#obviously this would all be light hearted

[amiranim]

@fangirling-heart @waveypedia @cat-of-all-tradez @sillykittysreblogs @tallytals @moonrver @myfavouritebetrayal @kulliare @poppyknitt @luna-rigain @council-ofahn @lostgaytestsubject @divviren @skysouls @tinedrise @aphiordie @trustyalt @bonsterfactory @randomwriterfiend @confrontational-just-not-on-main @its-belle-obviously @artisticdysfunction @cornercritter @ghostlyacquaintance @horrorfag420 @mpc07-foundtheinternet @berzattohugs @oreobunny2 @pia-writes-things @just-an-insy-weensy-little-guy @disaster-for-the-aesthetic @vulturvolanss @penguinparadise @woowonjaeaomg @peanutworm @olliedoesthings @8bitandbey0nd @oceanmonsters @pokemewnie @thelocalweird @tittyinfinity @joke-bear @that-one-random-stuff @justscienceseeker0602 @r0seblossums

>>>> I am not trying to disturb any of you, and I apologize for tagging you. This post will only see the light of day if I invite you to share it, especially since the silencing has been restricted. Would it be possible to share this post, please? Perhaps it will bring hope and light with your support.

I will not return to Gaza and my destroyed home anytime soon, as I do not own a car and have no one to take me. Therefore, my children and I will remain in the abandoned school, bidding farewell to everyone and watching their joy as they return.

How will I return with my belongings?

My home was completely destroyed, and I have no means of transportation. If I must return on foot, how can I leave behind my children's blankets, sleeping mats, and everything we own?

Frustration consumes me.

I don’t know what I will do on the day of return. It is exhausting and deeply worrying for me and my children.

My campaign is completely halted.

I am considering closing it, but I hope to reach 80,000 to manage my affairs. I want to travel, as I no longer have a home to return to, nor an education to secure my children’s future.

If you can feel what we are going through,

Please help us with your support and give us a chance to start anew.

Donation link: campaign link

[theyluvpeach]

¨your vibes are off.¨

chris needs a good high to sleep, so he hits you up. dealer!reader x client!chris blurb. ⋆ ★

Chris can't sleep.

He's been awake for 72 hours now. Every single time he watches the clock change to a new number, measuring the amount he hasn't had his head shoved between his pillow. He kisses teeth. His usual strain of weed from his dealer just isn't doing it for him anymore.

He doesn't like having his business all out there, but this is ridiculous. So he turns to Matt.

When Matt sends your Instagram he thinks he's tripping, why would you be a dealer?

He knows you, not personally but he's seen you around. bright outfits, big jewelry, small bottoms, tight shirts, bold makeup—He's sure everyone on campus knows your name. You're at frats everyweekend, clubs every other week.

You look like you hang out with unicorns and fairies in your free time, why on earth would you be a dealer?

He takes Matt's word though. He finds out that you're gonna be at their frat later tonight for one of his frat brother's birthday, which ultimately is perfect because he didn't feel like chasing you down.

You're not hard to spot.

Almost mesh white top, brown mini skirt, knee-high black boots, gold chains dance along your waist, and gold bangles on your arms to match. You're a sight alright.

When he comes up to you, you're leaning against the wall, hair splayed out behind you, 2 drinks in hand, and a dazed look on your face.

"Hi." You say glancing up to him with a small smile. "Chris, right? Youngest of the triplets?"

He gives a nod in return. "Mhnp..." You let out of a soft noise that leads to him locking eyes with you. The glitter that's on your lids clumps in your mascara and makes your eyes sparkle, your lips tinted in a cherry shade. He blinks at you.

You just look at him. You stare at him like you're trying to read his soul. He hates it. But he can't bring himself to look away from you.

He begins to pull out his wallet, "Matt already paid for you, s okay." He quickly shoves his wallet back into his pocket, "Hold this." You say handing him 1 of the 2 drinks you're holding, and he does. For some reason.

You reach into your bra and pull out a small glitter baggie. "Are you serious?"

You blink. "S just a bag." You roll your eyes. Chris is starting to get annoyed at how long this interaction is taking. He's been awake for far too long, and his eyes are starting to burn like crazy. He practically snatches the small bag from your hand.

Chris is pissed. "What the—?" Okay, the pink rolling paper is pushing it, but a bow wrapped around a joint?

"What is your deal—! I.." The more he stares down at the joint, the more he notices. He can see light purple and pink sprinkled throughout the joint. "What's in this?"

"Weed."

He scoffs. "Obviously, dumbass— what other shit did you put in here?"

If music wasn't blasting hard enough for you to feel it in your heart, everyone would hear how loud Chris is yelling at you.

You glare at him—The dazed look on your face slowly disappearing. "Lavender and rose. They help calm anxiety," You say, clutching the drink in your hand tighter, causing it to spill over. "It's a free joint, man, your brother already paid for it, he specifically asked for this one," You step away from the wall and maintain eye contact, you're close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

"But if my glitter bag and my bow bother you so much, you don't have to take it. So. Do. You. Want. It. Or. Not?" You hit the center of his chest with your acrylic nail repeatedly, as each word files out of your mouth. If Chris wasn't sleep deprived, he'd probably do something about it. Like dragging you off to his room and showing what else you could do with that big mouth. But right now, all he wants to do is smoke, get high, and pass the fuck out.

"I'll take it." He grumbles, staring directly down at you, refusing to be the one to break the eye contact you guys have been holding for so long.

"Yeah." You roll your eyes and step back. "That's what I thought." You say, snatching back the drink you gave him to hold and walking off.

He thinks you're an annoying little piece of work, but that doesn't stop him from staring at your ass as you walk away.

