#creepypasta headcanon
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lostmysockies · 7 months ago
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Fight me if I’m wrong but- I hc that this man has a southern accent when he speaks..
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intimidating-fettuccine · 19 hours ago
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Y/N: So, what are your political beliefs?
Toby, awkwardly trying to impress them: Well, I think Pikachu would be a lot more powerful if he had a gun.
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creek-ink · 6 days ago
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awkward bathroom clean up after a kill- they hate each other <3
detail shots below cut ^^
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noctiva · 3 days ago
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Seeking An Immediate Response
X-Virus x F!Reader [NSFW!]
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WC: 17.4k
Summary: As a college student struggling to make ends meet, an ad for a medical trial in your local newspaper promising big bucks for minimal work seems like a sign from heaven. Maybe, you should’ve read the fine print.
CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, dubious consent, CNC I guess??, mentions of noncon, dead dove very dead dove, use of needles and medical tools, aphrodisiacs, spit and drool, medical kink? I guess? Is there a word for that?, overstimulation, wet and messy, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male receiving), sort of kind of mocking, degradation, slight dummification, unsafe sex, hair pulling, kind of rough handling, misuse of medical equipment, coercion, dacryphilia, power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, kidnapping, again - DEAD DOVE. THE DOVE IS DEAD!!!! don’t come at me I don’t wanna hear it
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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!
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‘Wanted: A willing participant to partake in a trial run of a drug soon to hit the market.
Driving expenses will not be covered, but any adverse reactions will be compensated for - as well as a payment of $1000 USD for every day the participant is active in the trial.
If interested, or for any further questions, contact at the email below.
Seeking an immediate response.’
You skimmed over those words for what felt like a million times over. Sat hunched over your kitchen table, the waxy feel of the newspaper you held slipped against your fingers. Your coffee cup has been abandoned, steam long dissipated, a wrinkle in your brow as your eyes traced over the letters before you yet another time.
It just didn’t seem real. Didn’t seem plausible. You had heard of instances like this before - partaking in some lab trial to earn a hefty chunk of change. Hell, your old roommate had even done it herself, spending a week at a lab getting poked and prodded at, just to return a couple hundred dollars richer.
But this? Your eyes are wide as they hone in on the dollar amount. One thousand dollars a day? Was that a typo? Or was it just a scam designed to easily lure in people like you?
People who were currently eating plain, dry bread for breakfast, because most of the weight of your paycheck had gone into student loans. It was easy for you to see the payout offered and immediately go slack jawed, a half-chewed bite of bread falling out of your mouth and hitting your dining table. If you participated for just one single day it would be enough to lift a pretty heavy weight off of your shoulders. If you participated for more than that (a week’s worth of that kind of money almost made you feel dizzy) maybe you’d actually be able to go eat out at a restaurant for once. Maybe, you’d be able to buy a brand new pair of jeans, instead of sewing up reoccurring holes in your old ones.
It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Something that seemed as if it was written just for you. Too good to be true, almost.
’A trial run for a drug soon to hit the market’. You purse your lips together. ‘Any adverse reactions will be compensated for.’ There weren’t a whole lot of details. In fact, there was really barely any. No name of the drug, no expected duration of the trial, no location or name of the company that was supposedly conducting this entire program. Just a small wall of text, barely more than a paragraph, but words picked out just meticulously to entice.
It seemed horribly sketchy. Barely any ounce of trustworthiness encoded within those words. It was almost like a taunt. Who’s going to be stupid enough to agree? Who’s desperate enough to turn a blind eye towards the jarring inconsistencies?
You. You were.
You could feel it in your bones. Taste it on your tongue. That desperation that was clawing its way up out of your chest, nearly drooling at this opportunity - dangling money over your head like you were dog on a leash too tight. It made your fingers itch, twitching and jolting with the desire to race over to your laptop and send an email as quickly as you could.
You were smarter than this. You knew you were. But desperation is the ultimate demoralizer. So, despite the clear danger, you find yourself rationalizing.
Maybe, the only couldn’t give the name of the drug due to copyright purposes.
Maybe, they didn’t name themselves because they’re too big of a company. Wanting to retain anonymity in order to not sway responses.
Maybe, that’s the same reason they didn’t give the location of the study right away.
They’d probably answer all of your questions, if you just shot them a message.
Besides, what was the harm in just… Asking? All you needed to do was satiate your curiosity a little bit. Give it a morsel to pick at, so that it wasn’t left to scratch at the bars of your mind - leaving you shaking where you sat. You don’t even know how long you just sat there, your coffee cooling beside you and your lacklustre breakfast all but completely forgotten about. Long enough for you to memorize the ad complete, having read over the words so many times that your eyes started to feel dry. You don’t even know if you’ve blinked. Breathed. Absolutely shellshocked by what the universe had decided to present you with today.
Was this fate? It had to be. Maybe, god had seen you struggling, and decided to extend a hand out towards you. All you had to do, was take it.
You don’t message back right away. You fold the newspaper back up on your kitchen table, pour out your freezing cup of coffee into the sink, and do your dishes. You walk back to your room, go through your closet, and find a comfortable outfit to wear for your classes that day. Brush teeth, brush hair, make sure you have a pair of headphones in your bag before you leave. Going through the motions of the day, actions that you’ve repeated so many times that you feel as if you’re on autopilot.
On a normal day, but today its increased tenfold. You barely even feel mentally present as you tug a pair of jeans over your hips, eyes far away and foggy as you stare blankly at yourself in the bathroom mirror while brushing your teeth. You just couldn’t stop thinking about it. At the vagueness of that message. Of the opportunities you’d be presented with if you went ahead and did it.
On your walk to class you’re doing math in your head of how much wiggle room you’d be left with if you sent half of the money over to paying for your schooling. Maybe, you could just keep all of it and continue sending over your paychecks instead. Maybe, if you kept finding listings like this you could just… Quit.
In class, you’re worse. Your professors words aren’t even reaching your ears. Just a monotonous drone that barely even sounds like the English language as you sit stewing in your thoughts. Maybe you could buy that nice sweater you saw when you were out window shopping last week. It was only $100 - that was barely a dent. You could fill your cart at the grocery store too! Fill it to the brim with items you’ve had to pass up on time and time again because they just didn’t make it into the budget. Fresh meats, ice cream, the good bread that’s nice and fluffy instead of stale before you even get it out of the bag.
By the time your classes are over for the day, you’ve all but convinced yourself. It’s just hard not to. Not to think about how much better your life would be if you participated. How quickly your quality of life would raise just but barely lifting a finger.
When your old roommate did it, all she had to do was let herself get pricked with a needle once and she was rolling in cash. You could only assume it would be a similar situation for you, and the idea of that is pretty much the definition of enticing. Free money. You’re being offered free money. And a lot more than you had seen other people make from something like this in the past.
Maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe the risk is higher.
Regardless, you’re pulling your laptop out of your bag mere minutes after stepping back through the front door of your apartment. Kicking off your shoes lazily, you scurry over to your couch with such urgency that you nearly trip over your rug. But, you make it, stanching the newspaper off of the kitchen table where you left it before you flop down onto the worn cushions. With your laptop perched in your lap, your flip the paper back open to the page where you had first seen the ad. Right at the back, squished in with a whole bunch of other advertisements that had paid to be there. So unassuming. No pictures, or logos, just text. Easily skipped over.
But not by you. You’re typing up an email in record time, eyeing the email address printed to make sure you get it correct.
’To whom it may concern,
I came across your listing for a medical trial in my newspaper, and I’m very interested in participating.
Could I ask for a few more details? Are there any specific requirements for being in the trial? What sort of drug is it? Any known side effects?
And, who are you exactly? A research company, or is this a university study?
Regardless, I’m interested. I could really use the money haha’
You’re not quite sure why you tacked on that last little line at the end, but it must’ve been your desperation seeping through. A little bit of candidness in the hopes that whoever was reading your response would realize that they were talking to a real, living and breathing human. Hopefully, that would encourage them to be just as honest with you as you were being with them.
You hit send, and let out a deep breath. Again, no harm in just simply asking.
Knowing not to expect a response right away, you set your laptop on the coffee table before you and stand up once more. Socked feet padding against carpeted flooring as you mosey over to your kitchen, searching for something to warm your stomach after a full day of stress and overthinking. You already know what you’ll be eating, and one quick look within your cupboard confirms that notion.
Instant noodles, again. God, you really did need that money. Hungry, but your appetite is barely excited to be fulfilled with the same damn meal you’ve eaten for weeks on end. You can taste it on your tongue before you even make it. Bland noodles. Broth that has far too much salt in it. A sprinkling of dehydrated vegetables that turn to mush the moment they meet the water.
And yet, you pull out a pot anyway. Fill it with water life you’ve done so many time before. Set it on the stovetop and turn the burner on to high heat because of your impatience. Monotony. Something that might just be fixed if you can get a little bit more cash in your pockets.
Money wasn’t everything, and you knew that, but it sure as hell helped.
The water barely comes to a simmer before you hear your laptop chime. Almost too soon to be from who you were hoping it would be, and yet you’re racing back over to the couch immediately - fuelled by hope and desperate desire. Knowing its pathetic, but not caring in the least. The more you thought about it, the more you knew you needed it. The more you hated the situation you found yourself in. The more you wanted something better.
And maybe, life decided to be on your side for once.
Sitting in your inbox, bold lettering that makes you eyes widen to an almost painful degree.
’Drug trial inquiry.’
You click on the message so quickly it makes your finger cramp, the meal you had been cooking completely forgotten about even as the pot on the stove reaches its peak. Steaming and sputtering drops of water over the edge, but you couldn’t care less. You were too busy obsessing.
’Hello, thank you for your interest in our study.
No specific requirements are required for the trial, besides wanting someone between the ages of 18-24, with no pre-existing medical conditions,
Do you meet those perimeters? We’d love to meet you if you do.’
That was all it said. Short and sweet, only answering one of the five questions you had inquired about. And the one they picked, required the least amount of information to be leaked. It was avoidant. Barely professional. It made goosebumps rise on your arms and trickle down to your fingertips, which had begun to tremble.
Everything just seemed… Wrong. Too much money, too little information. Too good to be true. So many warning signs. Like they were giving you ample time to see that this was a trap just lying in wait. But, they (whoever they were) had struck gold when it came to you, because you were just too curious.
Just too desperate.
‘Hi,
I do meet those requirements, but you seem to have missed the rest of my questions? Do you think you could clarify on those fronts? I’d much rather know what exactly I’m getting into before I take the plunge.’
You type out the message with a frown tugging at your lips, your heart thudding to a frantic beat in your chest. Your skin feels cold, head feels fuzzy. Worry and dread swirling together in your skull to create a whole new emotion - one that wreaked havoc. One that made you feel a little nauseous as you hit the send button.
One that had you needing to close your eyes and take a deep breath as you awaited a new response.
You get one even quicker this time.
Your laptop chimes again mere moments after you had sent your last message. If you had timed it, you wouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was less than a minute of wait time. Like they had been sat at their own computer, just as eager as you, just as frantic as they waited for a response.
The sirens in your brain just blared louder.
’Hello,
I did not miss them. If you’re still interested, the address below will have all of your answers.
Tomorrow, nine am sharp. No earlier, no later. If you miss your chance that is on you.’
You could throw up. You feel like you might do just that, as you sit on your couch with bated breath, your mouth feeling drier than a desert. If you were getting bad vibes before, now they were horrible. The words of that email were desperately clinging to the facade of professionalism, but it wasn’t working. Not at all. Admitting to their own avoidance of important questions. Odd ambiguity. A bad idea all wrapped up in a concise paragraph.
You don’t recognize the address. It’s not somewhere close by. Not somewhere in the city, if you had to guess. One quick google search revealed that it was far off of the beaten trail, not a single laboratory in sight as you scanned the images on street view. Nothing but dirt trails and jagged trees. The photos staticy and blurry, like they had been taken ages upon ages ago.
Like no one had been there in a very, very long time.
You gulp thickly, Swallowing back the bile rising in your throat as you try to regulate your breathing. The pot on your stove boils over, water hitting the burner and evaporating instantly. You don’t even look at it.
But you do send another email.
’$1000 a day right, that wasn’t a typo?’
Short and sweet. Just like they had been.
And even though you’re expecting now, an even quicker response sends a chill down your spine. Mere seconds after you’ve sent your own correspondence now. Like an echo of your own message, bouncing off of the walls of cyberspace and straight back to you in a fraction of a minute.
’$1000 a day. Nine am. I will be here.
Will you?’
A beckoning call. That’s what that was, and you knew it. It didn’t sound like a confirmation for an appointment, something they were scribbling down within a calendar. It sounded like a taunt.
I have what you want. Are you brave enough to come get it?
That’s what it sounded like. It sounded cruel. Sarcastic, even. Like they knew what you were going to respond with before your email even pinged on their end.
And well, you just play right into whatever sick twisted game this was. Scared, apprehensive, but hopeful. Hopeful that this was what you were hoping it would be. Something easy and quick, something that would leave your pockets heavier without much distress.
Something that you wouldn’t regret.
‘I’ll be there. I want to see the cash up front when I get there.’
You barely even get the words typed down properly, fingers flying across your keyboard like you were trying to respond before you could think about the situation fully. Hands trembling, the message is wracked with typos that you have to go back and correct, giving you one more chance to really mill it over before you bit the bullet.
This wasn’t smart. You knew it wasn’t. Everything about this - from the grandiose benefits to the strange communication with whoever was leading the entire thing. They didn’t sound like a researcher, or a correspondent of one.
They sounded like someone who was trying to trap you.
You send the email anyway. Eyes squeezed close as you hit the send button with more force than you needed to. Like you were ripping off a bandaid.
And the response you get back, just pours salt in the wound.
One word. One simple word. Packing within it more than the person on the other side of the screen could ever know. Or maybe, they did know. Maybe that’s why they said it.
‘Greedy.’
And you know right then, that you aren’t talking to someone who has your best interests in mind. You’re talking to someone who’s toying with you - tugging you around like a marionette on strings. Someone who was finding a sick pleasure in knowing that they had something you would quite possibly endanger yourself over.
Someone who was mocking you, and making sure that you knew it.
Sitting behind their own screen, probably grinning like a madman as the glow of their computer lights up their features in a cool virtual blue. Waiting for you to respond, because they know that you will, even if they only sent you one simple word. That one word was bait, the worm on a hook for a gullible little guppie like you, just taunting you with the promise of salvation. All you had to do was bite.
You do.
‘Who are you?’
You’re far past formalities, far past pretending that this was a professional correspondence. This conversation had devolved. Devolved from the fallacy of a patient and a doctor, to the king and his jester. And boy, did you sure know how to dance.
‘Who do you want me to be? A doctor? A researcher? Some undergrad student?
Does it matter, at the end of the day? You’re still going to be wishing you said yes, if you don’t. You’re still going to be sat in your shitty little apartment, wondering what you could’ve been doing instead if you had a couple more bucks in your pocket.
We both know what this is.
You, are someone so desperate for cash that you’re willing to keep talking to me even though I’m sure you’re having second thoughts by now.
I am a person looking for a participant to test something I’ve been working on, and I’m willing to pay to make that happen.
This is my last message to you. I have said to you everything that you need to know. If you want to know more then meet me at nine am.
Ask for Cody.’
The message reeked of annoyance and frustration. Like whoever this was (Cody? Is that who you’re speaking to right now?) was peeved for your undying curiosity. Growing more and more irritated at the fact that you weren’t just rolling over so easily. Receptive, clearly, but too damn nosy.
