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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!)

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

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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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tryingtofindava · 19 hours ago

Text

── 𝐌𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥

: ̗̀➛ Back to Source

{[PROXIES X FEM! READER]}

Same routine. Same tired breath.

The buzzing of my alarm clock dragged me back into another day I didn’t particularly want to live. The shrill beeping gnawed at my ears until I slammed my hand down on it, silencing it for the moment. For a second, I just laid there, staring blankly at the stained ceiling, feeling the weight of monotony suffocate me.

Wake up.

Eat.

Get ready for work.

Work for six soul draining hours while trying to fend off Jackson, the human embodiment of a mistake.

Go home.

Eat.

Sleep.

Repeat.

It was a cycle so endless, so crushing, I started to wonder if this was hell after all. Maybe I’d done something wrong in a past life, or hell, maybe even this one, and now I was being punished by being forced to exist in this grey loop forever.

But that’s just life isn’t it?

I shuffled to the bathroom, brushed my teeth mechanically, tossed on my uniform, black jeans, the red Pop’s Diner T-shirt, a name tag that screamed ‘Y/N’ to any creep who bothered to look, and dragged myself out the door.

The diner wasn’t far. It sat on the edge of town, where cracked sidewalks met endless woods. Pop’s had been around forever, the sort of place where the coffee was always hot, the floors always sticky, and the same six regulars clung to the cracked booths like flies to a corpse.

Jackson was already there when I arrived, lounging at the counter like he owned the place. His smirk crawled up my skin like spiders, and I fought the urge to spin on my heel and leave.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he purred, voice thick with sleaze. Just the sound of it was like nails on a chalkboard, not even a full minute in and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

I ignored him, brushing past to clock in. Maybe if I pretended hard enough he didn’t exist, he’d actually disappear.

Six hours. Just six miserable hours.

I tied my apron, plastered on my best dead eyed smile, and started my shift.

It was during my third trip delivering a plate of bacon and eggs that the doorbell chimed and the change began.

They strolled in like they owned the place, four of them, bickering loud enough that even the fry cook poked his head out from the kitchen to see what the fuss was.

I couldn’t help myself from sneaking a peak at them, they had only been in for a few seconds and half of the other customers were turning heads at the noise they were making.

The first guy through the door was tall, the tallest in the group and looked like he could either fix your car or knock you flat without breaking a sweat. He had a slight mustache that didn’t quite make him look older, and he wore a black coat over a mustard yellow hoodie. His light brown hair was buzzed short, and when he smiled, and he did, charmingly, like he had no idea how disarming it was. I caught sight of the gap between his two front teeth. His navy blue jeans looked worn in and comfortable, the kind that had seen too many years but still clung to life.

Behind him came a guy who looked like he’d fought a war just to get out of bed this morning. Third tallest, with a grumpy scowl permanently carved into his face. He wore a red flannel shirt, the top two buttons undone, and dark blue jeans to match. His hair was dark brown, nearly black, and messy like he hadn’t bothered with a comb. A scruffy beard shaded his jawline, and he had the kind of heavy lidded, exhausted eyes that screamed of nights lost to bad dreams.

Next to him, practically glued to his side and pestering him nonstop, was another younger boy. Second tallest, though only by a little. He had a wide, awkwardly placed bandage slapped across his cheek, and I couldn’t help but notice how he twitched and stuttered when he spoke, like his body and mouth weren’t always in agreement. His clothes were plain, an old, boring brown hoodie and, of course, blue jeans. Seriously, what was it with these guys and blue jeans? His raggedy gloves looked ready to fall apart at the seams, practically cartoonish in how desperate they were to stay together.

The last of the group was a girl, the only girl, and she looked about two seconds away from dying of boredom. She had a white zip-up hoodie, hands jammed deep in the pockets, and a red shirt peeking out underneath. Black jeans clung to her legs, her black hair a tangled, charming mess like she’d rolled out of bed and dared the world to say something about it. Her dark eyes scanned the room lazily, clearly unbothered by the bickering boys beside her.

I didn’t realize I was staring until the customer who had ordered the bacon and eggs coughed to get my attention, I looked down mumbling an apology and I set the food in front of them.

They became regulars after that, not only just becoming familiar faces in Pop’s, but in town too. Almost every shift I worked, they were there, corner booth, same bickering, same reckless energy. And… subtle flirting. Not from all of them, but enough to notice. Or maybe I’m just delusional in desperate need of attention…

They were here so often that I knew all four of them by name. There was Brian, Tim, Kate, and Toby. A dynamic group that I couldn’t help myself but be drawn towards.