When you're finally out of his sight is when goes off to his room.

He lets out a deep sigh sigh as he closes his door behind him, the music of the party slightly muffled by his door. He feels his phone go off.

matt: yo

tf you say to n/n???

chris: ?

matt: she said your vibes are off

Chris scoffs. If he doesn't get high enough from your little mythical fairy joint he's finding you, immediately.

Chris sleeps like a baby that night.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel

[mykingdomforapen]

Your best friend doesn't want you to notice that he's hurting himself, but you do.

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't go for the arms, which means that he has thought thoroughly about this before. Instead as the two of you sit at the Sherlock Holmes themed pub that you took him to after that dive, he has one arm wrapped around his middle, and his hand tucked furtively under his white shirt at his waist.

You're not supposed to notice, but he's digging his fingernails deep into his skin until the sting of it can shock him out of crying.

You want to say something. He wants you to not notice. He's pretending that he's admiring the pub's decorum, its classic architecture and the Victorian silhouettes framed on the walls, pretending that his fish and chips and mushy peas require all of his attention. If he looks up, if you see his eyes, you know you'll see the tears rimming the edges, the pink that begins to settle in, and that's the last thing he wants.

You don't know what to do.

You're doing the best you can, and it doesn't feel like enough. Not after Cheng Xiaoshi's heart was shattered, after the hero that he built up in his head of his father so gently and eloquently snuffed out his hope like a candle. Cheng Xiaoshi won't say it, everything that he has ever feared and believed about himself, but you know that it is evolving from fear to fact in his heart--that he is unwanted by his own father, by his neighbors and peers, by virtually everyone because of some innate deficiency, some failure he cannot pay for with anything but his own skin. His parents' absence had severed self-worth from his whole being since he was a child, and as much as he had learned to skip and run and dance and laugh in spite of it, it is painfully obvious, and you can never help but notice it sometimes, the way his laugh will hobble like a stool with uneven legs.

You took him out to the River Thames in hopes that summer city lights will brighten his spirits and distract him. He agreed jubilantly, talked a mile a minute as he looked up pubs that served something not fried so that your throat will not be sore. He smiled at you. Talked in a voice that is affectionate and cheerful. Made you think that things are going to get better, that he'll be okay. And now he digs his fingernails into his flesh until he leaves welts.

You can't help but look at his arms. He wears short sleeves, and you've seen him in swimming trunks before, and you know that you would have noticed scars. But obviously, there are places of him that you haven't seen before where ugly scars could stay--his soul, for one. But you can't help but worry, after what he had said through Wang Qing's lips when she pulled up her sleeve and showed Cheng Weimin all those mottled bruises. Cheng Xiaoshi retreats into himself in his sadness, you know. And once it's out of your sight and reach, you don't know what it morphs into, and where else he will claw at himself.

But he's looking away from you, and makes mundane commentary to show that he is here, beside you. He talks nonsense of Sherlock Holmes, how he remembers there being a translated book in his attic--stops himself when he realises whose it was, then laughs louder, jokes stupider, compliments your choice in pub as if you had opened it, and you realise he worries about you, too.

It becomes a spar, almost. You suggest going to a gelato shop after this, so that he can have something sweet. He scolds you gently for considering eating something cold while you're sick. You bring up the possibility of seeing the Winnie the Pooh exhibit that he had wanted to go to but deemed not enough time. He says that he'd rather make sure you rested. It's maddening. It's a stalemate. You want to wrench his hand away from his middle. You alone know that in another life, a different sort of wound struck that place. A different kind of self-harm.

You wait until you're both out of the pub. Because he hates crying in front of people, and even more so in public. Because if you catch him red-handed, and clawed, he will hate himself for it, and he has been through enough. You both compromise on the gelato because you reasoned to him that affogato is warm. He orders a cone and he's licking the edges before they melt and you think about how much you wish life was kinder to him, and how much you wish he was kinder to himself.

"Cheng Xiaoshi," you say.

He pauses. He looks at you, and there's nervousness in his eyes, because he is convinced that you're going to say something that will make him cry. He doesn't want your pity, but how could you ever give him pity? His father confirmed his greatest nightmare, and Cheng Xiaoshi stood up and defended the little boy who wept alone and afraid in his home. He protected that inner child, even if not all parts of himself will agree.

"How's your ice cream?" you say instead.

"Good!" he says, with a little relief. "Do you want to try some?"

"Idiot, I'll spread my sickness to you."

"I don't mind. It's a good flavor. It'll go well with your coffee. Come on--"

He takes your spoon and scoops a bit of his into your affogato, and you can't help it. You reach over and ruffle his hair. It's soft and thick and you don't know what to say.

"Are you wiping your sticky hands on me?" he jokes.

But when you don't pull away, and don't speak, he quiets. Your hands are gentle, and you always keep your nails to the quick. Your touch will never hurt him. I'm proud of you, your fingers say as they stroke his head. I'm so, so proud of you. And that silent, clawed hand finally slips away from his middle.

[chubbycelebs]

Donut Lover Boys (part 1)

In a little retail park down the road from the university campus, there was a little donut shop cafe. Nestled between a Tesco Express and some fast food chain restaurant resided the small pink and white shop. The sweet smell of fresh donuts wafted out the store every time the door opened, filling the surround area with the tempting scent. Inside the cafe there were a few tables scattered around the floor, occupying the space by the front windows. The glass cabinets were displaying huge round glistening donuts. Row after row filled with the multicoloured sweetness. 

The quaint little shop always had a steady stream of customers. Being close to the campus many customers were students with a few middle aged and older people coming in early before the students get up. Of course there were the regulars that would return every few days to get a spread of donuts. 