And so, they dropped the act. You hadn’t noticed it until right then - but the pronouns they had been using had switched after the first message they had sent you. “We” swapped for “I”. A slip of the fingers, maybe, but it spelled out the truth for you regardless, even more than the email you had just read did.
This was not some easy, cut and dry drug trial. This wasn’t a professional lab, with protocols to follow, and controlled environments. This was just… Some guy. Some guy searching for an ignorant slew of people to test his homemade concoction on. Like a child in his basement, mixing up ‘potions‘ for his parents to try out. You had known from the beginning that this was something fishy, but you felt far over your head now. Staring at this wall of text before you, slack jawed and wide eyed, your rumbling stomach is long since forgotten - replaced by a sickening wave of nausea that you were sure would’ve weakened your knees if you were still standing.
So bad, that you lift a hand to your mouth, as if to try and catch the vomit you could feel churning in your gut. You could feel your mouth start to water, feel a cold clamminess bead up on your palms. Your body somehow too hot but too cold at the same time. Ears ringing, the room spinning around you as you reread those same few paragraphs over and over again. Your free hand finds the trackpad and you scroll, going over each and every message the two of you had bounced between one another. The pool of dread in your gut just growing headier and headier every time you pass your eyes over what you had said. What they had said.
How they had just dropped the persona completely, once they knew that they had hooked you.
Maybe, it was your own fault. If anything, they had probably known they had gotten you from the very first message.
‘Regardless, I’m interested. I could really use the money.’ A try at honesty to gain trust, and yet all it had done was place a target on your back. From the start, it had been clear just who you were.
Someone so desperate for cash that you were willing to keep talking to them. They had read you like a damn book, front and back. Maybe you should’ve made it a little harder for them.
You barely sleep that night. You don’t eat the dinner you had been planning to. You let the water in the pot evaporate all the way down to the bottom - leaving white water stains on the stainless steel, and the ceramic of your stove top where it had boiled over. You simply shut off the burner, place the pot in the sink, and head towards your room - dead eyed and dreary. You shut your laptop, and leave it on your coffee table. Something about bringing it to bed with you that night felt wrong. Like maybe, they would be able to hear you. See you. Maybe they already had been.
How else would they have known you were messaging them from your little shoebox apartment? Assumptions, easily made, but there was such an unshakable itch of uncertainty under your bones that it felt difficult to listen to rational thoughts right now.
You had opened a can of worms that you were sure couldn’t be as easily closed. Even if you didn’t show up tomorrow, would that be the end of it?
Or had you doomed yourself, just because that dollar amount looked so delicious?
Hedonism, at its finest.
You toss and turn, your sheets feeling itchy and uncomfortable. Your pillow too stiff. The air around you too cold, but the air beneath your blankets too hot. Closing your eyes for mere seconds at a time before they’re fluttering back open again, blinking against the darkness to stare up at your ceiling. Your brain fills in the gaps of stimulation, formulating swirling shapes of colour that you know don’t truly exist, and yet you watch them anyway. Watch them twist and turn, ebb and flow. Fluctuate in shape, form, and colour.
You spend most of your night that way. Sprawled on your sheets - half of your body covered in your blanket and the other half bare - only blinking when your eyes began to burn and twitch. Honing in on the make believe, as a distraction of what you had forced yourself into in the real world.
You didn’t have to go, you knew you didn’t. You could delete all of those emails, throw that newspaper in the trash and forget it all existed. You could worry, but you doubted whoever this was would actually track you down for refusing their offer.
They had even said it themselves. ‘If you miss your chance that is on you.’
If you said no, they’d probably just find someone else. Someone just as hopeless as you, looking for salvation in places that you definitely shouldn’t.
Maybe someone worse than you. Someone who wouldn’t even ask questions. Someone who would just abide and obey, so long as they got the cheque at the end of it all.
That’s probably what you should’ve done. It would have saved a whole load of stress.
You’re still lying on your back when the sun rises. Still bleary eyed and breathing shaky when the sun starts to peek through your curtains, cloaking you bedroom in warm tones of gold and pink
The worst part, wasn’t the fact that you knew you were being toyed with.
The worst part, was that you knew you were just going to give in.
A recipe for disaster. Red blaring lights surrounding the entire interaction. The only thing positive, was the money. That damn price tag. So you had to ask yourself, was one thousand dollars the dollar amount you were going to place on your life? Was that all that you thought you were worth?
You’d like to say no, but your empty pockets were still beckoning you otherwise.
If things turned out being too strange, you’d just turn around. You could even bring that pepper spray your mom had forced you to pack when you first left for university. You could send your location to all of your friends, make sure to keep your cellphone on and close by at all times. You could take precautions.
See the cash for yourself, find out if it's all a farce or not.
And so, you do the same as you always do in the morning. You roll out of bed on the left side, drag your feet to your closet and pick out the same outfit you wear every single day. A different pair of jeans, a different hoodie, but you’d doubt that anyone who wasn’t you would be able to tell. You pull your hair up into a haphazard bun, splash a handful of cold water on your face to try and wake yourself up more, and rinse with a mouthful of mouthwash before you spit it out in the sink.
You walk to the living room and don’t spare a glance at your laptop - like it was guilty, not you. Shunning it as if it were the one who had done the damage, for it just couldn’t be you and your greedy fingers, could it?
Your phone is fully charged, and you stuff it in your bag. That, along with a can of pepper spray, and a box cutter you had kept around after you had first moved in. Two weapons that were definitely quite dinky in the grand scheme of things, but it was better to have something to benefit you than to show up empty handed. Besides, you were hoping that you wouldn’t even have to use them anyway.
You could always turn around, and forget it all happened.
You just needed something a little bit more to feed your curiosity. Once you got that, you could just go back to daily life.
And so you step through your front door, and lock it behind you. Your keys jingle as you stuff them back in your pocket, the soles of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum flooring that made up the entryway of your apartment building. Through the hall, down the stairs, skipping the elevator because it always got stuck. Your feet were moving so quickly that you felt more so as if you were floating, rather than actually stepping on solid ground. You can barely even feel the warmth of the sin beating on your skin when you step outside - like you aren’t even truly inhabiting your own body. Just a jumble of disorganized, self-destructive thoughts and plans, so disconnected from everything else around you.
The drive is a blur.
You don’t remember sitting in your car, or setting the gps. You don’t remember driving. Don’t remember analyzing each and every minute detail of your surroundings.
You were at home one minute, and sat outside a decrepit looking building the next. Like somebody had reached within your skull and ripped out a handful of your memories.
With your car’s engine still running, you just sit there for a moment. Staring through your windshield with wide eyes and laboured breathing, in a state of both awe and complete bewilderment that you actually brought yourself here. That you actually did it. Some beast who lived within you - one who was fuelled by nothing more than greed and morbid curiosity - took the reins and tugged your body towards this… This death trap.
That’s what it looked like, at least. The building you stared at was far off of the beaten trail. Right at the end of a dirt road beginning to be covered up by grass regrowth. Bare, spindly trees surround it. The middle of spring, and yet they bare no leaves. Dead. Rotting. Hollow corpses that played the part of what they used to be.
The building itself, sends a shiver down your spine. It looks abandoned. If not, then whoever owned it couldn’t care less about upkeeping appearances. The brick of the outer walls was cracked and chipped. One window shattered, one boarded up, and the others cracked beyond all repair. Weed and shrubbery overtook practically the entire front lawn, with just one foot trail of stomped down grass cutting through all of the chaos.
Showcasing that somebody had been here. Recently at that.
Was probably in there right now, waiting for you.
A quick glance down at the clock on your dashboard made it more than clear that had to be the truth. 8:57.
Even with your brain clocked out for the greater half of the journey, you still managed to be punctual.
You’re not quite sure what it is - the time constraint, the desire for knowledge, maybe the fact that you were already here - but you find yourself pulling the key out of your car's ignition. Find yourself unbuckling your seatbelt, and opening the side door. Feeling much the same as you had just a few hours before.
Floaty. Not in control. Like you were living a dream.
If all of this went well, maybe you really would be.
You grab your bag before slamming your car door shut, slinging it over your shoulder and taking a deep breath in before you force your legs to move. Leaves and rocks crunch under the soles of your shoes. The sun is warm and yet the breeze that brushes past you still sends a shiver down your spine. The breaths you take are short and shaky, just like each step you take.
One foot after the other. Hands gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it makes your knuckles go white. You don’t even notice that you’re gritting your teeth until your jaw starts to ache.
When you reach the front door - which looks as if you could break it down with barely any effort - you don’t even hesitate. If you do, you know that you’ll just end up thinking too much and turning right on your heel.
Maybe, the issue was that you weren’t thinking enough.
Regardless, you knock. Three sharp raps against the wood, sounding so loud in the otherwise vacant scenery you found yourself in. You don’t check your phone to look at the time. If you were late at all because of all of the stewing you had been doing, then so be it. You would take that as a sign.
But of course, no sign from god. One from the devil instead.
You hear the sound of glass breaking. Muffled voices, and then footsteps. Growing louder and louder with each one. Approaching you.
You start to feel lightheaded.
When a lock clicks, and the doorknob turns, you feel queasy.
The door opens barely more than a sliver. Just enough for whoever is on the other side of it to be able to get a peek at you. You can’t see much of him. Just the side of his face and part of his shoulder, but just that is enough to unnerve you. You can’t see his eyes. Can’t see his mouth. A pair of bright orange goggles and a muzzle-esque mask hides those features from you. The sunlight glints off of the lenses of his goggles, making it impossible to try and discern what may lay below them. Even if you could, a shaggy mop of brown hair falls over his forehead and obscures them ever further.
Definitely not a researcher.
You’re not quite sure how long you just stood there staring at him. How long he stood there staring at you - neither one of you saying a word. Like some unspoken game of chicken, seeing who would crack and cave under the pressure first.
Surprisingly, it's him.
”What d-do you want?” His voice is low and raspy, muffled partially by the mask he wore. He still doesn’t open the door further, but you do notice the way his neck sharply cracks to the side before he’s letting out an annoyed grunt. “You got-gotta be pretty damn stupid to come knocking at a place like this. Even i-if you’re lost.”
”I’m not lost.” You mutter back to him, straightening your back and letting out a shaky breath through your nose. “I’m here for the lab trial? This is where the directions lead me.”
The man on the other side of the door stills completely. In fact, you’d swear he completely stopped breathing for a moment. Then, he opens the door a little further. Your eyes scan across him, his attire, cataloguing each tear and stain on the hoodie he was wearing. Some, definitely just dirt caked in deep, other were dark enough to spike a wave of panic within you. Your eyes drift back up towards his face and your mouth goes dry.
A crudely bandaged hand comes up to lift the goggles off from over his eyes, pushing them up into his hair. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen on anyone before, with even darker bags beneath them. His eyes are sharp. Scrutinizing. Looking more so like they belonged on a bird of prey, than a human being.
So stunned, it would be easy for him to sink his talons into you.
”L-Lab trial?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. His gaze is unblinking, making your stomach twist and turn with an uncomfortable queasiness. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so sick, so often, within such a short span of time.
You don’t answer verbally, can’t force yourself to without fear of your last meal crawling up your throat. So you just nod, hands starting to tremble where they still grip the strap of your bag. The man lets out a soft hum, seeming to think on it for a few more seconds before he opens the door completely. “Alright. Sure. L-Let me show you to the lab then.”
He lets out a snort of laughter, like he knows something you don’t, before he’s turning on his heel - clearly expecting you to follow.
You do. Through the doorway, into the darkened exterior of the building. Lighting was sparse, in the main entryway it seemed as if the only source of it was daylight coming through the windows. The floor was littered with broken glass and old pieces of scrap. Any furniture was either broken beyond further use, or stained to all hell.
You were starting to think that this man may be right. You’ve got to be damn stupid. “Who’re you he-here for?” The man asks from before you, not bothering to turn his head to meet your gaze. He walks leisurely, hands in his pockets, feet kicking up debris with each step. Through the main area, now down through a hall. Further and further from the front gate. Further and further away from your car.
You’re making a mental map within your mind of the floor plan already. Just in case you need it.
”Uh, Cody?” You try, your voice coming out much shakier and much hoarser than you had meant it to. You clear your throat and let out a little huff before continuing. “I don’t… I don’t really know. That’s the only name I was given.”
”O-Oh you’re fucked.” The man lets out a harsh laugh, a sound that rips from his lungs and splits through the air - like he just couldn’t hold it back no matter how hard he tried. “Sorry, sorry.” You can see his shoulders shake, still very clearly attempting to hold back another bout of laughter. “Yeah, C-Cody’s the guy you’re looking for alright. It’s his lab after all.”
You know you should turn around. You should turn around right now, and book it towards the entrance before you get in too deep. This guy wouldn’t chase you down, right? He wasn’t even the one who was expecting you.
And… You could probably outrun him even if he did, right? All you had to do was make it to your car.
“That right?” You mutter, lips tugged down into so deep of a scowl that it made your jaw quiver. The air around you felt stale. So much so that your lungs ached and your chest felt tight with each breath in. Everything within this building seemingly honed to make you as uneasy as physically possible. Especially the man before you, and the way his limbs spasmed and jerked in an unpredictable pattern. Joints cracking. Soft grunts slipping from his lips every now and then. “Then who are you? His assistant?” It’s a stupid question and you knew it. You were far past believing that any of this had even a semblance of professionalism to it.
But playing the game was a lot easier to stomach.
“Assistant?” The man rounds a corner and starts down a flight of stairs - skipping down the steps without an ounce of care. You can’t do the same. Your legs are trembling with each step you take, joints turning into goo as you descend lower into the maw of the beast. It gets darker. One singular lightbulb at the bottom being the light source for the entire journey down. It would be easy to trip up and lose your footing, if the man before you wasn’t so confidently leading the way - like he had done this trip a million times before. “Sure, I g-guess. I help him out here and there.” For the first time during the entire trip, he glances back at you over his shoulder. “Like right now. You w-woulda probably been standing out there for hours knocking if I wasn’t he-here. He’s deaf to the world when he’s d-down here.”
”Well, he said he was expecting me.” You breathe back out. “Nine am sharp.”
”He’s been up since four.” The man snorts before hopping off of the last step and turning towards you. “Probably d-doesn’t know what time it even is right now.” He waits for you to join him on the landing, concrete beneath your feet, before he’s reaching out to the door at the bottom of the staircase. This one looks a lot more heavy duty. Solid metal, and you can pick out at least three different sets of locks.
Stepping through that door had to be the worst idea thus far. “Crazy that the g-guy with no internal clock is trying t-to make appointments.” His hand closes around the handle of the door, and he turns it before giving it a little tug.
To your surprise, even with all of the security measures, its not locked. It gives way on the first pull. “C-Cody, there’s some girl here for ya’.”
The man steps into the room, but not before reaching out to you and taking a rough hold of your arm. He pulls a yelp from your lungs when he drags you across the threshold with him, finally answering the question you had been wondering about throughout your entire interaction.
Was he as dangerous as he looked? The strength of his grip answered that pretty quickly. Tugged into a new room, with your assailant kicking the door closed behind him, you feel as if one wrong move would have him breaking your arm on accident. (Or, on purpose? You didn’t even know anymore.) “You g-gotta start paying attention. I got my own shit to do, y’know?”
”Huh? Is it nine already, Toby?” A new voice has your head snapping in the direction of it. You had been fruitlessly struggling against the hold you had been trapped in, but that sound had your motions ceasing completely. It was soft, monotone, and smoother than silk. The exact opposite of the other man - ’Toby’, you suppose.
