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So, returning to the painters apartment (Freddy, Sam thinks?) was actually simpler than he thought, what with most of the aggressive paintings and curseds outside the apartment having been cleared out by Sam.
He had started making a habit of returning every so often to check on how the ones he’d let live are doing, sometimes to trade, sometimes to ask for more favours, and sometimes just to clear out any of the leftover paintlings from the treacherous painting.
That one… He had not gone down as easily as the other two did. While faceless and shadow put up a good fight, they didn’t have the ability (or foresight) to split themselves and hide EVERYWHERE in the apartment. Which brings him to now.
Sam had been brought down by a panicked… Fred. That’s what Sam’s gonna call him. About another stray paintling, this one concerningly bigger than the last few, and now he’s alone in the studio with nothing but an apron, two bottles of turpentine, and a lack of backup, considering Leigh and Dan had ditched him for rat hell.
What a life he has.
He grimaces, taking a look around.
The studio was eerily quiet. If he even took a step, the boards creaked and groaned underneath his feet, the sound echoing around the barren room. Sam could only hear his own footsteps, his own breathing, and the sound of his own heart beating a mile a minute. He had to calm himself. Otherwise, it was likely that he’d make himself more of a target.
He slowly made his way across the room, glancing around every single corner, trying to catch any sign of movement or something green.
It was when he was eyeing a suspiciously colored splotch on the wall, trying desperately not to let the noise he was making distract him, that he heard it: something… shifting?
He stopped immediately, completely still, and tried to keep his breathing still as he tried to pinpoint the source. Something was here. Something was moving around.
As soon as Sam stopped, it did, too. As if it was aware he heard it and was trying to remain silent.
Sam froze. He didn’t feel safe standing right out in the open like this, but didn’t dare move. Whatever was here with him was already big, but by the sound of it, it was also fast.
He was frozen in place. He was too intimidated to move, but he knew that if whatever was in here got him, it would end horribly for him. He gulped nervously, his fingers curling tighter around the necks of the bottles in his hands.
Sam takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the overwhelming smell of paint and chemicals, he’d given toxic the beatdown of his life before, and he’s more than capable of doing it again, especially armed with the paint remover…
Unfortunately, reassurance doesn’t do him any good when Sam finally spots Toxic, who had previously been slinking behind a few leftover canvases. Original Fred was right, this paintling IS big. Big enough to mostly resemble how Toxic Fred looked before Sam killed his main body. And he also looks pissed, to say the least.
“…YOU.”
..Sounds pissed, too.
Sam tensed up when he saw him, fear rising up in his chest as the monstrous paintling slithered out from behind the canvases he had been hiding behind. Sam stumbled back a step or two as he spoke, the expression on his face sending a shiver down his spine.
“…Toxic.”
Sam tried desperately to make his voice sound not afraid. He just prayed that he’d be able to pull it off.
“God, is THAT what you’re calling me?”
His eyes somehow narrow even further, pushing himself closer to Sam on slimy tendrils, leaving a green trail from where he’d dragged himself over the hardwood.
He raises his front in an attempt to properly stare down Sam, minorly succeeding but still a few inches too short. He notices the bit of fear in Sam’s voice, and smirks.
“Yeah, took me awhile to get this big again without the others noticing. Bet you feel stupid now, huh? Coming here all alone.”
Sam’s heart was hammering. He swallowed heavily as Toxic kept going towards him, stepping further back as he did. Sam managed to make his expression as blank as possible, trying to keep whatever he was feeling off his face as he tried desperately to make his voice sound steady.
“You look uglier than I remember.”
“Urk-!”
The angered look on his face goes from bad to worse. He briefly reels back in an offended way, before he harshly shoves a tendril in Sam’s face, nearly hitting him.
“You-! You-!! GOD. you are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something!”
Sam stumbled back with a yelp, falling onto his ass with a heavy thump when he’d attempted to duck away from the offending limb, accidentally dropping the bottles in his surprise. He stared up at the massive paintling with a look of shock, before it quickly disappeared and was replaced with annoyance.
“A-and what’re you gonna do about it? At least I’m not just a shitty paintling.” Sam snarked back as he attempted to scramble back onto his feet, trying not to show any sign of weakness in front of the other.
