rapid pace of his friend's hips as they moved against each other. Each of their legs standing in as a beacon of usage. They sloppily and roughly dry humped each other while the hound twitched and lurched under the pressure of the substance. “KNGT’SSHHEWW!” another loud, forceful and wet sneeze came flying out from his mouth into the cavity of Al’s ear drum, both of them reaching a boiling point they could no longer resist.

“FUCK!” Alistar cursed loudly, grunting with force as his body pushed forward and he came hard inside his boxers, almost silently chuckling afterwards with a breathless sound. Kanai, following closely behind, reached his peak at the feeling of his best friend’s spasming against him. With mercy, the red head pulled the tissue away at last. There was a short sense of relief.

Al collapsed onto the hound, his chest heaving and his entire being drenched in a sweaty, musky glow from their intense exchange. His eyes were heavy and glassy, his mind staggering from the adrenaline surge, the pleasure, and the sheer madness of what had just transpired. “Shit…that was fucking….awesome…” he let out a breathless chortle.

Kanai, still trembling from the aftermath, gulped in a few breaths, trying to parse everything that had just happened. He blinked hard, attempting to make sense of the memories that were now fuzzing in his mind, a blend of pleasure and torment. He finally felt like he could breathe fresh air again, with just a lingering hint of the powder making it’s way out of his system. He may need to do a flush. “That was…..unexpected…and slightly cruel…” Kanai managed between gasps.

With a weak smile, Alistar leaned in closer to his friend, their foreheads touching, the sweat from their bodies mingling as they both tried to catch their breath. The silence stretched thick and heavy between them, a testament to the darkness they had just danced with.

Slowly, the red head regained his strength and took a step back, the two of them composing themselves before taking a deep breath of air. “MAN! I needed that…I’m gonna go hop in the shower, wanna wake up the pet and make him wash us off?” Alistar spoke with his usual charismatic swagger, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re an incredibly insatiable creature, Alistar…” Kanai muttered, his voice still heavy with the after effects of their encounter. “But yes, I suppose a shower might be… necessary,” looking himself up and down feeling the grime of their deeds finally settling upon him.

“Draeeeeee~” The red head already started singing, making his way from the room as he leapt into action, ready and willing for more depraved and devious acts of carnal sin.

The End

Author’s Notes: Took me two days of sitting and actually trying to force myself to write but I fucking did the thing. 🫡 hope you guys enjoyed I know it was a bit shorter and less intense than what I do for smut but I still thought it was hot 😏