Behind the till worked a very driven, but quiet, kind, but awkward, handsome and cute third year student; Will Baker. Will had moved to the town for university 2 years ago. He decided to work hard and make money during his years at University so got a small part time job at the cafe. He’s been working there 2 years almost and loves the place. Due to a difficult time at secondary school, being bullied a lot for being gay, he thrived being away from all that and starting a new life here. Despite working with sugary, fatty foods all day, Will had a slim figure. The pink apron wrapped tightly around his waist and flat stomach, hugging his back, displaying his little round buttocks sat in his jeans. Wills body hadn’t really changed much over the years. Apart from gradually getting hairier, (as happens with all men as they age) with a fluffy trail growing out of his boxers and reaching his belly button and a light peach fuzz over his perky ass, Will had and always will be a slim guy. 

One warm late September afternoon, around 2:30, the door swung open as Will was in the back cleaning up the machines that make the donuts. He heard the loud noises of men entering the cafe, loud booming laughs and mocking words being shouted about. These were Wills least favourite kind of customers. He never liked loud athletic sporty lads that would travel in packs. Those were the exact type of people who bullied him in school. Will took a deep breath and walked to the counter. His suspicions were correct, a group of jocks had just waltzed into the cafe, all jeering and pointing at the donuts. “How can I help you guys?” Will asked a little reluctant to be talking to them.  

“Hiya mate. Can we get two boxers of 12 donuts please mate?” The biggest of the group was the one talking to Will. Despite his active life style and huge arm muscles, Will couldn’t help but notice the tight pressing of a gut against his small tshirt. I guess for a big guy he’s gotta eat a lot Will thought to him self. 

“Yeah sure” Will said grabbing two 12 boxes, “what donuts would you guys like?” Will then spent nearly 10 minutes going through every donut and the boys all getting their picks of donuts. Finally the two boxes were filled with sugary treats and the big guy at the front paid and took the boxes. To Wills horror the boys didn’t exit but instead all took a seat and sat in the cafe. All of them… but one. 

Logan Gourmand was stood slowly walking towards the counter as he laughed with one of his friends, not acknowledging Will stood there admiring him. His body wasn’t filled with muscles but was obviously toned and very well built, the gym like clothes he wore emphasising his toned arms and slim waist. He had dark, almost black hair that was messy and out of his face, leaving his handsome face on full display. Finally Logan stopped his conversation with one of his mates and locked eyes with Will. A smile was etched across his face, revealing perfect white teeth. God. Could a man get anymore attractive? Will thought as his heart quickened in pace. 

“Erm hi!” Logan said almost awkwardly. 

“Hiya. Erm how can I help you?” Will said this with a tenderer tone then with the other guy. 

“Erm could I get a Cappuccino please? Extra milky please.” 

“Yes yes of course I’ll get right on it” Will sprung to action working away at the coffee machine. He could sense that Logan had his eyes on him the whole time. 

“You go to university here then… erm… Will?” He had looked at Wills staff name badge that was pinned on his pink apron. 

“Yeah I do yeah. Doing erm food science and nutrition. Kinda boring” Will tried to joke but Logan didn’t laugh. 

“No no not at all. Very important job. especially at a donut shop.” Logan started walking towards the glass cabinets of donuts. “Need to know exactly how many of these sugary treats it would take to pop your jeans open” He followed this up with a little chuckle and looked over at Will who also was giggling at his comment. 

“Haha yeah exactly. A very important skill when working in place where people order 24 of these treats” Will said quieter as Logan and himself were pretty much face to face across the counter top as Will finished getting his coffee ready for him. 

Logan chuckled breaking eye contact but quickly reinstating it. “You’re funny you. I like it.”

Will turned a little red in the face at this comment. He looked away from Logan sliding his order across the counter top to him. “Ah no thats not me I’m not funny.”

“Oh you are definitely. Nothing more I enjoy than making fun of those meat heads” Logun replied looking back at his friend group. 

“You not fond of them?” Will asked being a it nosey now. 

“Well they are alright. Nice bunch of lads. Just nothing behind their eyes or between their ears.” Will chuckled at this. “Prefer guys who I can have a proper laugh with” Logan said turning back to Will who was once again pink in the face and unable to answer him. “Thanks for the coffee mate.” He gives Will a smile and walks to his group of friends. He sits down and takes a donut and takes a bite out of it. 

Will was in shock at the whole interaction. Was he flirting with him? Was he just being nice? Logan still kept looking over at Will as he worked and cleaned. His eyes on him didn’t bother Will, in fact knowing that he wouldn’t look away made him excited. 

An hour passed and finally the loud group of lads decided to get up and leave. Between them all they had cleared the 24 donuts and left nothing but the slightly sugary boxes. As they all got up, Logan collected the boxes and his empty coffee cup and walked back up to the counter. “Thanks for putting up with them” he said placing the boxers on the counter for Will to take. 

“Don’t worry about it. Get guys like that all the time coming in.” Unlike before, Logan wasn’t making eye contact with him. Instead darting around the cafe. 

“Erm just wondering, and it’s fine if not don’t worry about it but if you were free maybe going out somewhere sometime?” 

Wills heart leapt. Had he just been asked out on a date by this guy? An attractive and very charming man? “Oh erm. Like a date?”

“Not if you don’t want to? I just wanna get to know you better that’s all.” He looked at Will who was still shocked and didn’t answer straight away. “You know what forget it. It’s stupid of me to ask so sorry” Logan looked down at the ground and started slowly walking away. 

“Oh no no come back. I erm, I would love to go on a date with you.” Will said going for it and following his heart, which pounded hard and fast against his chest. “But I’m working all this week till late.” Logun moved forward bsck to the counter. “I don’t wanna wait till next week to see you again.” 