The differences really stop there though, because you feel as if you’re feeling double. A choppy mess of brunette hair, pushed off of his forehead by a pair of goggles with blue lenses this time. Dark circles just as prevalent, like he hadn’t slept in days.
It sure looked like he hadn’t. He was curled over a microscope, absolutely abhorrent posture in the swivel stool he sat hunched. He didn’t look up. Gloved hands switching between slides to observe, his knee bouncing absently - like his own internal metronome. “Set her on the bench and get out. Close the door behind you.”
He - Cody - spoke like you weren’t even there. Like you were an object, not a human being just like he was.
Toby seemed to find no issue with that.
”S-Sure, dick.” He snorts out an amused laugh before tugging you over to what looks to be a bed, the same kind you’d find in a doctor’s office - complete with the waxy sanitary sheet to cover the surface of it. With one rough shove, Toby’s pushing you onto it - but not before snagging the strap of your bag in your shocked stupor, ripping it from your body. “Don’tcha worry.” He laughs when you immediately shoot back up and reach for it, holding it high above your head and lifting a leg to push you backwards with his foot. “You’ll g-get it back. You just don’t need it right now. R-Right, Cody?”
”Uh huh.” Finally, the man looks up to you - bright green eyes glinting under the overhead lighting of the lab. “Stop making a fuss, would you? Toby didn't drag you all the way here against your will, did he?”
Something about his gaze paralyzes you. One look from him and you were turning to stone, your heart rate kicking up a few notches in your chest. The way he was looking at you… It wasn’t like one human to another. It was far less connected than that. As he watched you uselessly try to grab for your bag back, he looked at you with all the interest of someone watching a trail of ants scurry past.
Curious, but with no empathy behind it. Just pure, unbridled, scientific fascination.
“No.” You choke out, and lower your arms. Cody tracks each and every movement. Especially when you fold completely, and take a few steps back. Letting Toby just turn around and walk away with your bag in hand, snickering to himself as he makes off with your phone, and every single weapon you had brought to try and avoid a situation like this.
Your entire ‘plan’ was going downhill extremely quickly.
”That’s what I thought.” Cody stands, letting out a little sigh through his nose before he removes his goggles completely and sets them on the lab bench before him. Then, he’s rounding it. Approaching you. Gloved hands folded behind his back as he does so. “You decided to contact me, you decided to come here, and you decided to follow some strange man all the way down here.” He comes to stand before you, and cocks his head to the side. “You’ve got no reason to complain, do you? You could’ve avoided this all.”
He nods his head towards the bed you had sat on for a total of five seconds before leaping back up again. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.”
You barely even hear the sound of the door closing off to the side. Definitely don’t hear the sound of a lock clicking shut. It’s like he had you under some sort of spell, exuding a cool - almost clinical - form of confidence that made your entire body feel cold. You felt like a patient, just blindly believing everything their doctor says because they must know best.
You take a seat, the sheet crinkling loudly beneath you. “Good.” He doesn’t say that like a genuine praise, more so just an acknowledgment of something he had expected. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move. Just stares down at you through his bangs, his gaze unwavering. “So, why did you come?” He asks. “You sounded awful wary over email last night.”
So it was him. This was the man who had been messaging you. Taunting you. You supposed that you shouldn’t be shocked by his apathetic attitude.
”I still am.” You murmur, fingers curling into the fabric below you. “You lied in your ad.”
”Lied?” Cody raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t lie. Everything I wrote there was the truth.” He takes a step closer, and tilts his head down a little bit. “Besides, you would’ve come even if I had, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Why? Why are you here?”
His gaze is piercing. Like he’s staring through you rather than at you. Like he’s got you under a microscope, staring down at your bare essentials. Cells and all.
“I need the money.” You mutter, shifting where you sit. “Real bad.”
”Well, I bet you do.” Cody lets out a soft snort through his nose. Barely a laugh. Like a hollow imitation of one. “But that can’t be all it is, right? What’s the use in money if you won’t leave here alive?” He leans down a little bit further, and raises an eyebrow, his face still completely monotonous. Not a single change in his expression that you could pick up on. Like he was wearing a porcelain mask that would crack if his lips so much as twitched upwards. “Money’s useless to the dead, you know.” When your eyes widen in panic, his eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher, before he’s taking a few steps backwards again.
This was a game to him. It had been from the start. “Not that I’m threatening your demise, I’m just saying. You took a pretty big risk.” He casts you one last look before turning back around and slowly walking back to his lab bench. “Just for money? I doubt that. If you’re truthful with me, I’ll be truthful with you.” You watch as he slowly peels the latex gloves from his hands, before dropping them in a wastebin right at the corner of his desk. Mere seconds later, he’s reaching into a drawer to pull out a new pair. “I’m going to ask one more time, and what you say is going to determine how easy this is for you.” He pulls the new, sterile pair of gloves on with a snap that rings through the air. “Why are you here?”
With no weapon, no phone, and no easy way to escape, what other choice did you have than to just submit? For all you knew, Toby was stood at the other side of the lab door - waiting to catch you if you tried to make a break for it.
”I was curious.” You bite out, casting your gaze off to the side. “That’s it.”
Cody stills, his shoulders tensing and relaxing where his back was turned to you. And you can’t see it, but a grin stretches across his face. Wrinkling the expression you were sure was impermeable.
”Right answer.” He hums. He rounds the lab bench once more before reaching forwards and reaching for a breaker of something you couldn’t discern. It was a cool purple tone, near fluorescent. “Curiosity is a good thing, you know? It’s what keeps humans going.” Out of a drawer, he grabs a syringe. Your breath catches in your throat. “If humans weren’t curious, we’d never have evolved. We’d still all just be mindless monkeys, picking bugs out of each other’s fur.” His nose wrinkles a little, but he shakes it off quickly. “I’m curious. That’s why I do what I do.”
”Yeah?” You watch with rapt attention as he dips the tip of the syringe into the beaker, before pulling the plunger upwards and filling the chamber with the mystery substance. “And what is it exactly that you do?”
”I study.” Cody answers shortly. Once the syringe is full to the brim, he places the beaker back where it once was. “Humans. Our reactions to things. How fragile they are.” His gaze flicks up to meet yours. “What our limits are.”
He reaches forwards and places the syringe in a holder - clearly to lie and wait for further use.
”Did you go to school for any of this?” You choke out. “Like, do you have qualifications? Or are you just some nutcase with a homemade lab?”
”Lets not start name calling.” Cody sighs softly, his lips twitching into a frown. The way he looks up at you, it’s like a disappointed parent scolding a child. Not really mad, just barely irked. “I think I’ve been pretty nice to you, can’t you do the same?”
”Not until you tell me what you’re going to do to me.” Your response is immediate. Snippy. Packed with enough annoyance to make Cody’s brow wrinkle. “What’d you just put in the syringe? Is that what you’re using on me?”
Cody pauses completely, his movements still as his gaze locks in on you. Again, he takes a moment to just stare, to analyze you, before he’s letting out a soft sigh.
He makes his way back towards you, this time wheeling his lab stool back over to you before taking a seat. He leans forwards, knees on his elbows, as he stares up at you through the messy strands of his hair.
”Yeah, it is.” He answers back to you matter-of-factly. “Want me to tell you what it does?”
Immediately, you’re nodding. You’re realizing at this point that getting pricked seemed to be unavoidable, so you’d much rather know what you’re getting into than go in blind. “It’s a… Stimulant.” He hums softly. “I don’t know, I guess you could call it an aphrodisiac. I want to see if it’s as effective on humans as it was on my rats.”
”Your rats?” You choke out, eyes wide. Definitely not what you should’ve been focusing on, out of what he just told you, but you think that dwelling on what else he had just said to you might just make you pass out.
”Yeah.” Cody lets out a soft chuckle. “My rats. Darwin and Remy. They took it like champs. Curious to see if you’d do the same.”
”What…” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, your mouth feeling extremely dry all of a sudden. It almost hurts to swallow. “If I let you,” You begin, stressing that fact, “What’s going to happen to me?”
Cody merely smiles, as if this conversation was nothing more uncommon than speaking about the weather.
“I’m not 100% sure.” He breathes back out to you, tapping his fingers absently against his knee. “That’s why you’re here, after all.” He notices the way your entire body tenses at that, and lets out a little hum. “But if I had to guess, it’ll probably go a little something like this;” He scoots his stool a little closer to you, wheels squeaking against linoleum. “You’re going to feel really hot. Feverish. Probably going to wish you could crawl out of your own skin.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching the way they turn glossier with each word he speaks. “Your mouth is going to water. Drool accumulating like a faucet’s turned on. And then all that heat? It’s going to travel down low. Right where you want it the least.” You nearly flinch, and he smirks. “Think… A cat in heat. That’s what you’re going to be, if all goes well.”
”Why?” You choke out, scooting back on the bed a little bit to try and get away from him. “Why would you want to see that?”
”Same reason you’re here.” Cody hums back to you. “I’m curious.” He kicks off of the bed and pushes the stool backwards, sending him right at the edge of his lab bench again. “And I’ll let you know this - You can say no, but either way, you won't be going home.” He reaches behind him, snagging the abandoned syringe between his fingers and showing it off to you. “You sealed your fate, the moment you knocked on my door. I can’t just let you leave now that you know what I do here. Now that you’ve met me, and Toby no less.” Using his feet, he wheels himself back over to you. “I don’t think anyone’s ever met us and lived to tell the tale.” He snorts. “Not unless they stay.”
You feel dizzy. So much so that you need to grasp at the sheets below you as an attempt to ground yourself. You had known from the first message that this entire thing was a trap, but having it all laid out for you? There were black dots spotting your vision. “So, two options.” Cody holds the syringe between the two of you, his eyes glinting. “Let me experiment on you, and earn a couple bucks - as I said before, I’m not a liar.” You take in a shaky breath. “Or, say no, and I’ll throw you over to Toby. I can bet he’d find something useful for you to do.”
”That’s a lose-lose.” You mutter back to him softly. “I was going to use that money for student loans.”
”Well, then it's actually a win, no?” Cody raises an eyebrow. “Won’t have to pay for loans if we keep you here. You’d be gone. Off the grid.” He taps the syringe impatiently. “So? What’s the plan?” He points the syringe towards you, and you can’t help but flinch. “I’ll warn you though, Toby’s not known for being hospitable.”
”And you are?” You bite back, narrowing your eyes.
”I’m nothing but respectful to my specimens.” He gives you a sickening smile, one that sinks into your bones like a toxin. “I’ve had Darwin and Remy around for years.”
”Your rats.” You clarify, raising an eyebrow.
”Yes, my rats.” Cody lets out a soft chuckle, and it seems as if he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m a good caretaker, I promise. This is a fairly ethical lab.”
“Kidnapping isn’t ethical.” You point out, lips twitching down into a frown.
”Good thing you came here of your own volition.” Cody scoots closer, hovering the syringe close to your skin. Close enough to make sweat bead up on your brow. “I’ll be nice to you, I swear it.” He murmurs. “I just want to… Document you.” He cocks his head to the side. “Will you let me? I think it’ll be worth it.”
It’s the illusion of choice. Tricking you into believing that you had any semblance of power in the matter. You didn’t. You were just a pawn to be played now.
”And there’s no chance of me leaving?” You can’t help but ask just one more time. That fact doesn’t feel real to you, won’t sink in properly. To think, that just yesterday you had your life completely planned out for you. Now, you just had to float along, playing into the whims of two clearly ill-intentioned men.
One of them seemed… A little bit kinder though. If kind was even the word you should be using in this scenario.
”There’s no chance.” Cody nods back to you. “Not alive, anyway. That’s what we do, make people disappear.” He pauses. “Well Toby does, for the most part. I just like toying with them before we throw them in a ditch.” His eyes flicker with something unhinged, his fingers tapping against the glass of the syringe. “You’re my first living specimen in a while, that’s how you know I’ll be careful. Don’t wanna break you.”
He shifts his hand, letting you feel it when he just barely scrapes the tip of the needle against your neck. Your entire body tenses up immediately, your muscles locking up in fright. “You really don’t have to be so scared, you know.” His other hand reaches up, the coldness of his latex glove cupping your face in a gentle hold. Barely even squeezing, just enough to tip your head to the side a little more. “This is probably… The least scary drug I’ve created in a long time. The fatality rate is less than 2%”
”There’s a fatality rate?” You squeak out. With the huff he lets out, you don’t even have to look to know that Cody is rolling his eyes.
”Too many questions.” He mutters. “Some of the shit you buy off of the shelf have even worse percentages, so don’t go latching onto words just because they sound scary.” His fingers give your jaw a light squeeze. “So? Say it. Yes, or no. Or I’m picking for you.”
With such a rigged outcome, you feel as if you just have to go with your gut on this one. Even though he’s quite literally holding a needle to your neck right now.
”Yes.” You mutter out the word so softly you wouldn’t have been surprised if he missed out on it completely. But, he was close enough that your whisper meets his ears like a soft breeze. Just one simple word, and yet it was the most lovely thing he had heard in a very long time. Your eyes flutter closed in silent resignation, so you can’t see it - but Cody’s lips curl up into an incredibly self-satisfied smile. Little dimples appearing in his cheeks, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.
He had known you’d say that.
”Good. You’re going to feel a slight pinch, that’s all.” That’s all the warning he gives you. After that, he’s pricking you. Piercing your skin with the needle and making sure it slides right into a main vein. “You’re probably going to feel… Tingly as it circulates.” He murmurs as he presses his thumb down on the plunger, slowly dispensing the full volume of the drug right into you. He watches in fascination, how your body just drinks up his creation - watching the fluorescent liquid disappear beneath your skin. “It’s nothing to worry about, it just means it's working.”
You can already feel what he’s talking about. Your veins feel warm. Starting in your neck at the injection site, down your arms and shoulders. Swirling in your chest, pooling in your heart to pump the rest of the way through your body. You try to keep your breathing even, even as Cody’s hands slowly pull away and the needle is dislodged from your skin, but it's incredibly hard to stay calm.
Even though Cody’s voice is soft and soothing. Speaking to you like any kind doctor would. Calm, collected, knowledgeable. Giving you any detail you’d like to know about your procedure.
Sure, he only told you once he had you trapped, but regardless.
You were counting your small wins. “Okay.” Cody pushes his stool back off of the bed frame again, wheeling his stool back over to his work station once more. He reaches over to drop the used syringe into a sharps bin, before once again removing the gloves he had been wearing. It was almost comical, the way he felt a need to change them between each and every little thing he did.
Another small win. At least he was sanitary. You wouldn’t be getting sepsis from this, hopefully. “Now’s the fun part.” Cody doesn’t grab a new pair of gloves this time, instead he reaches for a clipboard and a pen - collecting both items before wheeling back over to you. “I just get to watch you.” He grins. “How are we doing now? Feel anything yet?”
Short answer, yes. The sensation was strange. It was as if you could feel every ounce of blood flowing through your veins. Like when you drink something cold, and you can feel it travel all the way down to your stomach - giving you a pretty clear reminder that you were just a machine made of fleshy parts all working together to keep you breathing.
You were more aware of that than ever. You could feel your blood rushing around, feel your lungs expand with each breath you took. You could feel your eyelids move over your eyes with each blink, could feel your throat contract each time you swallow down the saliva that had begun to accumulate in your mouth.
But, you’re not quite sure how to put that all into words, So instead you just say,
”I feel…” You breathe out a shuddering breath, curling your fingers into the sheet beneath you. Looking up to meet his gaze, but your vision swims. Cloning the man before you into double right before your very eyes. “Jesus Christ this stuff works fast.” You gasp, before bringing one hand up to prod at your face. Rubbing your eyes to try and clear up your vision a little bit, pinching and pulling the skin of your cheeks to try and ground yourself with that sharp sting. It doesn’t work.
”Yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned that.” Cody snorts, observing your pathetic state with one eyebrow raised and an amused smile tugging at his lips. You’re shifting and squirming, unable to sit still for the life of you. Breathing so heavy you’re practically panting, but he’s sure that you don’t even realize that. There’s a flush beginning to creep onto your cheeks, so potent that it's spreading down your neck too. Sweat beads up on your brow, fingers fiddling with the hem of the sweater you were wearing. “Try and put it into words, though. Are you hot? Do you feel restless?”
”Hot.” You agree immediately, slumping forwards a little where you’re sitting. You're definitely panting - damn near hyperventilating - saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth that you have to swallow back down. It’s just replaced by more as soon as you do though. “Fuck- Can you…” You let out an involuntary whine, so disgruntled that your body barely knows what to do than to act like you are at your core - a scared little animal. “Is there AC in here?” You gasp out. “There’s gotta be, right? I feel like I’m dying over here.”
”No AC.” Cody snorts, shaking his head in amusement before scribbling something down on the clipboard perched on his knee. “In fact, it’s pretty cold in here already. Usually is.”
”You’re fucking with me.” You grit out, a shudder going down your spine as you reach up to dab at your forehead with the sleeve of your hoodie. It comes back to you drenched. “This isn’t fucking funny.”
Cody seems to think otherwise, because right after you speak he’s letting out a soft huff of a chuckle that he can’t bite back. He scribbles down something else, all whilst gnawing at his bottom lip to try and stop any other small bits of laughter from slipping out.
”I told you this was going to happen.” He hums, before meeting your gaze once more. “Why don’t you take your sweater off? You might make yourself overheat.”
If he had said that to you the moment you had walked in, you probably would’ve had a lot more fight left in you. Probably would’ve cut him a harsh glare and called him a ‘creep’ within a fraction of a second. In your current state, you’re stripping the heavy material off of your body before he can even finish his sentence.
It lands as a crumpled heap on the cool laboratory floor, and the relief is immediate. The sweat on your skin meets the air around you and cools, giving you a slight reprieve from the hell you had been enduring beforehand. Your chest is heaving with each breath, and Cody can see now that it was even worse for you right now than he had expected. It definitely did work faster on humans than it did on his rats. Or maybe he flubbed the dosage a little bit.
Regardless, you looked like you were melting.
That pink flush he had noted extended down your neck, over your collarbones, and swept across your chest - which was rising and falling to an uneven rhythm. It was creeping down your abdomen, hell even down your arms and up to the tips of your ears. You looked like you were burning up from the inside out. Your skin was glossy with a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to your forehead because of it. Your lips are parted as you breathe raggedly through your mouth, eyebrows scrunched together in discomfort. “You’re not in any pain, right?” Cody asks you softly, his eyes scanning across your body as you shift and squirm - as if you were trying to wriggle out of your own skin. “Just uncomfortable?”
”More than that.” You gasp out, your eyes near pleading as they flicker up to meet his. Pleading for what? You didn’t even know. Anything that would cool you down. “I feel like I’m.. I’m burning up. Melting.” You learn forwards a little, and extend a shaky hand out towards him. “Do you have water? Anything?”
”I don’t.” Cody frowns, his eyes flickering between your hand and your reddened face. Such a pitiful sight really. He scribbles down a couple more notes. “You’re really struggling, aren’t you?”
”Yeah.” Your brain feel foggy. Like the heat you’re consumed in has melted it into a pool of goop. Every logical thought you try to form fizzles out before it comes to fruition, evaporating into the air. Right now, there were only two certainties.
You might just combust, or pass out if you don’t receive anything to help your situation.
Cody can help. It’s his lab, after all.
And so you’re left grabbing at him, fingers clawing at his knee through the fabric of his jeans, the contact making him jolt and scoot his stool back a couple inches. “Cody, please.”
“Please, what?” Cody raises an eyebrow, keeping his gaze trained on you - dodging your advances when you try to get your hands on him once more. “Hands to yourself.”
You ignore him.
”I can’t stand it.” So overwhelmed, that tears spring to your eyes. Blurring your already hazy vision before they’re breaking free and rolling down your face. Just like the rest of you, they feel hot as they streak your cheeks, your entire expression crumpling in complete and utter defeat. “You said-“ You sniffle. “You said you’d be nice.”
Cody’s eyes slowly widen, his gaze tracking the trail of a teardrop before it rolls off of the tip of your nose and hits your thigh - leaving a small stain on your jeans. Your face was wrinkled in discomfort, your entirely body trembling where you sat. Your heavy breathing had turned into strained, choked off gasps - devolving more into a state of panic than anything else.
You were a mess. Melting in a pool on the bed before him. He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. When he had tested it on his rats, the effects had paled in comparison - it just made them more eager to mate. You were falling apart right before his eyes.
”Jesus-“ Cody breathes out, his lips pursing together for a moment as he decides exactly which route he was going to take with you here. It’s not that he hadn’t expected something like this to happen - in fact that was the entire point. But having it right before his eyes, having you begging with tears streaming down your face… That was something else entirely. He had seen many, many people sob to him before - begging and pleading for him to spare their life.
He wasn’t quite sure what you were begging for. His eyes scan across your face, narrowing slightly in thought. “I’m not going to touch you.” He finally huffs out, before dropping his clipboard on the ground beside him and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Why not?” You ask, leaning forwards on your palms and peering up at him. Desperate, definitely. But had you not been from the start? Cody watches as a bead of sweat rolls down your temple, and lets out a soft, disbelieving snort.
”Because that’s not what this is about.” He chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to sit there, and just let me observe you - regardless of how uncomfortable you get.” He cocks his head to the side. “You’re not going to make me strap you down, are you?”
He watches as your eyes widen, how your irises flicker with something so far removed from the fear you had walked into the room with. Pupils blown out wide, your gaze was heady - practically heating up the air around the two of you with just one look. He knew what you were thinking, could see it in the way your gaze trailed from his face, down his neck, across the length of his arm to settle on watching his fingers fiddle with the pen in his hand. Nearly drooling. There was a glossy sheen on your lips, saliva bubbling in the corners of your mouth.
And you just can’t sit still. Shifting, trembling, rubbing your thighs together in a way that was far from discreet.
Cody lets out a short huff of breath, pinching his eyes shut before reaching up to rub them.
It wasn’t even that you were difficult to handle, his brain was. He should just make true on his threat and tie you down - watch you wriggle and squirm in discomfort for a couple hours until the effects wore off. But for some reason, that just didn’t seem as… Appealing. Not with how you were looking at him like he was a God. The answer to every single trouble you were facing.
And maybe… Maybe you weren’t too far off with that. Maybe he could be.
And so finally, he moves. Stands up slowly with you watching each and every little movement. How his hair looked so feathery soft as he reached up to run a hand through it. The sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor as he made his way back over to the lab bench - unhurried, dragging it out. Making you feel even more pathetic than you already did, because he just seemed so indifferent. So apathetic towards your situation, while you were sitting behind him falling apart at the seams.
He doesn’t say a word when he turns on the faucet at his sink. Doesn’t make a peep as he washes his hands clean, before drying them off and retrieving yet another new pair of gloves. Pulling them on just as he had done with the last two pairs, before grabbing a couple other things out of the drawer that you couldn’t get a good look at.
Then, he’s back over to you, staring down at you with that same gaze he had before. Clinical, detached. Like you were nothing more than a pitiful animal. “Open your mouth.”
It takes a few seconds for the words to register - your mind so clouded that every sound around you sounded far away and foggy. But he was looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised, making it quite clear that he expected you to listen.
Which was fair. You were his experiment after all.
And so you do. You swallow back a mouthful of drool before parting your lips - your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling as you stay that way, waiting for his next move. “Good.” Again, such hollow praise. “Now stick out your tongue.” You follow that command just as easily as the last one, your heart thudding against your rib cage in anticipation - excitement - for what he had in store for you. You can feel saliva pool in your mouth again, but you don’t move a muscle. Not until he tells you to. Not even when it begins to drip off of your tongue, staining the fabric of your jeans even further.
Cody wrinkles his nose and purses his lips, but he reaches forwards regardless - pressing two fingers down against your tongue. “Such a mess.” He mutters out, right as you let out a soft whimper and jolt at the contact. The latex of his gloves felt so cool in comparison to your body. Like he had dropped two ice cubes into your mouth.
You can’t help but savour it.
Your lips close around his fingers, a soft moan rumbling from your chest when you suction to them and suck. Licking up that rubbery taste like it was a lollipop, your eyes fluttering as you take in a shaky breath through your nose.
Cody, nearly stops breathing completely. Your mouth is so warm and wet, so eagerly sucking his fingers in like it was a gift he had bestowed upon you. Barely even doing anything, and yet you were eating it all up eagerly. Greedily. Grateful for any sliver of physical contact he was allowing you. “Did I ask you to do that?” He asks you, and yet he doesn’t retreat. In fact, he pushes further. Sinking his fingers into your mouth until his knuckles are hitting your teeth - the tips of his fingers grazing your throat.
And that’s when he realized something quite… Interesting. You weren’t gagging. Even when he pressed a little further, far enough that any average person would have been choking and sputtering by now. But you? You were just taking it - jaw slack, your throat welcoming the intrusion happily.
Were you always like this? Or was it a product of what he had done to you?
He pulls his fingers from your mouth slowly, ignoring the way you whine and try to suck them back in, before he finally has you releasing them with a wet ‘pop’. “No gag reflex.” He comments quietly, looking down to eye his gloved hand - fingers now drenched and glistening with your saliva. “Is that normal for you?”
You swallow thickly, lips glistening and chin smeared with your own saliva, before you slowly shake your head. It was hard to deny how empty your mouth felt now that Cody’s fingers were keeping you satiated. You just can’t take your eyes off of them, licking your lips at the memory of how they had felt against your tongue. Imagining how they’d feel elsewhere.
”No.” You whisper back to him, as you shift closer to the edge of the bed. You reach out again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. Letting you curl your fingers around the hem of his hoodie to tug him in closer. “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Cody eyes your hand as it paws at him, tugging at his sweater almost frantically with trembling fingers. His lips twitch up at the corners, a wry little smirk stretching across his face. “Well, I guess it could be, yeah.” He hums. “I just didn’t expect it, is all.” He extends his hand out to you again, and you part your lips on instinct, but he doesn’t humour you - instead snorting out an amused laugh before his fingers curl around your throat instead, smearing your own saliva against your skin. Just barely squeezing, enough to really feel your pulse beneath his fingertips. Fluttering like a bird in a cage, so frantic he would almost be worried. Almost. “It must act as a relaxant, just as much as it does a stimulant.”
His thumb rubs against your throat, the smooth latex of his gloves collecting your own sweat against it. You really were burning up. It was even more evident now that he was actually touching you. Warmed to a feverish degree, heat radiating off of you even from a few inches away. No wonder you had started crying about it so quickly. “Didn’t plan for that, and yet I think you’re right. It’s a good thing.” He gives your neck a gentle squeeze, watching how your eyes just go hazier when he does so. Your pupils are practically swallowing your irises now, the colour of your eyes barely even distinguishable. “A little two for one deal.”
He uses his grip to tilt your head upwards. His eyes warming at the sight of you - just being pushed and pulled around so easily. So pliant. Happy, so long as he’s touching you.
He’d bet you’d let him do quite literally anything to you right now. The perfect little lab rat. “In fact, I’d say I outdid myself.” His hand slips up and back, sliding into your hair cup the back of your head whilst your fingers tangle within the strands. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Uh huh.” Your answer is mindless, voice choked off and shaky - struggling to keep your watery eyes open as you lean back into his touch. “Cody-“ You say his name like you’ve known him for ages, all sweet and soft, like you have the right to beg for his attention. He doesn’t seem to mind though, if anything you’d swear you saw his gaze soften. “I need…” You take a moment to take a breath, so overwhelmed that you’re beginning to feel lightheaded. “Please, just keep touching me.”
“Yeah? Is that what you need?” His fingers curl into your hair, the latex of his glove squeaking when he tugs your head back. Not harshly enough to hurt, but enough the pull a gasp from your lungs. “I don’t normally take orders from my rats, you know.” His smirk widens into a toothy grin. “But then again, they usually can’t talk.”
You let out a pitiful whine, tugging him in closer by the hold you still have on his sweater. Close enough now that you’ve got him right between your thighs, staring down at you with such a subjugating gaze it makes your joints feel like goo. Was it the drug that was melting you, or was it him? “So difficult.” He mutters, before reaching up with his free hand.
You don’t truly realize what happening until you feel a cold, hard object slipping past your lips. It feels as if it expands, forcing your jaw open wide - leaving nowhere for your drool to go except to drip past your lips and slide down your jaw.
You let out a surprised whimper that comes out sounding gargled, your eyes widening like a deer in the headlights as you look up to shoot a questioning gaze. “If you want me to help you, I’m going to need you to just sit back and relax.” You hear a click, and then Cody’s hand is retreating. “No more asking questions, no more whining, no more begging.” He leans his head down a little, soft tufts of brunette hair tickling your forehead. “So, here’s the deal. If you want me to touch you, you’re going to hold these forceps snug in your mouth.” He reaches up to tap them, watching how your jaw quivers. “If you drop them, I stop.”
You let out a watery sounding whine, eyebrows scrunching together as you try to swallow back all of the dool accumulating in your mouth. You fail miserably. You can feel it trailing down your skin, leaving your chin slick. “If you don’t want to play, then we won’t. But if you want me to touch you that badly, these are the rules.” His thumb smooths against the skin right below your ear. “What do you think?”
At this point, you think you’d do quite literally anything if it meant he would soothe the ache in your bones. And so you nod - slow and shaky, as you breath raggedly through your nose. This earns you a smile, and Cody’s grip loosens minutely. His fingers scratch against your scalp, a soothing sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. “Good.” His hand slips out of your hair and trails down your neck, sweeping over your collarbones before it ventures lower - cupping your breast so gently you can barely even feel it. But its enough. Enough to have you jolting. “You know,” His fingers graze over the lace of your bra, a soft rumble of appreciation slipping from his lungs. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a partner, especially one so pretty.”
His fingers squeeze, kneading the supple flesh beneath them - watching the way your eyes flutter when he does so, listening to the strangled whimper you let out. “Never have time. Too much to do.” His other hands smoothes down the expanse of your body, settling on your waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your skin. “I never… Search it out. Never really have a reason to. There are much more important things to focus on besides such… Primal desires.” He gently peels your bra strap down your shoulder, then the other one, before he’s tugging the material completely below your tits - baring you to him. You hear it when his breath hitches. “But I suppose I am human too. To fight what my biology desires, that’s just an insult to the work that I do, isn’t it?”
You don’t know if he’s genuinely expecting an answer, but you can’t give one regardless. Choking on your own spit, your mind swims as your feel a gloved finger roll your nipple beneath it, before he’s pinching it softly. “I wonder… What would you be like if I hadn’t dosed you? Just as reactive?” He repeats the action, toying with your nipple, palming the fat of your chest until your tits are quite literally tingling from sensitivity.
Before, his hands felt like ice compared to you, but now it seems as if the heat is coming from him. Instilling a warmth that stemmed from his fingertips, travelling down low, swirling in your gut, before it reaches your core. And so you’re shifting and squirming, your whole expression crumpling as you attempt to placate yourself even just a little. You can feel it, how your panties have just grown wetter and wetter - you’d bet they were completely soaked through by this point. Clinging to your folds, making you let out a gargle whine every time the fabric of your jeans brushes up against you. “I really did outdo myself, hm?”