Toxic pauses, watching him for a second, before he speaks again, his voice low and dangerous.
“No. You’re not.”
A cold, wet feeler coils around one of Sam’s ankles, then the other, dragging him forwards and forcing him to fall back onto his back.
The paint making up his skin bubbles a little, the other literally boiling with rage as his tendrils snake up to his knees, effectively binding him. Toxic takes the chance to move himself on top of Sam’s legs, pinning him to the floor.
“You’re gonna be worse.”
Sam let out a choked yelp when Toxic started to coil his tendrils around his legs and drag him forward, and another yelp when he felt him start to go higher, coiling around his thighs in a tight, unforgiving grip.
He was unable to scramble away as more of the tendrils coiled their disgusting way around his legs, holding him in place. Sam was already panicking, trying desperately to get out from under the paintling, and failing miserably.
Then, one of the tendrils slithered its way across the front of his pants, and Sam can’t hold back a strangled squeak at the feeling.
Everything stops.
It’s silent. The scufflings halted, toxics weird monologue about how badly he’s gonna injure Sam paused, hell, even the regular background noise of paint dripping stopped.
Toxic stares down at Sam, who’s staring up at the ceiling, both absorbing the sound that just came out of Sam.
Toxic speaks first.
“… D-Did you just-??”
Sam slowly turned his gaze back to face Toxic, his cheeks still red. He tries to sound firm, and fails miserably.
“…Shut up.”
Toxic scowls, dragging himself further up Sam’s legs, but wisely stopping before he reached the pelvis area. glaring down at him.
“You’re the one who needs to shut up! Now, answer me. Did you just make a…a sound, or not!?”
Sam tenses in response to the feeling of Toxic crawling further up his legs, shuddering at the cold feeling through his pants.
“…Yes. Fine. I did. Happy now?” He all but hissed, still trying desperately to sound angry.
Toxic looks appalled. Absolutely gobsmacked. As if he himself didn’t both suspect and know it in the first place.
“… NO! Why would I be happy about that? I’m trying to injure you!”
Of course, the rage resurfaces, but there’s also something else? Embarrassment, maybe. This WAS supposed to be an opportunity to hurt and humiliate Sam and Sam did kinda just… moan, in response.
He hadn’t meant for the sound to leave his mouth, obviously, and the fact that Toxic was literally sitting on his crotch wasn’t helping. He tried desperately to regain his breath and keep his face from turning anymore red.
“Well, maybe don’t put your gross limbs on my crotch area, and I wouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t-! I DID NOT!!”
rage melts into fluster, and fluster melts into irritation. Toxics tendrils squeeze around Sam for a few moments, as if he’s considering just crushing Sam to death right there, before he relents, moving to run one of them down his face area with a long sigh.
Sam slumped onto the ground when Toxic retracted his tendrils, letting out a sigh of relief as he finally got to untense properly. He took a moment or two to calm down more, trying to act normal.
…But there’s actually no way he could ignore what just happened. No way either of them would get out of this room with their dignity fully intact.
He stared up at Toxic for a few seconds, before he spoke again.
“…You’re… still on top of me, y’know.”
“Shut it.”
he smacks Sam’s torso region, hitting him between the ribs, and Sam mentally thanks the foresight he’d had to wear an apron, the green splatter left behind does not look like it’d be easy to wash out of his sweater.
Sam winces and rubs at the struck area with a frown.
“Jesus, ow, what was that for?”
toxic gurgles in response, too irritated to bother forming words, but undeniably still mad as all hell. Sam raises an eyebrow and huffs.
He was still a bit pissed that Toxic hadn’t had the common goddamned courtesy to be embarrassed too. But… Sam’s stupid, reckless, annoying brain reminded him of how it felt, despite it being Toxic, of all people, it had felt… really nice to be touched there, after all this time.
…
He shifted his hips, moving slightly beneath Toxic. And, because he’s right on top of Sam, Toxic picks up on the movement right away.
An eye flicks down to check on what he’s doing, before the rest follow. All widening in shock and embarrassment when he realizes the state of Sam right now.
He sputters indignantly, completely at a loss for words as he realizes Sam’s literally trying to grind against him.