“Well I guess I’ll have to really get into donuts then huh?” Will laughed at this comment as well as feeling a warmth in the pit of his stomach. He’d never felt like this for anyone before. 

Wills dating history wasn’t large at all. He had a toxic situation ship at the end of college with a “straight” man who would only want Will to suck his dick for him. Then when he came to university he slept with the first gay guy he found in the club. However the demon twink he had slept with was very judgemental of Wills body and would tell him things he didn’t like about it after they’d had sex. He’d recently seen this guy again in a club just last week. His twink like body had ballooned and swelled into one of a lazy greedy pig. He seemed to be blissfully ignorant of his gain as he sported a tight mesh crop top that showed off his jiggly love handles, found belly and his burger nipples that sat atop his drooping moobs. Whilst Will felt no attraction to the man he saw that night due to his hideous personality, he couldn’t help but admire his wobbling body in the club. 

“You’re going to sit here whilst I work all week then?” Will replied after a pause of silence to calm him self down. 

“Of course. I’ll wait and talk to you all day. And then next week we can go on our date. Sound good donut boy?” Logan teased as he leaded further over the counter, his body pressed against the glass display. 

“That sounds like the sweetest treat anyone could ask for” Will said back jokingly. The two boys giggled, exchanged goodbyes and Logan left the cafe looking back at Will who stood there grinning from ear to ear. 

He could not believe what the last hour or so had been like. He’d never had such a caring guy give him attention. Will spent the remainder of this shift smiling and slightly skipping around the cafe. He was very excited to find out where this relationship was going to take him. 

Hey guys! Sorry I’ve been gone for a while. I’ve had very little interest to post stuff on this account (still been active and enjoying content). Nothing struck me and then one night as I sat in bed eating a box of donuts to my self I had a thought about this story idea. I am very excited to be writing this story. I will try and get out a part every other day but I am very busy still so bare with me. I really hope you all enjoy the start of this story. I think the direction it’s going to go is really exciting and slightly different to what I’ve done before. Let me know anything you’d like to see on my page at all and I’ll add it to the list. Thank you all for you patience and I hope you enjoy!

[lovemybluebully]

Another movie other than Wolverine Origins (which is starting to become an underrated favorite of mine) and Deadpool and Wolverine where people would totally take advantage of Logan being ticklish is the X-Men from X-Men (2000). Jean, Rogue, and the other X-Men would definitely take advantage of tickling Logan, finding it hilarious that the tough Wolverine is so ticklish.

The OG X-men movie will always have a special place in my heart. 🥰 I can't believe that came out 25 years ago! 😭 But absolutely the other X-men would delight in partaking to tickle Logan to pieces!

He's so standoffish and tense around them all in the beginning, but eventually he starts to relax and realize that he's in a safe place.

Headcanons below the cut 👇

ROGUE:

I think one of the first to learn about Logan being ticklish would likely be Rogue. Her and Logan just have that close bond that makes Wolverine soften up and actually be vulnerable around her.

He'd probably tickle her sometimes to try to cheer her up if she needed it or just for fun as I imagine that with her mutation she probably enjoys sharing in any kind of physical affection that she can get. And that means she also likes giving it back!

At first Logan insists that he's not ticklish because of course that idea is just completely absurd, but eventually he can no longer evade all of her attempts. Once she is able to give his sides some good squeezes, he just can't hold in his giggles though he instinctively continues to try to play it off. She's determined to prove him wrong and tickles him even harder until he's laughing so much that there's no denying it anymore.

Despite his reluctance to show weakness Logan understands what it means to her and doesn't really fight it, even though he can barely handle it. He made a vow to take care of her and that includes her mental health. He'll let her tickle him until he's crying if it will make her happy, and a lot of times she'll do exactly that. She cares a lot about him too and knows that he's always in a better mood after she gets him laughing like that.

Sometimes she even manages to rope Bobby into helping her while Logan protests about the unfairness of two against one.

JEAN:

Jean obviously figures it out with him always being in the infirmary so she's constantly touching him which causes him to blurt out that it tickles (as seen in CANON towards the end of the movie ☝😁). Usually, he's pretty stripped down to nothing but a pair of pants, or sometimes even just his boxer shorts if he has any more serious injuries on his legs so he's very exposed during these exams.

Jean's touch is so gentle and light that Logan can't resist the urge to squirm when she's working around any of his really ticklish areas, like his stomach; his reactions charming her to no end. But being that this is the woman he's become infatuated with Logan naturally doesn't mind any of it one bit.

He even goes so far as to make provoking quips that result in many "accidental" tickles. Her "accidentally" probing that sensitive spot on his lower ribs a little too hard, or "accidentally" scratching her fingers along the bottom of his bare foot in passing, or Oh no! Is that a lump she feels under his arm?! Better check them both thoroughly to make sure!

If she's ever feeling particularly vindictive then Logan is in big trouble being that she possesses the ability of telekinesis. That means she can easily hold him down and really show him just how ticklish he is, and it doesn't take long before he's begging for mercy through hysterical laughter.

ORORO:

Storm is probably the gentlest of all with him. While everyone else likes to get him laughing pretty hard she tends to just give him little pokes here and there when she's trying to get him to smile. Logan genuinely enjoys her company as she just has an aura about her that makes him feel like he doesn't need to put on his tough guy front around her so much. (I personally MUCH prefer LoganxOroro over LoganxJean.)

Seeing him fully relaxed is not a common thing and Ororo does her best to help him out with that. An offer for a massage from her is always on the table and there are many times Logan will seek her out to request her talents. She is not limited on where she will massage him; back, neck, feet, anywhere really that he feels he could use it, and Logan is not shy about shedding any of his clothes.