Cody knows why you’re so restless. He can practically smell it, for fuck’s sake. The arousal radiating off of your body, charging the air with an electricity that sparked every time his hands met your body. And well, you’ve been well behaved. You haven’t once let the forceps so much as slip, even as you sputter over the drool flooding your mouth.
You had been so good. Such a fine specimen. It would only be fair to reward you.
And so his hand slides down lower, fingers curling below the waistband of your jeans - your hips kicking upwards immediately at the contact. “Ah-“ Cody shoots you a look, raising an eyebrow at you. “Be patient. Take what I give you.”
Slowly, he undoes the button of your jeans, popping it before the zipper comes down in quick succession. Then, he’s tugging at the fabric. “Poor thing, you’re so warm.” He keeps his right hand occupied with your tits, switching between the two to make sure each got an equal amount of love as he toyed with them. “Lift your hips.”
You don’t even hesitate, letting him peel your jeans off of your without an ounce of pushback. The fabric was damp with your sweat, clinging to your skin before he removed them completely and threw them to the ground. “And these too..” Your mind is hazy when your panties come off too, goosebumps pebble your thighs as the cool air of the lab hits your glistening cunt. “That’s better.”
Your underwear joins the rest of the clothing om the floor, and now you sit before him - practically completely bare with him fully clothed, shivering under his gaze - drool leaving your face and chest glistening whilst your inner thighs shine with your own slick. “Such a pitiful thing.”
Cody takes a step back, but not before he’s reaching up and finally removing the forceps from your mouth - making you let out a soft sigh of relief as your aching jaw is finally given a chance to relax. “Swallow. You’re making a mess.” Cody drops the forceps to the ground with a metallic clang, and you do just as he asks - gulping back all of the saliva that you were indeed making a mess with. “You have any idea what you look like right now?”
When a gloved finger meets the centr of your chest, your breathing hitches. It trails down the line of your sternum, down lower and lower, until it’s resting just below your belly button. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so pathetic.” He presses into your skin, right above your womb, like he was feeling the shape of your insides through the layer of your skin. Then, the journey continues. Inching down until his gloved hand meets your cunt, cupping it gently. “Can’t even think. I’ve turned you into a little doll.” He grins when his thumb presses down against your clit, watching how your body all but crumbles - a look of such unadulterated relief taking over your expression. You hadn’t been lying, you really did need this. “I wonder…”
He rolls your clit beneath the pad of his thumb, rubbing slow deliberate circles that make your breathing go shallow - your mouth dripping open slack as gasps and moans catch in your throat. “Do you even know how you’re acting right now?” Your slickness collects on the latex of his gloves, to which he smears it against your folds with an amused grin. “Would you be ashamed of you did?”
All he gets in response is a soft whimper. Just about the response he expected. “I’ve killed people, you know.” He murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he slowly sinks a finger into you. He can’t help the shudder that wracks his shoulders as he feels your inner walls wrap around him so deliciously. Somehow even hotter than your mouth was, and so much tighter. So incredibly relaxed though, sucking him eagerly, just like your throat had. You entire body was begging for it. “Ended countless lives with the hands you’re letting touch you right now.”
He gently pumps the digit into you, feeling you just go even more pliant with each movement. Struggling to stay upright, you’re nearly falling into him now, using your grip on his sweater as an anchor. When he adds another finger, you really do crumble. You nearly double over, falling into his chest and smearing drool against the fabric. Gasping into him as you leave his sweater stained and damp, helplessly rutting your hips back to meet his movements. “You don’t even care though, do you?” He scissors his fingers open, stretching you open even wider, and you sob. “Even if you weren’t drugged beyond all hell, you still wouldn’t, am I right?”
His other hand slides down to grip your waist again, tugging your hips back to meet him as he plunged his fingers into your cunt over and over again. Curling them in just the right way to leave you choking out moans to be muffled against his chest. “You knew it was a bad idea, but you kept talking to me. You showed up here, pushed further even though your gut was telling you something was very, very wrong.” The pads of his fingers rub against your gspot, prodding at the bundle of nerves until he could feel your tears wetting his hoodie. “You fell right into my arms. You wanted this, didn’t you?”
Verbal communication is completely lost on you now, too busy drowning in a pool of ecstasy to form a single word. Too brainless to even truly process what he was saying. So, you just nod. Bucking your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers as the heat within you reaches a fever pitch. “I know.” He hums softly. “I know what type you are. You just want someone to take care of you, don’t you? Someone to make it all easier for you.”
He can feel it when your cunt starts twitching around his fingers, hear how your breathing was getting more and more frantic. Building and building, until- “I could do that for you.” Until it all snapped.
You let out a broken sob against Cody’s chest, clawing at him near frantically as your release hits you with such a force it makes your ears ring. Makes your vision white out. Leaving you to do nothing but completely melt into Cody like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He was. It felt like his body heat was the only thing to exist to you right. The only thing that was real.
“Cody-“ You gasp out, pressing your face further into his chest - almost as if you were trying to crawl beneath his skin, curl up snug in his ribcage to hide from the overwhelming intensity of what you felt. And yet, the heat persisted. You felt like you may just combust all over again if his hands ever left you. “Don’t- Don’t stop-“ You plead, still rutting up onto his fingers even when the overstimulation made your gut twist. “More-“
“What did I say about begging?” Cody tuts softly, ignoring your wishes as he pulls his fingers from your sopping wet cunt - before delivering a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll turn you back into a tool holder again if you keep whining.”
You sniffle softly and shake your head. Hair sticking to your face, moist with sweat and drool, you peer up at him as your bottom lip trembles. “I’ve given you more than enough, but you’re going to act like this?” He scoffs softly before grabbing your hips with both hands and tugging you to him. “I thought about just strapping you down and setting a camera up.” He murmurs, before releasing you - only to reach for the buckle of his belt.
Your heart leaps in your chest. “I’d let you cry your heart out, and no one would be around to hear you.” He slowly undoes his belt, eyes on you the entire time he pulls it from the loops of his jeans. “Not anyone who cares, anyway.” Your eyes are wide as you watch the button of his jeans come undone, before he’s tugging down the zipper and the waistband of his boxers rather quickly after. Freeing his cock with a soft hiss, he reaches down and curls his fingers around the base, giving it a few languid strokes. “What would you have done, hm? Beg me to let you go? Or would you do the same as right now, and beg for me to touch you instead?”
You know the answer, but to say it would drag you down even lower than you already are. So instead, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him right to you - the length of his cock sliding against your slick core. Cody lets out a near startled moan and immediately reaches down to grab your waist and still you. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He breathes out. His other hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you close to his chest as he ruts up against you languidly. Slipping through your folds, the head of his cock catching on your entrance every so often. It makes your breathing stutter every single time. “S’alright though. Told you already, you won’t have to worry about much here.”
Finally he gets himself lined up properly, taking a deep breath in as the hold on your hip tightens. Then, he’s pressing in, slow and steady for both of your sakes - though he’s probably the one who needs it the most. He had known that the feeling of you around his fingers was just a taste. So tight and warm it nearly makes his knees buckle, his eyes fluttering with each inch in. “Oh, that’s good-“ He groans out, hips bucking forwards even more, getting a couple more inches enveloped in your sweet velvety heat. “You.. God, you were made for this.”
With one last nudge, he sinks all the way in - his hips meeting yours in a motion that had you both moaning into each other, sparks zapping up your spine. “I might just-“ Cody’s hand slips from your waist downwards to grasp at your ass instead, latex clad fingers digging into the soft flesh as he draws his hips back. “I might just keep you this way.”
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, clinging to him as your thighs tremble around his hips. He just filled you so good. You didn’t know if it was from the drug swirling around in your veins, or if he really was just an incredible lay, but you didn’t really care. As his hips start to rock, you’d swear you could feel your brain melt out of your ears. Static filling your skull with each nudge of his cock against your walls. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” His voice is deeper now, raspy, strained like he was having to dig in deep to pull the words from his lungs. “Let me get you all loopy, begging for my dick day in and day out?”
He’s pulling you back against you with each thrust, leaning down to press his lips against the crown of your head - soft groans muffling into your hair. “You’d never have to worry about anything again. You wouldn’t even know how to.”
The rusty metal of the bed frame creaks every time your body jolts, the once quiet lab filled with the sound of absolute depravity. Your broken moans and whimpers, his absolutely filthy threats accompanied by panted breathing. Skin on skin, growing louder as the pace of his thrusts picked up - losing himself in you just as much as you were in him.
You can feel him throb inside you, pulsing with desire as your cunt does the same. Tightening up around him, sucking his cock in so good he’d swear he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. Your body was just pulling him in like a magnet, all control lost as he fucked more and more slick out of you - dirtying the front of his jeans and dripping down your thighs. So wet, every thrust was punctuated with a squelching sound that made his stomach flip. Made his ears burn hot. “So wet.” He murmurs out. “You feel incredible.”
You claw upwards to latch your lips onto his neck, drool smearing against his skin as you clumsily attempt to suck at his skin. It doesn’t work well, not with how uncoordinated you are, and so you’re left just leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses against his skin as you muffle your moans against him. He’d swear you were downright chanting his name too, breathing it out between each sweet whimper. Like a mantra. Like he was the only thing you knew existed. Moaning out your devotion, sealing it with the spit you left his skin slick with. “But you’re so messy.”
Cody’s hand curls back into your hair, tugging your head back and away from him - a thin line of saliva connecting your lips to his neck before it breaks. Then, it slips down and around to cup your face, fingers pressing into your jaw. “So dirty. Drooling all over me, making a mess on my cock.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks into a pucker, his hold keeping your hazy eyes trained on his face as his hips snap into yours. Harder. Deeper. Rough enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs twitch. “But you don’t care.” He mutters, huffing out ragged breaths as he tries to fight off his release - dreading the moment he had to peel himself away from your addictive skin. “I bet I could throw you over to Toby and you’d let me.”
“No-“ You whine, squirming in his hold as your squeeze your eyes shut.
“No?” Cody lets out a soft laugh, releasing his grip on your face just to land a couple light slaps against your slick cheek. “Just me?” You nod weakly, moans growing higher and higher in pitch as he brings you to the brink once more. Thighs locking around his hips, whole body trembling as it moves against him. “You really are stupid.” And then he’s grinding the head of his cock against your gspot, catapulting you over the edge with barely even a second to blink before it happens.
So overwhelmed that the tears just double, wetting the latex of his glove when he smooths his thumb against your reddened cheek. You arch up into him completely, your bare chest meeting the soft fabric of his sweater as stars dance behind your eyelids - the moans that slip from your lips so loud, and yet you can barely even hear yourself. Barely even bring yourself back to reality.
All you can focus on is the pleasure that buzzes through your veins and washes over your skin. His cock still pumping into you sloppily, fucking you through your release as your cunt convulses around him. His breath against your skin, hot and heavy, his composure having far too many cracks to stay intact.
His grip on you is near bruising, his moans strained, sweat beading up on his forehead to roll off the tip of his nose.
He hadn’t been lying when he had said it had been awhile since he last got to lose himself like this, and so to break that streak with someone like you? This soft, supple body that just took everything he gave you with no complaints? You were heaven sent. Like a gift from god, dropped straight onto his doorstep.
He fucks you until your moans turn into sweet little satisfied whimpers, and then he’s pulling out - backing up and pulling you along with him. Letting your weak knees give out just so that you crumple to the floor in front of him, staring up at him bleary eyed and confused. “Your mouth.” He huffs out, reaching down and grabbing you by the chin. “Open it.”
And of course, just as last time, you oblige.
Jaw dropping slack, your eyes flutter closed in complete submission. A sight that nearly has Cody’s buckling before he even nudges his cock against your tongue.
His teeth are grit from the effort it takes him to reel it back in, his entire body trembling from the strain of it all as he cradles the back of your head and pulls your mouth down onto him. Slipping into that wet heat so easily, sliding down your throat with not even an ounce of resistance. Even when he started bucking his hips into it, his soft grunts ringing through the air each time your nose pressed into his pelvis.
You really were like a doll, just sitting there and taking it, bare skin against the concrete flooring as your lips suction around him - sucking him back in eagerly every time he pulled out. Moaning every time his length pressed into your throat.
So perfect, he’d feel incredibly cocky over the overwhelming success that his creation turned out to be, but he can’t focus on that right now.
He was too busy falling apart before you.
He doesn’t get to fuck your throat for nearly as long as he’d like to before his hips are stuttering. Nails scratching against your scalp as his fingers curled into your hair, pulling you right down onto him as he finally let go. Hot release shot straight down your throat, you could feel the heat of it settle low in your stomach. Almost too much to gulp down, sputtering as he lazily rocks his hips to ride it out.
When he pulls out, your eyes flutter back open - hazy and unfocused - ears ringing from the intensity of it all.
And Cody looked… Lovely. Red faced, hair slick with sweat, his chest heaving as his expression melted into one of pure unadulterated bliss.
You almost wished you could’ve dwelled on it, appreciated it more, but - you are only human after all, and there’s only so much a human can take.
So you get one last look at him. At those green eyes, sparkling with what almost looked like adoration towards you, before your body crumples. Stars in your vision before your vision blacks out completely, leaving you to be nothing but a pitiful heap at his feet.
When you awake once more, your body feels heavy. Weighted. Your eyes burn as you blink against the bright lights above you, your limbs feeling as if they had been replaced with lead blocks. You can feel something beneath you. Something soft, and yet when you shift - it crinkles.
The bed. In Cody’s lab.
You’re still here. Of course you would be.
You force yourself upwards with a pained groan, the movement immediately enticing a brutal headache to rip through your skull.
Your hand flies up to your head, to your temple - a hiss of pain breaking up the silence in the room.
“Ah, good morning.” You have your eyes squeezed closed, the lights in the lab too bright to bear, but you know that voice. It was the last one you had heard before everything went back. “You slept for… About twelve hours. It’s almost midnight.” You feel a hand come to rest on your back, warm and absolute, like a soothing salve for your discomfort. “I was a little worried, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You definitely needed the rest.”
His hand smooths across your shoulder, and it's then that you realize that you’re still bare. It's then that you notice how cold you are, compared to him. “You look like you’re in pain, is the comedown truly that bad?”
You barely manage a weak nod, and you hear Cody let out a soft hum. “Hm. That’ll be something to work on. I’ll get you painkillers.”
Then his hand retreats, leaving behind a warm handprint against you goosebump pebbled skin. “Oh-“
A pause, and then there’s a thud on the bed before you. Curiosity getting the better of you, you peel your eyes open - squinting against the harsh lighting. And you don’t know if you should’ve expected it, but the sight of a wad of cash before you nearly makes you laugh. You probably would’ve if you had the energy to. “Your pay. Told you, I didn’t lie.”
You don’t even reach for it, though it was the driving force for you even coming here in the first place. It just seemed so insignificant now.
So… Stupid. What was the point even, anymore? It was useless to you now. Just a stack of paper that meant nothing.
Money’s no use to the dead.
And for all intents and purposes, that’s practically what you were right now. Dead to the world, at least. Dead to everyone outside of this lab.
And so you simply shake your head, scooting back further on the bed to distance yourself from it further.
“Keep it.” You force out hoarsely. “I don’t need it.”
And Cody smiles.
He had known you would say that.
————————————————————————-☆
holy FUCK I did not mean to make this so long. oh my god. looked at the word count at the end and my eyes bugged out of my skull
whatEVER cody debut on my blog in the nastiest way ever LOLLLL
thank you for reading!