Brian would catch my eye sometimes, offering a small smirk like we were sharing an inside joke. Tobias loved calling me over just to tease, tossing out stupid pick up lines through his stutters that made me roll my eyes so hard they almost got stuck, he did it just for my reactions I bet.

Even Tim, gruff, grumpy Tim, had his moments. He’d grumble out a “Thanks” or a “Looks good” about the plain black coffee or Cherry pie, and it would sound like the most sincere compliment I’d ever heard.

Kate was more reserved, but there was something about the way she would subtly smile at me, a quiet approval that felt… nice. Like I was included in their weird little club.

They were… strange, though. Little things started to stick out.

Brian flinched when a tray clattered to the ground behind him. Tim’s hands would tremble sometimes, so subtly it was easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. Tobias was constantly watching the door like he expected something, or someone to barge in at any moment. Kate seemed the most composed, but she was always quietly scanning the room, muscles taut under her hoodie.

It wasn’t normal behavior. It was… survival instincts, made you wonder if they were ex military soldiers. But weirdly enough, it didn’t scare me. It intrigued me.

Maybe because my life was so boring, so achingly dull, that even the scent of danger felt intoxicating.

Of course, not everything was sunshine and rainbows, Jackson hadn’t taken the hint yet. If anything, he was getting worse.

He’d linger at the counter even longer, his beady eyes tracking me across the floor like a predator. His ‘compliments’ had gotten grosser, slimier. Sometimes he’d even lean over the counter just to breathe down my neck when I passed by.

I made it a point to keep distance between us. Pretended to be busy. Took fake phone calls in the backroom. Anything to avoid him.

He was getting bold, though. Too bold.

Last night, when I was cleaning up after close, I caught him waiting outside by the dumpsters, cigarette glowing between his fingers, grinning that horrible grin. I pretended not to see him. Darted around the other side of the building and practically ran to my car.

My hands had been shaking when I finally locked the doors and drove off. ‘If I just ignore him, he’ll eventually lose interest and leave me alone.’ I kept telling myself, though it was all just a silly wish that he’d finally disappear.

Today, though, my focus was elsewhere.

The diner was buzzing with the afterschool crowd, teens jammed into booths laughing over milkshakes and greasy fries. Pop’s was never really clean, but it was alive tonight, and that helped. I needed the distraction.

The four were already in their booth when I came on shift, arguing as usual.

“Y-Y/N!” Tobias called, waving dramatically like I couldn’t see him from across the room. “Cuh-come save m-m-me from -chirp!- these idiots.”

I snorted and sauntered over, pad and pen in hand. “I can’t save you. You’re too far gone.”

Brian chuckled under his breath. Tim just shook his head like he was embarrassed to be associated with any of them, especially Toby.

Kate nudged Toby, a silent warning of ‘cut it out.’ “We’ll have the usual,” she said, cutting off Tobias’s protests.

“Coming right up,” I said, scribbling it down.

As I turned away, I heard Brian mutter something about “Cute when she smiles,” and Tim elbowed him in the ribs. I pretended not to hear, but my cheeks burned.

The shift passed in a weird, almost pleasant blur. At one point, Kate spoke up when I refilled their coffees. “You should be careful with him,” she said, nodding subtly toward Jackson, who was perched at the counter leering at me. “Guys like that don’t know how to take no.”

I stiffened. “Yeah. I know.”

Her expression softened slightly. “You ever need anything… let us know.” I blinked, caught off guard by the quiet fierceness in her voice.

“Thanks,” I said, and meant it.

The night wound down. The teens left. The kitchen lights dimmed. I wiped the last table, exhausted but lighter somehow.

As I hung up my apron, I caught a glimpse out the window.

The four were standing by an old, beat-up RV, arguing over directions probably. Tim gesturing wildly, Tobias laughing like a maniac, Brian shaking his head with a fond sort of exasperation, Kate rolling her eyes like she’d seen it all before.

I smiled.

Maybe life wasn’t so normal anymore. Maybe it was about to get very, very strange.

But for the first time in a long time…

I wasn’t completely dreading tomorrow.

IKKK THIS IS SHORT PUT IM REALLY JUST TRYING TO SET A STORYLINE IN PLACE!!!

I’ve got the next few chapters plot lines mapped out and I’m so excited to finally be posting abt this au!! :3

#THE DINER *ೃ༄#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #ticci toby x reader #marble hornets x reader #toby rogers x reader #brian/hoodie x reader #mh brian x reader #hoodie x reader #tim wright x reader #mh tim x reader #tim/masky x reader #masky x reader #kate the chaser x y/n #kate milens x reader

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