Even though she is known to mix in some light tickling with it all this does not dissuade Logan one bit. He has never admitted it out loud, but he secretly finds the soft tickles to be relaxing. Ororo knows of course, seeing him giggle and squirm without any objection to what she is doing to him. Occasionally she'll throw in some playful teases if she wants to see him blush too, though that usually gets her some half-hearted growls.

FYI there is a super adorable t-fic with Logan and Ororo by @snugglyfluffle that you all should go read if you haven't already. 🥰

https://www.tumblr.com/snugglyfluffle/763570606365081600/purring-pup?source=share

SCOTT:

Logan and Scott are definitely not on the best of terms, especially with Logan sniffing around Jean so much. Logan likes to flex on him to show him just how tough he really is though Scott typically tries to be the bigger man and ignore it. Sometimes Logan just gets too much in his personal space though and when Scott puts his hands on Logan's stomach to push him away, he notices how Logan curls up a little and defensively puts his arms over the area.

Only later does Scott realize what that was about and now that he knows the tough guy is ticklish, he exploits that the first chance that Logan gives him an excuse to. Scott is the only person that Logan genuinely dislikes being tickled by since the only reason he does it is to try to humiliate him. He has to control himself to not stab Scott in anger because he knows that Jean would definitely not be happy about that.

Never wanting to give Scott the satisfaction of forcing him to laugh Logan does his best to hold it all in for as long as possible. Eventually when he does break, he takes the opportunity to boast about how much better Jean is at tickling him than Scott is. This pisses off Scott to no end and his tickling gets a lot rougher to the point of causing pain, which Logan is much more accustomed to dealing with. Despite the position he's in Logan always feels like he comes out the winner in those situations.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. angst. angry dean. implied death. strong language.

A/N : obviously i changed a few things for the character insert so bear with me. hopefully y’all don’t hate it too much. thanks for reading 💜

Maricela's POV

Dean had taken Kevin to a motel in Branson for a few days while Sam and I stayed at the bunker. After everything that's happened these past few weeks, Dean and I decided to take a little break ourselves. Sam—of course—had questions that I didn't know how to answer. Pretending that Dean never told me anything seemed to cease his inquiries—to me, at least. I knew he was waiting for his brother to get home to fill in the blanks. So, after attempting and failing to get more demon names from Crowley, I try and distract Sam.

"Saaammmm!" I whine as I walk toward the Winchester.

He sits on one of the chairs in front of the Map Table, documents from the Men of Letters scattered before him.

"Hmm?" He hums, eyes scanning over the records before scribbling on a notepad.

I wrap my arms around his neck from behind and nuzzle my face against his. "Take a break—watch a movie with me."

He taps my forearm gently, replying, "I can't. I have to find a way to help Cas."

"Trust me, I want nothing more than Cas to be here, but we can’t help him if we burn ourselves out. Let's just take a little break." My arms falter from their position before straightening my posture. I lean against the table, finishing my persuasion. "It'll still be here in a couple of hours—I'll even let you pick the movie."

He puts his pen down, then swivels his chair to face me entirely. His lips purse as he ponders my proposition. With my head tilted to the side, my brows slightly pinched, and pleading eyes peeking through my lashes, a tiny frown ties my puppy dog look together. Despite his dithering, I knew he couldn't say no to me. With a heavy sigh, he throws his hands up in defeat.

Sam stands from his seat and mutters, "Fine."

"Yay!" I cheer, already walking towards the kitchen. "I'll grab the snacks while you get the movie ready."

Heading straight towards the shelves, which held all nonperishable foods, I reach for the snacks only Sam and I would consume. I grab the Jiffy Pop popcorn and bring it to the stove. Just as I was about to ignite the burner, the door to the bunker slammed closed. The men's voices carry into the kitchen. My heart flutters at the return of the eldest brother. Self-consciously, I tuck my curtain bangs behind my ears and straighten my clothing.

A light blush rushes to my cheeks, embarrassed about getting this flustered over a man. I wait a few moments, allowing the pinkness a chance to fade. Once the flush subsides, I focus on why I came into the kitchen in the first place. Deciding not to cook the kernels, I leave the gathered food on the island and walk toward the War Room. Dean stood with his arms crossed, listening to his younger brother.

They look underneath the table before Sam says, "You're never gonna believe what we found."

"You showing him the computer?" I ask and get a nod from the younger Winchester.

I follow behind the boys as Sam leads us to the new room we found earlier. He opens the door and flips the light switch, revealing a humongous machine in the middle of the room. It had at least a hundred buttons that lined the board.

"Voilà."

"This is a computer?" asks Dean.

"Yeah—or it was in 1951 when it was installed." We circle to the back of the machine as Sam raises his finger like Velma would often do when talking, continuing our discovery. "Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, I have no idea what's making this thing work."

Dean runs his hand along the side of the metal, stopping to say, "It's warm here."

Sam puts his hand where his brother implies, feeling the heat for himself. Dean uses his fingers to open the panel to the computer's back but lucks out. I inspect the shelves of miscellaneous items and find a flathead screwdriver, then hand it to Dean. He takes it and turns around, jamming the tool into the back of the computer. The metal creaks, refusing to open, but he jimmies harder. Suddenly, the panel clatters to the floor, and he stumbles into the wall and shelves behind him.

"Got it." He clears his throat, trying to play it cool.

With the back now open, we squat to see inside. Sam retrieves a flashlight from his rear pocket to illuminate the machine. However, the guts weren’t like any computer I've seen. And judging from their responses, they haven't either.

"Huh." Sam breathes.

"Well, that looks simple. Does it come with a manual?"