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junabuggy · 11 months ago
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Ticci Toby headcanons⁉️
A/n: Back and writing for my childhood crush?? Yes, yes I am.
Warnings: None !!
──★ ˙ ̟ 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?
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🪓☆ Bro LOVES animals and insects, especially the ones that most people dislike
🪓☆ Such as centipedes, millipedes, possums, raccoons, snakes, beetles (especially weevils omg) and spiders + many many more
🪓☆ MIDWESTERN EMO BOY!! Guys PLEASE just look at him it makes sense
🪓☆ He has a few freckles and moles :33
🪓☆ The type of person who’s kinda quiet until you get to know him, grows more comfortable with you over time :P
🪓☆ He can be kind of a sarcastic jerk sometimes though ngl 😭
🪓☆ NOT a morning person
🪓☆ Hypersexual
🪓☆ Plus due to his CIPA it’s one of the few things he actually can feel.
🪓☆ Likes to go on walks. And I’m talking HOURRR LONG ONES
🪓☆ Toby’s love language is for sure either quality time or physical touch 💯💯
🪓☆ Besties with Jeff and Jane and is like an annoying little brother to Masky
🪓☆ He’s pansexual !! If there’s a hole there’s a goal 🙏
🪓☆ Tried to pierce his ears by himself once… Yeaaahh they got infected the next day
🪓☆ Absolute LOSER but I love him dearly so it’s alright <3
🪓☆ Waffle jokes and whatever aside, he enjoys both waffles and pancakes equally, not really much of a preference there.
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
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widdowxd · 3 months ago
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He 😈 I made some lil headcanon sketches that I'll prolly post on here at some point but.. here, have this
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crushedsweets · 7 months ago
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They’re all tired
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4kingz · 18 days ago
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ticci toby how he kisses you
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Toby kisses you like the world’s ending in five minutes and you’re the last thing keeping him grounded. It’s not even that he’s trying to be hot about it—he’s just starving for you. Every time. Like he’s making up for years of missed affection in one breathless sitting.
He’ll grab your face like it’s the most important thing he’s ever touched. A little too fast. A little too tight. But the way his thumbs brush your jaw? Pure instinct. He needs you close—can’t stand even a second of space.
“J-Just—stay here,” he mumbles, lips brushing yours mid-sentence. “Don’t move yet. I’m n-not—done.”
He never is.
The kisses come in quick bursts, like he’s not sure how long he has before something takes you away. He’s got this frantic little laugh between each one, almost unhinged, like kissing you is the only time his brain shuts up. And if you try teasing him about it?
“You’re literally obsessed with me.”
You throw it out there half-teasing, half-smirking, expecting a flustered protest or maybe a sarcastic comeback. He pauses for like half a second, just long enough to be suspicious, then tilts his head and mumbles,
“...Yeah? S-so?” Like it's not even up for debate. Like it’s obvious.
That’s all the warning you get before he’s on you—hands in your hair, sliding under your shirt, gripping your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. He doesn’t kiss like he’s in love. He kisses like he’s desperate.
Eventually, he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes still blown wide, lips a little swollen.
“S-say it again.” “What?” “That I’m obsessed.” “…You are.” His lips are back on yours.
Chaotic, clingy, kiss-drunk mess. But he’s your mess.
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ghostgirl101 · 1 day ago
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Hey! Since your requests are open, I was wondering if it was okay to request BEN (the behavioural something network one) where reader is in like, a wholesome dream with the moon children? I’m not to well versed in the arg lore of BEN, but I’m pretty sure they can some how cause nightmare and dreams where they appear, so just wanted to request what a good dream reader would be having with them in it would be like
FANFIC MASTERLIST CREEPYPASTA MASTERLIST REQUESTS
BEN Drowned; “ᠻꪖ꠸᥅ꪗ”
|| Word Count: 1.1K || Angst → (kind of twisted) fluff ||
Warnings: A lot of talk of blood & implied violence
A/N: I don't know how much I stuck to the wholesome side of this request lmao 😭 sorryyyy, like always I have to make all my writing questionably deep, but I was listening to the ocarina of time fairy fountain theme slowed on loop, and this is what my mind came up with 🙃 so enjoy, and look out for poppy playtime fics coming your way soon too - requests are open for the bigger bodies if you've got any ideas 📩 I probably went overboard with my descriptive writing in this fanfic lol
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."̷̬̦̲͓́̽̿͑̉͗͘T̷̂͊̾͜h̶̡̳̥̖̝͙̟͐͌ę̵̳̤̱͕̅̐̏̑͐̊ŗ̴̧̯̙̅e̷͙̥̦͊̿͒̅̑̿̕͝ ̴̡̢͙̞̥̻̲̼̙̈́̍̅b̸̘̆̋̇ę̴̘͙̣̰̭̖̱̈́̊̅͠ͅă̴̩̳͆̆̅͝û̵̡͎̣̜̮͉̉t̵̡̡̺̮͓͉̭͕̝́̔̀̆̈́̐̅̍̆͜y̴̨̫̰̹͉̯̺͖̭͌̎ ̷͚̘̥̻̗͑̆i̷̧̼͙̒̒̓͐͊̀̊̆͘̕n̷͎̩̮̝̱͚͂͒͗̏̃́ ̶͈̊̂y̴͕̝̗̟̺̻̙̼͒̔̈́̉͗̆́̆o̷̽͌͋ͅu̴̖͆͆͋͘͘r̸̖͈͉͛̿̆̒͛͐̆̅͂ ̴̭͕̩̣̌͊͝s̴̖̰̪̙̹̿̓̀u̶͎̟̟͈͐͗̍͗̋f̶̠̐̔̾̐̒̇̾̇̚͠f̸̬̲͎̬͔̭̩̱̌̏̏̂̄̉̓͘͠͝e̷̛̙̘͈̒̀̓̈͗͆̑̌͜͠r̶̨̝̻͑͜i̴̖̗̬͕̥̘̫̪͛̂̄̈́͑̅̀͜͜͠n̷̖̥͂̓ǵ̷̼̥͇̲͆̀͌.̴̛̛̯̯̭͉̿̇̇̓͘̚͝ͅ"̷̤̱̙͗
Nightmare? Maybe.
Every ounce of yourself slips away when you dream. Flushed out like water, like the ocean; pulling back, numbing your senses, dulling the lights to complete blackness. And then you come back as something like yourself again, when the tide comes back in, salt spray stinging your eyes, your nose, spattering your skin in beads of transparent freckles. What you felt - just a whisper of a touch - was amplified in electric jolts, like the world in your head was echoing, pulsing with your blood, every nonexistent slip of skin sending sparks coursing through to the bone, hazy and dreamy and distant, but agonisingly strong.
His skin - their skin - is cold, burning cold. It is tanned to a soft, honey brown, but solid and etched in deep, piercing eyes and beaming grin. Their hair is smooth and silky between your fingers. You barely register yourself reaching up to touch it, an arm wavering and extending out from atop of your sheets into the dark midair, and into the murky brightness of the dream's sky. But when you do, those shockwaves greet you with full, overwhelming force, like a drug, spiralling up your wrist and arms, boiling blood shooting into your brain and releasing in an electric shudder. A harsh breath escapes you at the action.
His eyes sparkle with dark laughter.
It is slow to register it all, never quite knowing when a dream starts, everything in it still forming before and around you as you existed in a haven that was nowhere and everywhere. Something dried and crimson stained a grass patch a stretch of a distance away from you, the grass warm and pastel to your eyes. It was bare and blackened to Alex's. His gifted mask was left bloodied and ripped amongst the flora of pinpricked white daisies, empty eyeholes stuck through by the green blades. A different shudder racked through your body when your stare lingered on it.
Hushing came from every direction - from the skies, which were blanketed with glittering silver-lined clouds and azure sleepy blues, from the ground beneath your curled up form, from the wind, murmuring in your head. Of course their mouth didn't move when they spoke to you. It didn't need to. This was his land.
The grasses flailed in seawater for a brief moment, your hands licked clean by the wetness, before it disappeared as soon as you glanced down to see it.
"You come. Come back to us. I've been waiting. He's been waiting since dawn."
The voice of seventeen children of the Moon, flowing together in a broken harmony. The sky glitched, froze into a sickening green, then returned to its clouded blues, cast over by the new night.
The water shifted, then lapped somewhere behind you. Your head swam and ached by turning to see it, but when you did, you could almost feel yourself smiling.
The fairy fountain pooled around the stone pillars and high standing circle, the water alight and glowing with pure turquoise. Rosy pink lights danced and bobbed over the surface, tiny white wings hovering and fluttering in their wake. The Ocarina.
BEN.
They said nothing else. Their smile never faltered, the pupils of his eyes expanded to cover their depths. An intensity of so many stares, all in one, watching you, reading you. Craving you.
And you were already theirs. Already his.
Everything's a horrifying, dizzying rush after the sweet calmness of the moment. Bronze hands grabbed onto yours, a tight, firm hold, and your senses reacted violently, jaw dropping and eyes widening at the almost sickening feeling of touch from a place like this. A place, a dream, that has been broken and shattered, reaching for reality but not quite there. Hands crossing beyond the boundary of what's imagined, what is and what is not, honing onto physics after mastering and manipulating the mind.
Fingers dug into your skin, round, unhinged eyes boring into yours. Their face is right in your stunned stupor, breaths nonexistent. To look at them too long is enough to kickstart a sort of madness. He won't ever stop smiling.
When damp, lightning lips pressed against your own, the fountain swam in itself, painting itself that same stark neon green, glitching in digital squares of black and white and red, flashing up into the clouds before sparking out. They taste of apples and chlorine and a subtle sweetness, and it floods your senses with their tongue, green locks tickling the skin of your flushed cheeks. What can be felt has been made numb, returning with full force every few seconds, enough to get drunk off of. A heat that's freezing cold and bright with electric charge, and something else, something new and ancient, a secret, under the Moon.
Blood drips, then ʂpiʅʅʂ like the fountain, down your back, running over the grassy grounds beneath you like honey, painting the greens red. Then blue. Then red again. It doesn't hurt.
BEN's smile grows when they let out a gleeful chortle, not at all deterred. A mocha hand dips down to slide through the redness, soaking it up, eyes deepening into midnight voids. Their lips are slightly swollen, and they grin contentedly. They want to do it again.
They know you do too.
Wings have grown from the watering of blood. They are dainty and delicate, glossed with angel white, slightly see-through and glittered with Divine Magic. From over the hill, the Mask Salesman watches on, at the sweet sight of BEN and his Mo❍n. The Children are laughing, they are playing and singing in discorded celestia, spinning around maypoles and bunting in navy and silver and white and gold.
In the still darkness of the night, your bedroom hums and glows with the light of your computer, at the corner of your desk. It glows that same green, flickers with your pulse.
Arms hold you tightly. They coil like snakes, and strangle like one too, squeezing tightly, grin sharpening in turn. You do not fight it. You will not fight the bite of a Moon Child's love.
Their lips drag against your skin, wetting the skin of your cheek and the corner of your mouth slightly with the movement, forehead pressing against yours. BEN's gaze locks onto your big Bambi blinks, transfixed. When you relax in their hold, they hold you closer, your skin aching against the feeling of the blazing chill. Your blood is electric and raw in your veins, pupils dilated.
You are safe here.
They're glad you did that.
───────────────────── ⋆⋅fin⋅⋆ ─────────────────────
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akell1e · 23 hours ago
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She's down to chase you.
Drew her for the first time everr.
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socksoffz · 3 days ago
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During the short time Toby was at school, he was your classmate.. You wonder about him sometimes.
a.n: This was just a little concept I thought of, now that I’m on adhd meds I kinda have plans for this one.
Word count: 1k
content: mild bullying nothing crazy, some wholesome stuff and maybe a little creepy stuff.
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While you were busy counting and coloring, Toby was right beside you. By coincidence of course, your last names had the same letter in the front so it was a given you’d be sat together.
When sitting next to someone you tend to notice things, little things. like the way Toby lightly tapped anything he was holding against the table. You also noticed the way his shoulder would jolt slightly, how his head would tilt to the side in some jerked motion. Your classmates started to notice too, it first started with the typical sneer and rude comment.
But once the entire class caught on, it was a game, the new entertainment was Toby. Toby and his twitches, Toby and his tics. Ticci Toby, it was incessant, over and over again. All While you sat beside him, unsure how you and you alone could make a difference. Sure, you’ve sat through the standard required bullying powerpoints and presentations. But when it was happening right in front of you, that’s when things changed.
It was particularly humid that day, The dark clouds were heavy with the impending rain that foretold your gloomy afternoon. For now your classroom was busy with glue, kid safe scissors and poster paper. It was mildly quiet that day, everyone murmured among themselves while they worked on their projects. You couldn’t remember when it started, what had made you turn to look at him. Obviously, the other kids were looking minutes before you.
“Ticci Tobys doing it again!”
“What is wrong with him?”
“It’s..scary..”
“Maybe if we pinch him or something he’ll stop.”
“Ticci Toby! Ticci Toby! Hey Ticci Toby!”
The chanting had gone far beyond the acceptable classroom level, before the teacher could even step in you’d already had enough.
“Stop it! Leave him alone!”
You shouted, trying to make your voice heard among the noise. You held your breath as a sudden deafening silence was all you got in return. What you thought would lead you to a wave of understanding and praise instead led to giggles and snickers at your expense. You put your head down on your desk, covering up your face with your arms as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You didn’t even bother to see if Toby was looking, you didn’t want him to remember such a failure of a hero.
To make things worse you’d forgotten to bring your lunch, sadly left on your kitchen counter during the hustle and bustle of getting to school. while everyone in your vicinity munched on their fruit snacks and tater tots, you were left with an ache, a stomach ache. Atleast, that's what you told yourself, you had to leave, knowing it wasn't just hunger you felt that was brewing inside of you.
This was the worst day ever.
You made your way to the bathroom, your legs moving swiftly. just so you could hide your involuntary, knee jerk reaction. You couldn’t avoid the tears welling up in your eyes no matter how hard you tried.
After several minutes you managed to pull yourself together, finally starting to make your way back to your seat. Or what you thought was your seat, you paused as you looked at your previously empty spot. It wasn’t just an apple or a candy bar, a full tray of food and more was sitting right in front of you. You looked around, for anyone, an explanation, something.
Your eyes caught a brown mop of hair at the table across from you, he was making a great effort to look at you. Turned all the way around in his seat, only to turn right back around once he realized he’d been caught. You stood there, stunned for a moment until he turns around again. He points to the tray of food than up to you, even adding a cheeky thumbs up for good measure. You couldn’t help the chuckles that escaped your lips as he quickly turned back around, Leaving you to enjoy your mountain of food.
Your classmates, as if they all had eyes and ears on the back of their head, noticed. Their noses could sense what was wrong, a sixth sense whispering to them what was incorrect. Since you started interacting with Toby, their little brains conjured up that there must be something terribly wrong with you too. And they had no problems reminding you, over and over again.
Recess was a pain now that you had been associated with ‘Ticci Toby’. You never seemed to figure out how to fit yourself into the little groups the kids would make in the first place. You were drawn to the swings of no expectations, and the ‘edges of the playground’ solitude.
Some days, like that special day, you felt yourself drawn to the fence of the playground. You wondered aimlessly, eyeing the untamed wilderness just a chain link away. You were utterly consumed, lost in thought. Until You felt something poke you, something persistent yet barely there. You turn around, your face contorting in confusion as Tobias stood in front of you, holding something in his cupped hands.