Sam’s cheeks were still flushed, though more with shame now, and his breathing was still fast and uneven from before, but none of that stops him in the slightest, determined to make the other as uncomfortable as possible.
He moved his hips again, a bit rougher than last time, and tried to hold back a quiet gasp as he rocked against Toxic.
The other remains frozen for a moment, before nearly scrunching up with rage he coils around Sam’s legs again, forcing them apart, and firmly pressing a feeler to Sam’s crotch, nearly to the point of pain, but still feeling pleasurable.
“Fine, you want that? You wanna be a freak?? FINE.”
Sam moans again, louder and more surprised this time, as Toxic presses against him. A shiver rippling through his body as he pressed himself against the pressure, eyes fluttering briefly.
“Sh-shit-“ he pants, bringing up a hand to try and cover his mouth, wanting to muffle his noises.
“No,”
He feels Toxic climb further onto him, now pinning his pelvis with his body as he reaches up to grab Sam’s wrist away from him, pinning it and roughly coiling around it.
“You wanted this, you deal with the consequences.”
Sam whines in response, a strained, desperate sound, as he feels himself twitch in his pants.
He manages to wrench a leg out from under the paintings grip, bending it at the knee and wrapping it around Toxics… where Toxics waist WOULD be were he still human, biting another few words out.
“F-Fuck off-!”
“Wh- Getting mixed signals, here!”
Toxics body practically oozes on top of Sam, his leg pressing into the mass of paint making him up.
Luckily, despite being a slime-like consistency, Toxic manages to stay mostly solid. Cold, wet tendrils curling around Sam’s waist and tightening just enough that he has a bit of trouble breathing. That apron is.. not gonna protect any clothing anymore.
“Shut up-!!” Sam moaned again, squirming beneath Toxic. He hated how much the cold, slimy substance seemed to affect him. He shifted his hips, doing his best to rub himself against the tendril on his crotch again.
His legs trembled, and he could feel himself losing strength in his arms. Sam tried to fight back, but the lack of oxygen only made him more lightheaded, and he was unable to put up much of a struggle against Toxic.
Toxic makes a conscious decision to ignore the insult. rolling a few of his eyes before wrenching Sam’s thighs apart more, pressing a wet hand against the bulge in his pants, firmly rolling the heel of his palm against it.
“Yeah, how’s it feel, huh? Your friends can’t save you this time!”
Sam moaned again, his voice becoming more high pitched and strained. He rocked his hips into the pressure of Toxic’s hand, grinding against it and gasping breathlessly.
His back arched against the feeling, and Sam was trying his best to glare up at Toxic, but was failing miserably. The grip around his waist was so tight that he was running out of air, but all it was doing was making him more aroused. Though suddenly, the pressure around his waist releases. Arms just loosely coiled around him. Sam nearly asks what the hell made him stop before he hears the other speak.
“…Beg.”
Ain’t no way.
“Wh-?” he choked out, still unable to catch his breath. He stared up at Toxic with a bewildered look, chest still heaving.
“Wh- what’re you-” he took another gulp of air. “Wha-what did you say?”
“I said beg.”
He moves a hand to grip Sam’s jaw, leaving a slimy feeling where his fingers press into his skin. There’s a bit of a manic look in his eyes. Gave him a SMIDGE of power and suddenly he’s drunk on it.
“If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna make it worth my while, yeah?”
Sam’s mind was an actual mess. His body was hot with want, and his brain felt like it had turned to mush. He couldn’t think properly, but one thing he could properly process was the fact that Toxic was holding his jaw in the most degrading way possible, and it was making him shiver.
“P-Please..?” he managed to whine out. He shifted his hips again, pressing up against the tendril again. “Please, just, please..”
The tendril shifts to press Sam’s hips down, motioning for him to continue begging
Sam groans and leans his head back at the feeling of the tendril, before managing to get out an even more pathetic sounding plea.
“Please, m-more..” he moans desperately. Sam tries to grind back up against the tendril, but finds he’s being forced to stay still with a whine. “Please, Toxic, just- just- anything-“
his begging is cut off as he feels Toxic rip his belt open, obviously uncaring of any consequences that could have for future Sam because he’s already shoving down his jeans, stopping once they’re at Sam’s thighs to look at the bulge in Sam’s boxers.