"Nothing in the archives, and I obviously couldn't find anything like it online, not to mention I'm pretty sure that the Men of Letters doesn't exactly have I.T. support anymore, either."

"I think I know somebody who could help us," I mention, standing up to fetch my phone. "Come on."

Wordlessly, the boys follow me out of room 28.

Charlie walks into the bunker along with Sam. He holds her duffle bag as they walk down the steps like the gentleman he is. Dean and I call our hello's before getting out of our chairs. She waves and meets us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Thanks for coming," Dean says, hugging her before me.

"Not a problem, especially since I got fired last week," Charlie admits.

"Hey, what?" Sam questions after setting her bag on the Map Table. "What happened?"

"Turns out the company I work for was outsourcing to child labor, so I took a big WikiLeak all over that. And, yeah. It's cool, though. It's given me more time to focus on my hobbies..." Charlie trails off, watching Dean closely. My eyes go wide, knowing what she was going to reveal. I subtly shake my head, trying to prevent her from enduring the same judgment I went through. Ignoring me, she continues, "Like LARPing, Macrame, and hunting."

"Excuse me?" Dean's voice lowers in a dad-like tone. His hands rest on his hips as he peers down at the red-head.

Her arms quickly rise in defense, trying to calm Dean's growing anger. "Okay. It was just a couple little cases. I took down a teenage vampire and a ghost...which sounds like a Y.A. novel if you say it out loud."

"Charlie, how'd it go?" Sam inquires.

"It was, uh..." She glances at Dean, his mouth hung agape in disbelief. Her gaze shifts to me, frowning momentarily before darting to Sam. "It was intense. I had a close friend helping in case anything went sideways. As you can see, I'm fine. But I kind of wish hunting was more...magical, you know?"

"Close friend—who?" Dean inquires urgently, ignoring her last sentence.

I shake my head, hoping my pleading eyes will make her keep my identity a secret. Charlie stares at me, hesitating to answer. Dean follows her eyes and sees my plea before I have a chance to mask it. Fuck. His eyes grew wider before narrowing in anger.

"You knew about this and didn't tell us? Worse—you took her hunting?"

"I didn't take her hunting; She wanted to go herself. So, I offered to assist."

Dean's eyes roll at my response. "You should've changed her mind!"

"I didn't need to do shit. She's a grown-ass woman, Dean! She can make decisions for herself. If she wants to hunt, that's her prerogative."

"She can get herself killed, and the last person who should be teaching her to hunt is you!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask defensively.

"It means you can hardly keep yourself alive."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"Is it? 'Cause it's getting real old having to constantly worry every hunt if that one will be your last. I have enough crap on my plate, and making sure you don't get killed isn’t something I signed up for. God, it’s exhausting. You’re the last person I would ever want on my mind.”

Silence fills the room once his honesty leaves his sharp tongue. His words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless. Was it as bad as it sounded, or was the pain I was feeling heightened by my love for him? His face didn't seem to carry any remorse. Instead, he loomed over me, his annoyance palpable as he peered down with a towering stance.

"Sorry, I've been such an inconvenience for you. Maybe next time I'll die, so you don't have to worry anymore." My words dripped with disgust as I desperately tried to mask the hurt I felt.

I don’t waste another moment in the War Room and in his presence. Ignoring Sam's calls, I storm into the corridor. Anger replaces my pain the closer I get to my room. How dare he say those things. I'm a great hunter! I've been hunting for years; I knew what I was doing. I never took on something I couldn't handle by myself.

In a rage, I slam my door closed. I'm a damn good hunter! I assure myself. Every single one has been close to death, so why was I any different? He goes in guns blazing, too! He doesn't have any regard for his life, and he's made that known on many occasions.

Knowing that my thoughts would only aggregate me further, I grab my wireless headphones from my desk. With the light off, I stumble to my bed and get comfortable as I turn on the set playlist for times like this. I close my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the music and not my fist in Dean's face. As each song played, I felt my anger subside a little more. I can’t be sure how much time has passed, but the frustration rushes back once my headphones get yanked off.

"What the hell?" I yell at the figures towering over me.

"We've got a problem."

Sam, Dean, and I scavenge the halls after they explain what was going on. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch are real, and just so happen to be in the bunker. We wander to the dungeon, instantly greeted with Crowley's whistle rendition of ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow.’ The men stroll closer to the King of Hell as I follow behind.

"Wow, if it isn't the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and Dorothy. Well—not the real one, anyway. As for your other new houseguest—so misunderstood." The demon joked, yet no one but him found it amusing. "Either of you saw 'Wicked?'"

"What did she say to you?" Sam demands.

"Something along the lines of..." Crowley trails off before hissing.

"All right, well, I'm gonna go get some holy oil and a lighter, dick bag." Dean chimes in, turning to fetch the items, but stops once the demon starts speaking.

"I know what she's looking for."

"What does she want?" I ask.

"I'd be happy to tell you as soon as I get to stretch my legs."

The younger Winchester nods toward the prisoner, agreeing. With annoyance, Dean moves to fill the King of Hell's request. Sam and I aim our guns in case Crowley tries to pull anything. With one hand, Dean grabs the key out of his pocket to unlock the lock around the metal collar, while the other hand holds the demon blade to the demon's throat as a warning. Dean backs away as the soulless monster happily pries the collar off, chains clattering when he drops it to the table.

"Oh." He chuckles, standing from his seat.

"What does the witch want?" Sam questions.

"Give me a mo. I still need to air myself out." Crowley pushes.

With my gun already raised, I shoot a round into the demon's chest. He looks down at it, physically unfazed. "I think you're aired out enough."

"Rude." He murmurs before picking up the crumbled-up paper from the table to reveal the word: key.