You hesitated for a moment before mimicking him, cupping your hands for whatever he plans to give you. You stood stock still as he approached with the mystery in his hands. Slowly, something damp, firm and slimy lands on your palm. It’s webbed feet was the first thing you felt, your eyes widened as you made eye contact with the amphibian sitting in your hand.
“A frog!”
It takes everything in you not to jolt in surprise at such a small thing suddenly in your grasp. Yet for those couple of minutes, the responsibility was yours. You kept your hand steady as your eyes glanced up to meet Toby’s in a momentary sense of camaraderie.
That was the last time you’d seen Toby Rogers.
Now you were sitting in front of your tv with your family, the news of the Roger’s blaring on the screen in front of you. All dead, one missing. Toby was missing, probably dead, people say, a kid like him wouldn’t be able to survive out there.
So why was it that when you retired to your bed at night, you could feel it. That sixth sense that seemed to come so easily to others now overwhelmed you as you tried to fall asleep. Something was wrong. As if an invisible string was pulling you, you found yourself standing up from the bed. Taking slow, cautious steps as you approached the window. It was almost a relief seeing your gnawing feeling confirmed. Except for the fact that the gnawing feeling was a tall shadow standing only a few feet away.
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sharp-silver4795 · 2 days ago
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Toby and Clockwork read cringy old fan fiction about themselves together and it is their sense of bonding.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk
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intimidating-fettuccine · 2 days ago
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Helen: Kill him.
Y/N: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.
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chocolatebunn · 2 days ago
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noctiva · 7 hours ago
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A Change Of Heart
Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]
(Toby birthday extravaganza!)
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WC: 6.5k
Summary: Your boyfriend Toby doesn’t celebrate his birthday. Each year, you try to change that. This year, you think you’ve succeeded.
CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, sappy gooey mushy shit, they are in LOVE your honour, praise + sweet talk, sloppy makeouts, dry humping, vaginal fingering, semi-clothed sex, creampie, barely any warnings except a sickening amount of sweetness, bc it’s his birthday he deserves to be happy <3
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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!
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Your boyfriend Toby doesn’t celebrate his birthday.
You supposed that you couldn’t exactly blame him. A birthday to him was just another trip around the sun. Another reminder of the fact that he spent yet another year burying bodies in the ground.
You understood it. Tried to, at least. His distaste towards celebration and grandeur. The scowl that would tug at his lips whenever someone wished him a ‘happy birthday’. You had tried to remedy it early in your relationship, with thoughtful gifts and treats you had stayed up all night baking, but you could see it in his eyes every time he whispered a soft ‘thank you’. It was resignation, not true gratitude. Smiling to make you happy, because he wouldn’t want all of your efforts to go to waste.
But deep down you knew what he was wishing. That you’d just forget about it for a year. Let him forget about it for a year. Aging. Living. The cruelty of it all.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate your efforts - he did. You were the first person to truly try to celebrate with him since his mother. But maybe, that was the true issue. It was difficult to share a slice of cake with you without thinking of the times when he was young, sat around his dining table whilst his family waited for him to blow out his candles. It was the one day his father bit back his harsh words. It was the one day his mother’s smile didn’t look so strained.
To try and relive that now, cutting the cake you baked him with his bloodstained hands - it just felt like some cheap imitation. Like he was trying to hide in the past, turn a blind eye to who he had turned out to be.
People like him, didn’t deserve to celebrate.
And so, you had given up for a while. Went from going out into town to buy him something new, to rehashing an old gift from a few years prior. Homemade cakes, to store bought. Candles, for a kiss on the cheek instead. You started wondering if maybe you were selfish. If maybe, you were doing all of this for yourself, not him - to prove that you were in fact the loving partner you tried to be.
If you were, maybe you’d just stop and abide to his wishes.
So eventually you do. Sort of.
You wake on the morning of Toby’s birthday before he does, letting out a soft yawn that you quickly stifle in an effort not to wake him. He lies beside you - passed out cold, snoring with drool seeping out of the corner of his mouth, the mess of brunette hair atop his head tangled and knotted from tossing and turning. His eyes are fluttered closed, face smushed into his pillow and the blanket haphazardly thrown over him, barely covering his bare chest - which was pebbled with goosebumps.
You pull the blankets over his shoulders before you slip out of bed.
Quiet as you can, tiptoeing when your feet hit the hardwood floor. Avoiding every plank that you knew made a creak. Toby slept heavy, but his instincts weren’t something to be fucked with. If his sleeping body got even an ounce of the idea that you were no longer beside him - he would be waking up. He had many, many times before, when you were just crawling out of bed to grab a glass of water. So this time around you make sure to be extra sneaky, triple checking that he’s actually still sleeping before you open the bedroom door just a crack and slip through it.
To the kitchen you go, socked feet padding against the floor of your shared cabin - goosebumps raising on your arms as the morning chills drifts in through your faulty insulation. In just a tshirt and panties, you shiver, but consider it to be a less important issue at the moment. You had better things to focus on.
Like making Toby breakfast.
You start with the coffee maker. Two scoops of the blend he liked best, though you personally thought it tasted like cardboard. Barely a step above instant. But the look of satisfaction he got when he took a sip was what you were aiming for, and so you go through with it despite your distaste.
Then, to the stove. Toby was easy when it came to breakfast. Something sweet, with something savoury to balance it out. Most days, you’d find him shoving a barely toasted slice of bread in his mouth before marching out the door for a mission, but on days when he had the time - that’s what he’d make. Cooking for you with a smile of his face, goggles pushed up onto his forehead to keep stray hair out of his vision. Letting you help only so that he had an excuse to pull you in close and leave flour handprints on your hips and ass.
Such a mundane scene, and yet it was the sort of domestic bliss that Toby had made the norm for you - even if his way of life was anything less than normal.
You’d like to return the favour for him.
Two eggs get cracked into a bowl, then three cups of flour. A little bit of sugar, milk, and a pinch of salt later - you have a pretty solid batter. Which, you immediately start scooping up into the waffle maker you had preheating. The mixture sizzles when it meets the hot surface, the sweet smell of home cooked breakfast almost immediately wafting into the air and meeting your nostrils.
You smile, then close the lid.
Next, you go the the fridge and take out a pack of bacon. You peel out a few strips from the pack, place them into the pan you had waiting for them, and turn the burner on to medium heat. It doesn’t take long for those to start sizzling as well.
It also doesn’t take long for Toby to wake up. As stealthy as you could possibly be, and yet you should’ve known that you still wouldn’t have been able to slip past him. It was like he had an internal alarm system built in, one that started blaring the moment you weren’t snug next to him.
“S-Somethin’ smells good. You cooking?” Toby’s voice - low, raspy, and thick with sleep - meets your ears and cuts through the sound of food cooking. So unexpected that you quite literally jump, letting out a soft yelp and fumbling to catch the spatula that had nearly slipped out of your hands in shock.
“Toby!” You whip your head around, eyes wide, gaze locking on the sight of him freshly rolled out of bed. His hair is a mess, knotted and sticking up at odd angles, and his eyes are still drooping. He lets out a soft yawn and reaches a hand up to cover his mouth, his torso still bare - plaid pyjama pants hanging low on his hips. “You- Go back to bed!” You point an accusatory spatula at him, to which he raises an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re not supposed to be up.”
“Well, I am.” Toby snorts, crossing his arms over his chest before leaning up against the doorframe. “You th-thought you were being sneaky?” He eyes your soft pout, and his gaze softens. “The smell of cooked bacon could wake up the- the dead y’know.”
He raises an eyebrow at you, trying his best not to burst into a fit of laughter over just how distraught you look over his presence, before shaking his head in amused disbelief. “Why’s it m-matter anyway? You weren’t trying the whole b-breakfast in bed thing, were you?”
“I wanted to surprise you.” You huff, shoulders sagging in defeat. “But you ruined it.”
“No, no-“ Toby lets out a soft laugh before pushing off the wall, lazily making his way into the kitchen to meet you. “Colour me s-surprised. It’s not often you-you’re up before I am.” He leans his head down to place a soft kiss against your cheek, before reaching up to give your hair a little ruffle. “Though, I-I will say that I thought you had gotten over all of this…” His hand gives your hip a lingering squeeze, before he’s withdrawing - making his way over to the counter where the coffee was brewing.
”Over what?” You ask, tearing your eyes away for hm for a moment just to check on how the bacon was holding up.
”This.” Toby laughs softly. “Birthday stuff. Thought you finally came o-over to my side on the topic.”
”You think this is for your birthday?” You scoff dramatically and cross your arms over your chest. You avoid Toby’s gaze, because you just know how he’s looking at you. Disbelieving, for good reason, because he had seen right through you. “Maybe I just wanted to cook for you. Has nothing to do with you getting old.”
”Getting old.” Toby snorts, unable to help himself from rolling his eyes as he leans his hip up against the countertop. His gaze flickers over to the coffee maker, to the jar of grinds next to it - and he raises an eyebrow as he lets out a soft hum. “You ha-hate this stuff.” He mutters, giving the tin of coffee grinds a little nudge.
You do. Unequivocally. But you didn’t have yourself in mind when you brewed them.
”Yeah, I do.” You agree, shooting him a look before you turn the burner off, sliding the pan of bacon over to a burner that was cool. “But you don’t.”
It’s such a simple gesture, something so easily looked over. And yet to Toby? It means the world. A small sacrifice, but it was one you were making for him. Out of the good of your heart, simply because you loved him. Because you wanted him to be happy.
Maybe, over the past few years, he had been too wrapped up in his own melancholy to truly realize that.
”You know..” Toby casts one last look over to the jar of coffee grinds, before pushing himself off of the counter once more. Gravitating to you once again - his hands drawn to your hips like two magnets to one another. And when he touches you, he finally feels whole again. Two pieces snapping into place. “You d-don’t have to try so hard.” His hands give your waist a gentle squeeze, his chest tightening at the feeling of you relaxing into his hold so easily. It may have been awhile, but that fact never got old. “Waking up with you n-next to me is all I could really ask for.” His head tucks into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss against the slope of your shoulder. “All I could ever ne-need.”
“I just..” With his hands on your waist, you let it a soft sigh before leaning back against his chest. Ignoring it even as the waffle maker’s timer goes off - three consecutive beeps trying to catch your attention but failing miserably. How could you not be distracted? Even a siren blaring would fall on deaf ears to you right now, with Toby’s body warmth seeping into your skin. His heartbeat thrumming against your back, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. So tangible. Each exhale a reminder that he’s here with you. That though another year has passed, he’s still here. “I want you to feel special, Toby. I want you to know how much you mean to me”
”I do know.” Toby’s response is immediate, whispered against your skin like a prayer. “You know what I th-think?” His hands gently spin you around in his hold, and his gaze nearly buckles you completely. So soft. So warm it makes your heart skip a beat. Toby’s staring down at you as if you’ve given him the entire world, though you haven’t even finished breakfast for him yet. “I think you’re the strongest woman in the wo-world.” He dips his head downwards, pressing his forehead against yours. “How many ye-years has it been now? I know it hasn’t b-been easy. Not with what I d-do.”
You breathe out a shaky sigh, closing your eyes for just a moment before they’re fluttering open again to meet his.
”I don’t think about that stuff, Toby.” You breathe out, before reaching a hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here. I don’t care what you do.”
”A-And that’s why you’re so special.” Toby hums, his lips curling up at the corners. Then he’s closing the distance, just to press the softest of kisses to the tip of your nose. “You’re really good at… A-At seeing good.” Slowly he backs you up. Gently. One step at a time. Walking with you, with the tips of his toes just barely brushing yours, until the small of your back is pressed against the kitchen counter. “The whole re-reason I don’t like celebr-brating is because I don’t think…” He pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering with emotion. “I don’t think I deserve it. I don’t think-think I’m a good enough person to warrant celebrating.”
He watches as your lips tug downwards, and lets out a soft huff through his nose - before reaching up to gently pinch your chin between his fingers. “Don’t get that look on your f-face.”
”I don’t like it when you talk bad about yourself.” You mutter softly. You nudge his hand with your cheek until he’s cupping your face, the warmth of his calloused palm making your heart flutter. Just like it always did. Just like it always would.
”Well, good th-thing I’m not done talking then.” Toby hums back to you. “I was going to say, that you make it e-easy to believe that I am.” You watch how his eyes warm, deep dark irises thawing like a frozen lake in spring. “That I’m good. That I deserve it.”
”You are, and you do.” You don’t even hesitate. You say those words back to him like they’re the only facts that you’ve ever known. And maybe they are. You’ve known them since you first met him, and have believed them ever since. Even when he came home drenched in blood. Even when his hands would be shaking so bad that even you holding them wouldn’t ease it all away. He was good. Troubled, sure, but deep down you were absolutely sure of it.
He was a good person. You don’t think you’d still be around if he wasn’t.
”I love you.” Toby’s breath tickles your noise when he speaks out that soft confession. All soft and sweet, almost shy - like he hadn’t said those words to you a million times over. Today though, it’s different and you know it. You can feel it in the air, how an invisible weight lifted off of his shoulders when he whispered them to you. A sigh of relief. Gratitude, because he knows that you meant every word that you had said. That you believed them.
Maybe that was why it was so easy for him to start believing them too.
”I love you too.” You murmur back to him, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze up at him. Encased in your own little personal bubble right now, one where the horrors of the world outside simply didn’t exist. “Happy birthday.” You offer him a soft smile, and for once - Toby returns it. He doesn’t grumble out something out of annoyance, or ignore you completely in attempts to brush off the meaning of the day.
Today he accepts it.
”Thank you.” And then he’s leaning down, messy strands of brunette hair tickling your forehead. His nose brushes against yours before he slots your lips together. Gentle. Sweet. So much packed within his actions that he could never find the words for. That was alright though, you could understand him perfectly.
Your hands drift upwards. Giving his hands a soft squeeze before trailing up his arms. Savouring every inch of skin beneath your fingertips as you climb higher. Over his shoulders, mapping his scars like braille as your fingers dance up his neck. Cupping the back of his head, curling into his hair, catching on a few knots but not caring in the slightest. You pull him down gently, guiding him to you with tender touches that leave his knees weak.
If your daily actions didn’t show how much you loved him, then your kisses definitely did. It never changed how much devotion you poured into one simple action. Kissing him like the key to eternal life was found on his lips. Hands in his hair, weaving the strands around your fingers like it was the finest silk. Like letting go of him would wound you.
He sure felt like it would wound him.
He kisses you soft and slow, even as his hands press your hips back against the countertop, and his knee finds a home sliding between your thighs. He’s careful with it, like he’s scared he could break you. A fear he had simply never gotten over. He didn’t think he ever could. You were the one good thing. The one raw of sun peeking through the perpetual cloudy day that was his life. You were everything.
And somehow, you were his.
His lips part against yours and you concede easily, following his lead as you do the same. Letting him lick into your mouth with a soft moan rumbling from his chest, his hands twitching and trembling where they squeeze your waist. Thumbs smoothing soft circles against your hipbones, his body drifting in closer to yours - like one magnet to another. Leaning in until his chest was meeting yours, his body curled over yours like he was trying to shield you from the world.
Lips sloppily sliding against one another, Toby swallows down your breathy moans like they were ambrosia. You can hear it - feel it - when his breathing starts to grow shaky. Soft, trembling huffs of breath through his nose that tickle your skin upon contact. But you’re not much better. Toby had a certain way of stealing your breath away every time his skin met yours, every time his lips tasted yours.
Toby kissed you like he needed your air to breathe. Like he was drowning, and the only air available had to be stolen from your lips.
