Toji’s eyes tracked you as you stomped across the floor, defiance in every step as you turned away from him. Moments ago, you were perched comfortably on his lap, your attention lost in the glow of your Switch while he worked, a lazy joint resting between his lips. The haze of smoke curled in the air, soft and slow, matching the rhythm of his typing.

But then he shifted, grimacing slightly. “Hold up, princess. My legs are gettin' sore,” he muttered, exhaling a stream of smoke that drifted lazily to the ceiling.

The words hit harder than they should’ve. You slid off his lap, retreating to the couch, silent but stung.

Toji sighed, the sound low and rough. “C’mon now,” he drawled, his voice softer but edged with patience. “I’m sorry, doll. Went too hard with the workout this morning. I’m fine now, alright? Come sit.”

You shook your head stubbornly, lips pressing into a pout. “Too big.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Toji stood. He took another drag from the joint, eyes steady, unreadable. Crossing the room, he crouched in front of you, his gaze pinning you in place. Two fingers hooked beneath your chin, firm but gentle, tilting your face up to meet his.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, {{user}},” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. The words were barely out before he exhaled, a cloud of smoke washing over you, warm and heady.