"Key? What key?" Sam presses.

"I haven't the foggiest. Had to send her off on a merry chase before she could melt me." The King of Hell flashes his pearly whites before revealing, "Told her you boys kept the keys in the kitchen. You do have a kitchen in this crap hole, don't you?"

We look at one another before racing to the destination. Once in the kitchen, it was clear it had been ransacked. There wasn't one surface that was left untouched. I groan, knowing I had to clean it later.

"Damn it, I just cleaned in here." Dean sighs in disappointment.

"Really?" Sam rhetorically asks in sarcasm.

Walking down the steps, the Dick of the Day states the obvious, "Looks like we got a witch here."

Someone walks into the other door to the kitchen, and we quickly draw our weapons only to see Charlie and the Dorothy.

"Sorry. We raided your gun range." Charlie extended her arm for us to see what was in her hand. "Made us some poppy bullets. They won't kill the witch, but they will stun the crap out of her."

Dean picks up the casing, examining the bullets. "That's my girl." He murmurs, his eyes lingering on her before seeking a glance at me as his attention shifts to his handgun.

If it weren't for the fight we had earlier, I would’ve been jealous that he’d never complimented me like that once before. Instead, the 'jealousy' turns into more anger. What was it that made him act differently towards me? I wonder.

"There was only enough for five bullets, so...make each shot count."

We load the bullets into our magazines as Dorothy speaks, "Now we just have to find her before she finds whatever the hell she's looking for."

"She's looking for a key." I clarify.

"How do you know?" Charlie inquires.

"Little birdie told us," Sam responds. "Ring any bells, Dorothy?"

"Unfortunately," She replies with dismay. "It's the key to Oz. There are magical ways into Oz—tornado, eye of a hurricane, whirlpool—but this key will turn any locked door into a portal to Oz. Insert key, twist, and presto, you're in Oz."

"How did the Men of Letters get the key?" I question.

"I have no idea, but if she finds it, she'll go back and finish what she started. She'll destroy all that is good in Oz. She's got armies of witches, flying monkeys. Many will die."

"What's this key look like?" Dean interjects.

Dorothy pulls out a journal from the inside of her jacket. We huddle around her as she quickly flips through the beige pages. Finally, she finds the one with information regarding the sought-after key. The top read 'KEEP SAFE' and was written with three exclamation marks. A sketch of the key took up half the page but was perfectly detailed to identify when searching for it.

"I've seen that key." The oldest Winchester confesses. "Found it when I was doing inventory."

"Where is it now?"

"My room. We got to get to that key. All right, Maricela, Charlie, and I will go look in my room." He turns to Sam and finishes, "Why don't you guys buy us some time?"

"I'll go with Sam," I speak dryly, not wanting to be around Dean any longer than I had to. His deep voice utters an 'I don't think so,' to which I roll my eyes. "Oh, right. You don't think I can handle myself, so I can't leave your side."

Without waiting for a comeback, I try storming to his room, but before I can leave the kitchen, his hand grabs my arm, pulling me back. I turn around and snatch my limb back, my eyes narrowing at his touch, daring him to do it again. Sam and Dorothy had left the room, leaving us three. Ignoring my glare, the Winchester’s gaze shifts between Charlie and me as he speaks.

"Safest place in this joint is the dungeon."

"You have a dungeon in this place?" She inquiries, giving me déjà vu. "Of course you do."

"So maybe you two should..." Dean trails off, implying we run from the danger.

Before I speak up, Charlie says, "We are not hiding, especially in a dungeon. Wicked witch, a key, a quest?" She playfully punches his shoulder—had it been me, it would've been rougher and somewhere else. With glee, she declares, "Let's do this."

She pivots and heads towards Dean's room. I turn on my heel and ignore his calls as I walk with Charlie. After giving up, he assigns us corners of his room to scavenge. I rifled through his desk drawers and a box of files he handed me.

"You keep your porn meticulously organized, but not—" Charlie starts to criticize before Dean interrupts.

"Don't judge me." He rifles through a wooden crate before calling out, "Ah! Yahtzee."

Charlie and I face the man who found what we were searching for. Suddenly, she gasps, calling out his name as she stares at the witch behind him. He turns around, and the witch snatches the key from his hand. She backhands his face, knocking him on the bed behind him before he bounces off with a grunt and rolls into the wall. The Wicked Witch pockets the key in her black cloak before raising her right hand towards the Winchester. The power began to gather in her hand, emitting a green glow.

Panicking, I shout, "No!"

Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dean. As I intended, my body shields his, absorbing the blast instead. And in the blink of an eye, I'm in the middle of the woods, the sun high in the sky, as I point a gun at the beer bottles set up ahead.

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

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[mintaikk]

Okay, I've been wrapped up in omegaverse discourse with the whole Alpha and Omega thing, and its so entertaining, so you know what we need?

We need furry discourse like the omegaverse has. I wanna see roleplays with calico cat furries explaining that just bcuz they're a Trans man, doesn't mean they have to die their fur because being a calico isn't gendered. I wanna see discourse about skunks having to demand themselves, and there's protests talking about how bad that can be for their health. I wanna see people argue like the omegaverse does!

[thasorns]

THE HEART KILLERS (2024-2025) เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า dir. Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong

[sheathnknife]

the vampire diaries 8.16 // louise gluck, crossroads

“and damon, like the voiceover tell us, he was worried he would never see stefan again. it was just elena assuring him that there would be peace. that we’ve dealt with this other side of darkness for several seasons, but there’s also light out there and there’s peace, and damon will find it. if you search for it, you will find it. and we wanted to get that last moment to see that [...] damon found it too, and it looked just like his brother.” — kevin williamson

[night-triumphantt]

Happy Birthday @cashweasel beloved, have a soft kiyazan non confession confession, love you and these two idiots sm and I hope your day was amazing

[honorhearted]

@forlibcrty liked for a short starter!