You didn’t mind it at all. You’d give him it all, right down to the last drop of oxygen in your lungs.
He knew that already.
His lips break from yours just to trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your cheek and across your jawline. Sloppy, messy, breathing shaky between each smeared kiss. But he’s not rushing it. He’s savouring it. Like he was trying to lap up every drop of sweat on your skin, to commit the taste to memory. “I love you.” He presses those words into the crook of your neck as his hands begin to wonder, shaky as they slip down low and under them hem of the shirt you had worn to bed. “God, I love you.” Again, as his palms smooth up your bare stomach - his calloused hands rough against skin so soft - and yet it feels like the perfect contrast. Feels like they were moulded for the simple purpose of just touching you.
It was hard to believe that hands like this, hands that stitched you back together at the seams, dealt damage beyond all repair when he wasn’t with you. If only that mattered to you at all.
”I love you too.” You murmur Mack to him, eyes flutter when his hands drift higher - up, up, bringing the fabric of your shirt with it - leaving goosebumps to pebble your skin when its exposed to the air of your kitchen for the first time. “I love you more.“ You gasp when his hands find their destination, cupping your tits gently - pleased at the fact that he had caught you so early in the morning. Braless and beautiful, the flesh beneath his palms so soft when he kneads it softly. A soft rumble of appreciation vibrates against your shoulder, right as your breath catches in your throat.
”Not true.” His thumbs roll over your nipples, and you can feel his lips curl up into a smile against your skin when they perk up beneath his touch. “B-But let’s not fight, baby.” He gives the crook of your neck a soft nip, just to make you jolt. “It’s my b-birthday.”
You can’t help but let out a huff of laughter, your body just going more and more pliant with each touch dealt upon your all too reactive body. But that was all his fault. He knew just what buttons to press, to have your knees going weak.
But of course, the same was true for you.
You lean up onto your tiptoes to nudge your way into the crook of his neck, lips meeting his skin, and you can feel it when his muscles all but lock up. You don’t stop there, letting out a gentle giggle right next to his ear before you’re catching the lobe between your teeth - giving it a soft nip that pulls a strained groan from Toby’s lungs. “Cheeky.” You hear him mutter, his voice dropping down lower than before. You knew what that meant, but you had also known where this was going from the very start.
His hands slide out from underneath your shirt and slip under your thighs, arms flexing when he lifts you up so easily it makes you let out a little yelp of surprise. Followed up quickly, by a giggle of glee when he’s leaning his head back down again to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. “Breakfast is g-gonna go cold.” He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours as he gently sets you down onto the countertop. Bare legs dangling around his hips, you smile up at him with stars in your eyes. Reaching out to pull him in once more - not satisfied until he was invading your personal space again. Skin to skin, feeling his heart beat against yours, “That’s a sh-shame. You got up early and e-everything.”
”Oh, that’s alright.” Your lift your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back in an action that had one of his eyebrows quirking playfully. “You woke up before I got much done anyway.” A kiss to the tip of his nose. “I can pick up where i left off later.”
”In favour of d-doing what?” Toby’s lips twitch up into a coy smirk, his hands tugging your hips forwards until they’re completely flush to his. Letting you feel the growing bulge he had been sporting, barely concealed by the thin material of his pyjama pants. Your hips almost immediately buck at the contact. “You-You know, you coulda’ just woke me up like th-this.” His lips meet yours again in the form of a soft peck, his hands guiding your eager hips to rock and his gently. Nothing too insistent, just really letting you feel it all. Getting your breathing shaky and shallow. Getting your thighs trembling where they have him locked in place, “I wouldn’t have ha-had any complaints.”
”Oh, I bet you wouldn’t.” You giggle, but the words do cut of abruptly when he’s pressing in closer, grinning his clothed length against your barely concealed core. He’s pulled a moan from the both of you, his hands tightening their hold on your hips while yours to the same to his shoulders - nails biting into his skin. “You… You’re not subtle-“ You huff out, your eyes flickering up to this as a soft flush starts creeping onto your cheeks. Making the heat rising within you all too evident to the man who was stoking it.
”I’m n-not trying to be.” Toby laughs against your lips, before giving you another soft kiss - tugging you down against him against just to feel the shudder that racks your body. “Why would I b-be subtle around you? How can I be?” The slow rhythm from before had turned into something more insistent, fuelled by desire. Dragging your clothed cunt against him with every buck of his hips. Shaky breathing turning into laboured panting. Eyes hazy. Skin pink and hot to the touch. “You’re the p-prettiest girl in the world. It’s difficult to try and be a-all cool and aloof around you.”
”Well, good. I like it that way.” Your hands creep upwards to grasp at his hair once again before you’re pulling him down to meet your lips with more pressure. Much messier this time around. Two flaming hot balls of desire that were feeding off of one another, drinking up each other’s soft noises and whispered words of devotion.
Hands getting greedier, ruffling clothes. He’s palming your breasts through your shirt while the other one tugs at the waistband of your panties. You’re clawing at his scalp with blunt fingernails, while your other hand grabs at the waistband of his pants - fingers curling beneath it. Growing more and more impatient, more and more frantic - like the clothes you wore were insulting. And, maybe the were, in the way they were a barrier between him and you. “Toby-“ You unfurl your legs from around his hips just to make it easier for him when he starts dragging the material of your panties down your thighs. Lifting your hips a little, shaking your ankle to free yourself when they get caught there.
It’s clumsy, and uncoordinated, but that’s not all it is. It’s warm and smooth. It’s giggles between kisses when his nose bumps against yours, its eyes crinkled up in adoration when he tells you he loves you for the nth time. It’s real, and its raw. It’s Toby’s hands when they smooth up your thighs - his breath hitching in awe when his fingers meet your core. Looking at you with near amazement in his eyes when he feels how wet you are for him already. Like its a blessing, a gift. Like he still can’t believe you’re a tangible being - all his to touch upon.
”Have I-I ever told you how pretty you are?” Toby’s asking as he swipes his fingers through the slickness, the digits trembling as they find your clit - smearing your essence against your folds. His pupils blown out and his eyes foggy as he watches your eyebrows furrow together, watches how your lips part in pleasure when he adds just the right amount of pressure. Rolling the swollen nub just the way you like it. Slow and steady, nothing too frantic, building and building that heat at a controlled pace.
“You-“ You let out a hiss through your teeth when your pleasure spikes, a result of him pressing his thumb down with just a little bit more intent. He can feel how your cunt pulses beneath his touch, getting wetter and wetter with every movement he makes. Incredible. “You have.” You peel your eyes open to meet his gaze, an amused smile on your lips even as your chest heaves. “Probably- Probably about ten minutes ago.”
”Ah, too long.” Toby watches with a tender smile, the way your face completely melts when he slips a finger inside you. Curling it into your wet heat while his thumb gives your clit all the love in the world. Enamoured with the way your breathing gets more strained, how your thighs tremble as your hips buck up to meet his touch. That pretty blush of yours creeping down your neck as your eyes go hazier and hazier. Twitching around him - hot, velvety, and pulsating - it sends a shiver down his spine, and a wave of heat straight to his dick. “You’re pretty.” He murmurs to you softly, bringing his other hand up to cup the back of your head - keeping your pliant body upright as you begin to crumble. “You’re so pretty, it m-makes my chest hurt.” Your eyebrows pinch together, bottom lip wobbling. “Makes m-my head go foggy. Makes me wo-wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”
He dips his head down to nuzzle against your neck, stubble scratching against your soft skin. “What I ever d-did to deserve a girl who could make me like my b-birthday again.” He crooks his finger just right, rubbing up against that sweet bundle of nerves within you and pushing you over the edge so sweetly. So gentle, and yet it still leaves your head spinning. Still has you gasping and moaning out his name as you claw at his shoulders and tug him in closer - your pussy pulsing around his finger and twitching beneath the pad of his thumb.
Moaning out his name into the cool air of your shared kitchen, it sounds like gospel to him. Sounds like the song of an angel - so sweet, it stuck to his ears like molasses. He doesn’t think he ever knew how lovely his name could sound, until he was hearing it from your lips. “You alright?” He asks you softly, eyes on you as he slipped his finger out of you - still rubbing gentle circles against your clit even when the overstimulation had your hips twitching involuntarily. Your vision is foggy, and Toby looks like a dream as he stands before you - his chest heaving with every breath he takes. Just barely masking the heated emotions swimming around in his irises. So, you nod. Because you know you want more of him. You always do. “Can I give you m-more?”
”Please.” You pull him down for another kiss before he can even ask if you’re sure. Spreading your thighs apart wider and inviting him in. Your tongue licking against his when you feel one hand leave you in favour of pulling down the waistband of your pants. His cock is hard and throbbing when it comes to rest against your cunt, so desperate that just freeing it to the cool air has him gasping into your mouth. Grinding it against the slickness of your core had him biting back groans against your lips.
”Love you s-so fuckin’ much.” He’s muttering out again, like he’d die if he didn’t tell at least once every five minutes. His lips sliding against yours messily, the words are muffled - but they sound just as lovely, because they’re formed out of his voice. “More than anything.” And then he’s pressing against you, all nice and slick from the wetness that had seeped out of your core - nudging against your entrance which welcomed him to beautiful. Kissing the head of his cock with a warmth that already had him moaning into your mouth.
”Love you too.” Your fingers claw at his neck when his hips nudge forwards, still so sensitive from your last release that the stretch his cock gives you feels godly. Filling you up in a way that he could, like his body had been carved to fulfil yours. Like he had been made for you, just as you for him. That’s what it sure felt like as his arms came up to wrap around you - cradling your body close to his as he sunk himself in deeper and deeper. One inch at a time, each one more mind numbing than the last.
He was heaven. Your heaven. He made you feel whole, wiped every single thought from your mind that wasn’t about him. He brought a shiver to your bones that no one else could replicate. Had electricity zapping up your spine when his hips came flush with yours.
Again, your legs wrap around his waist and lock there as you melt into him - pressing your face into his neck to gasp against his skin. You can feel your wetness seeping out around his cock, and so can he - soft curses slipping from his lips as his hands begin to tremble. He draws his hips back slowly, like he’s savouring every second of having your tight heat wrapped around him. He was. You were so warm and wet, and he’d swear to you that you just got better every single time. Winding him every time he got the blessing of burying himself in your sweet, sweet body. Looking so beautiful every time you fall apart for him.
”S-So good-“ He gasps out, his grip almost suffocating when he presses back in - his eyes fluttering as he starts gently rocking into your pliant body. Burying his face into your hair and pressing kisses to the crown of your head, a strangled groan rumbling from his lungs every time his hips met yours. “Fuck- You’re i-incredible.” He breathes out those words in a strangled breath, awe dripping off of every letter. Like even after all this time, he still can’t believe that you’re here. That you’re here, and you’re his. Right beneath his fingertips. “My girl.” His hands slip down low as his cock drags against your walls, his pace slow and controlled - letting you really feel it every time your body stretched open to take him in. Letting you feel all those butterflies that fluttered around in your gut when he nudged up against your gspot. “You’re so g-good to me.”
Large palms splay against your ass cheeks, nails digging into the soft flesh as he guides you hips back to meet every thrust. His eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, his lips parted just to gasp out your praises. “You-You’re perfect. So perfect. Don’t even gotta try.”
And you’d like to tell him the same. That to you, he’s the entire world and then some, but it’s a little hard to get the words out when each thrust in has you choking on your own breaths. When each nudge of his hips has your brain turning to static.
So you tell him in the only way you can.
“I love you.” You cry out, your voice shaky and broken, before you’re lifting your head out of the crook of his neck and nudging your face close to his. Peppering his face with sloppy kisses though your main objective are his lips. You’re having a hard time not completely falling to pieces though, and so it’s no surprise that you miss the mark.
Not that Toby minds at all. You’ve got his heart fluttering as you press spit-slick kisses against his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his jaw. Coating him in kisses that leave his skin tingling as a shudder wracks his shoulders. Getting to watch nice up close and personal as your face crumples in pleasure and your finger shakily grab at any part of him you can reach.
His hair, slipping down his neck to claw at his shoulders, grasping at his biceps with trembling fingers. Like his skin grounded you. Like he was all you needed to feel whole.
He was. “Love you-“ You gasp out again, your thighs squeezing around him tighter as that pleasure starts to crest once more. Your skin buzzing from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, your lips wobbling when they finally meet his once more. Your words broken when you gasp against his mouth. “Fuck- I love you.” He savours each letter that spills against his tongue, somehow managing to pull you in even closer as his hips begin to stutter. Trying to fight it off, but it’s difficult to when you’re melting before him - slipping through his fingers like ice cream on a hot day.
Crumbling apart so beautifully, gazing up at him with that glassy eyed look of devotion - like he had hung the stars in the sky. Like he was the reason the sun rose every morning.
You buckled him. Turned his joints to goo and his brain to mush. Made his heart so warm he’d swear it was close to bursting out of his chest.
You made him feel so loved, in every single thing that you did. Every single word you said.
From picking his favourite coffee grinds over yours, to moaning your devotion against his sweat slick skin.
He had meant it when he said he wasn’t quite sure what he did to deserve you, but maybe he was starting to realize that he didn’t need to do anything at all. You just loved him - and love isn’t something to be deserved, it’s something to be given.
So maybe he should just stop worrying. Maybe, he should just be grateful for the gift of your presence.
Maybe, he should stop wondering if it’s all enough. If you truly understand how much he means it when he tells you he loves you.
He’s sure you do. And he’s sure that what you feel for him is just as potent.
Tears dot your lash line when you fall apart in his arms again, your lips parting against his as you moan out the sweetest song - your fingernails scratching red and raised notes of devotion against his neck and shoulders. Marking him as yours for the millionth time over, a physical reminder for when his mind turns on him again. You loved him, you did, and your eyes sparkle with nothing but that as you gaze up into his eyes - pulling him down with you with just one look.
“I love you.” He tells you, as his thrusts go sloppy. “I love you.” He says it again even as the overwhelming pleasure tries to choke out the words. “I love you.” Panted against your neck, his whole body trembling as ecstasy racks his body from head to toe - his iron grip on you being the only thing that keeps him from buckling completely. “I love you.” Again, as you feel warmth bloom inside you, as you feel it drip down your thighs. “I love you.” Like he could never say it enough, even as his body crumples against yours - weak and shaky.
And for a moment, that’s all he does. Fallen against you, his body enveloping yours - the heat from his skin leeching into your bones as his heart beat syncs up with your pulse. Breathing out those words on every exhale, like they’re the only thing he knows how to say.
Right then, they are.
“I love you too, Toby.” You murmur back to him once you catch your breath, and though your arms are weak, you still lift one just so that you can cup his face and smooth your thumb against his cheekbone. “More than anything in the world.” You lean in, and press one more lingering kiss against his lips - to which he melts against you all over again. “Happy birthday.”
And he smiles. Soft, sweet and boyish. Dimples in his cheeks as his eyes crinkle up, a soft little huff of laughter slipping from behind his teeth. You think it might be the youngest he’s looked in years.
“Thank you.” He breathes back to you, leaning into your touch. “Do you…” He looks over to the stove, where the meal you had been preparing had been so quickly abandoned, and he lets out a soft giggle. “D-Do you think it’s gone cold?”
“Duh.” You snort, before gently pinching his cheek. “But that’s alright. The coffee’s still hot, at least.”
Toby’s grin somehow manages to stretch wider, and he chuckles lightly before nodding in agreement.
The coffee was still hot.
—————————————————————————☆
this is the most sickeningly sweet thing I’ve written in awhile but that’s what toby deserves on his big day
happy birthday to the only man to ever exist <3
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