The cursed artist hesitates for a moment, before huffing and shoving his hand down the waistband with no warning, the slick, freezing paint making Sam jolt as Toxic wraps his hand around him.
Sam gasps and moans loudly, his eyes snapping shut as he arches his back with a gasp, biting his bottom lip to keep back another moan. His hips tried to fuck forward, but were still forced down by the tendril around them and the weight of Toxic sitting on top of him. His hands struggled against their binds, wanting desperately to grab onto something.
“F-fuck-!”
Toxics focused intently on every reaction Sam gives, tightening any of his binds whenever he deems it necessary in order to tease Sam further.
The holding turns into slow strokes, before that turns into Toxic just straight jerking him off. Twisting his hand around the head as another tendril reaches up to wrap around Sam’s throat, putting pressure on it.
The grip on his neck was restricting Sam’s air supply once more, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that, too focused on the feeling of Toxics hand wrapped around his cock. He whined loudly, his body twitching and shaking beneath Toxic as he tried desperately to keep his hips from rutting up into the grip. he manages to pant a few words, trying to force something out while he still had the chance.
“Sh-sh-u hic -shhit..-! P-please…”
His begging earns him a scoff.
“Please what, huh? What do you want? Why do you think I’ll even give it to you?”
he punctuates his sentence by oozing further onto sam, pulling his underwear down entirely and letting his dick entirely free, jolting a little in surprise when it smacks onto his front, a wet slap from the paint emanating from it, the sound only serving to make the situation sink in further.
Sam moaned even louder when he felt his cock slap against the gooey substance of whatever paint Toxic was made out of. He panted unevenly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to get the words out with the still-tightening grip around his neck. He choked as he tried to open his mouth to talk, but the pressure was making it too hard to take in enough air.
“D-don’t- st-stop, p-please.”
As Sam’s trying to use his braincells properly, Toxic nearly double takes at the way Sam’s dick is pressed against him, before huffing.
He loosens his grip on Sam’s neck, still coiled around it but not fully restricting his airway, and speaks through gritted teeth.
“I’m only doing this for a lack of other holes, alright?”
And then, without another word, Toxic grips the base of Sam, and literally fucking deep throats Sam in one go, not possessing a gag reflex anymore due to being.. Y’know. Paint.
The sudden wet chill around his cock made him cry out, bringing his attention back to the situation immediately. His eyes went wide and another pathetic sound was ripped out of his chest, as he struggled desperately to keep his hips still.
No way was Toxic actually doing what Sam thought he was doing.
Toxic’s tongue lapped at his tip, trying to lick up a bit of his leaking pre with rough, long strokes before pressing slightly onto his cockslit.
Sam arches his back, a long and guttural sound making its way out of him as Toxic attempted to forcefully keep his hips down, pressing into them roughly with an irritated grumble that just goes right through Sam’s groin.
“F- fucK-!! T-Toxic-!” Sam choked out, incoherent moans escaping him. He wriggles against the grip on his hips, legs twitching and shifting beneath the others grasp to try and get free.
He couldn’t control himself, and he couldn’t fight the way his hips started to roll up into the pressure. He could feel the cold, slimy walls of Toxics throat around his length, and then…
Oh, oh he was going to die.
His whole body twitched and shook, and with one final, long sob, he came into the chill of Toxic’s mouth, gasping and panting and shaking as his body went limp, eyes closing. He slumped against the ground, chest heaving.
He's completely out of it now, his mind fuzzy and clouded with the waves of pleasure running through him. He pants heavily, trying to gather himself a little, but mostly too out of it to say anything. He just manages to lift his head and look up at Toxic.
toxic choked a little as Sam unexpectedly cums down his throat, pulling off of him with a cough and and what can only be described as an indignant snarl.
they both silently stare at each other for a moment, neither wanting to talk first and allow the fact that whatever the hell that was just happened sink in.
Toxics tendrils retract with a grimace from both of them, and Sam attempts to stretch his arms out, only to touch something glass. Glancing over, he can see one of the bottles of turpentine he’d been sent in here with.
it. Was right within his reach. The whole time.
he can hear Toxic laugh a little at his realization.