For a long moment, Benjamin could only gape at Connor. Despite holding immense fondness for knowledge and life's mysteries, he had to admit: he was genuinely at a loss for words.

Eyes narrowing, he pressed, "All right, at the risk of sounding like a jingle-brained lout, I have to know... Where did you learn to do that?" And how?

[strawberry-cowmilk]

shoutout to the hero cotton scrunchie in my college bag that absorbed like half of the water that got in there because my water bottle decided to leak

[everysongineverykey]

would you guys be willing to accept long away by queen into your hearts as a crowley song. because every time i listen to it while thinking about him i cry uncontrollably. when he first heard it in the seventies he had a year-long mental breakdown from all his unprocessed falling trauma and then eventually he managed to get to a point where he could listen to it without crying and then s2 happened and he got in the car one day after aziraphale had left and it was playing and for the first time in his whole existence he got the urge to smash up the bentley with a tire iron until it exploded. you can trust me i'm neil gaiman

[gojofile]

☆ gojo satoru x fem!reader ⇢ domestic fluff, established relationship. read the nsfw continuation of this here!

“i think we should get married, satoru.”

the sentence is whispered into the bedroom, completely dark if not for the lights of the city bleeding in through the window. you mean it. you really do. there’s no one else you would marry if not for gojo satoru; it is unthinkable, out of the question. 

this unshakeable conviction is swayed when you feel him, with your back to his chest, stiffen. 

“no,” satoru says.

you frown, heart rabbiting inside your chest. you twist in his arms, turning around to face him. his blue eyes, bright as ever, widen. he chews on his bottom lip. 

“no?” you echo.

“no—i mean, yes, but—but no—”

your frown deepens. “satoru. do you not want to marry me?”

satoru’s mouth parts and he inhales shakily. he lifts a hand and presses his thumb lightly to the middle of your forehead, as though he’s smoothing out the creases in your scowl. “you’re angry.”

“obviously,” you retort. “the man i love said he doesn’t want to marry me, wouldn’t anyone—”

“i didn’t say i wouldn’t marry you,” he counters.

“but you didn’t say you would.”

“yeah,” he agrees. “you basically ruined everything.”

you gape at him, at a loss for words. there’s no way he’s being serious. there’s no way this is happening. is this how your relationship ends? because you blurted out that you want to marry him? 

he scrambles off the bed, and you shiver a little at the escape of his warmth. you hear him rummaging through the drawer next to the desk, hear him hiss a curse word under his breath. you squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him.

satoru says your name, the syllables sliding off his tongue the way they always have, though he says it differently now. desperately, almost. “please, look at me,” he says.

you open your eyes—you’ve always been weak to him and his entreaties, after all. he kneels in front of you, on the side of the bed, and that’s a sight in itself, gojo satoru kneeling on the cold, hard floor.

but he has a ring in his hand and a soft smile on his lips, and you swear you forget how to breathe. you can barely see the movements of his mouth, hear the words uttered into the darkness of the bedroom, but your heart thumps loudly anyway and something golden spreads through your chest.

“i had a whole speech and everything prepared, but fuck it. marry me?”

[nanaslutt]

Pussy so good he broke the couch

ʚ ft. Perv Roomate Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, rough sex, dirty talk, spit, unprotected sex, choking, praise, 1 face slap, spit, manhandling, teasing, sexual tension, consensual photography 

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You and your roommate Geto had quite the routine down by now. The two of you would turn off all the lights in the house except for the small side table lamp next to the couch before you gathered the essentials, blankets, pillows, and snacks. Only the snacks often were forgotten about. Without fail about twenty minutes into the movie, Geto would spread his arm out on the back of the couch, scooting closer to you as he did so. That's how it always started.

Of course, when he made such an obvious move like that, you couldn't just ignore him, right? So you scooted closer to him as well, closing the gap between you as you lay your head down on his shoulder, his body heat seeping into your skin. Suguru would soon abandon grabbing the back of the couch and scoot his arm forward, placing his arm around your shoulders.

The entire time the two of you stayed silent, no one uttering so much as a work to the other as the tension in the room grew. Not even when Suguru removed his arm from the back of you and brought it around to grab onto your thigh, his large, warm hand massaging the skin. This is usually where you start to really feel it. Your mouth runs dry, your palms get sweaty, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the ache.

"You okay?" Geto always asked, noticing how hot you were getting, and you always answered with a smile and a nod, both of you pretending you had no idea what was going on despite the way you looked at each other like you wanted to devour the other. Suguru would slide his hand higher and higher, teasing his pinky on the inside of your thigh, making your breathing pick up.

Now Geto was fully hard and aching in his pants, thank god for the blanket draped across the two of you. Not like you seeing how hard he was matters when he would be buried balls deep inside you in a couple of minutes. Even when Geto started rubbing his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, making your heart rate spike, your breath obviously louder and more stuttered now, he kept his eyes on the TV, pretending to watch the movie as if he wasn't touching your cunt.

Only when you grabbed his wrist and finally moaned out his name so sweetly, breaking the silence, did the two of you give up the innocent act and give in to your desire. This night was no different, and Suguru was currently caging you in with his strong arms, his cock threatening to poke your cervix, as he pounded you into the couch.

"That's all you f-fucking got? G-give it to me Suguru." You moaned, your words coming out broken and stuttered despite your challenging words and cocky smile to match. Suguru shook his head as he wet his lips with his tongue, his hips never letting up inside you. "You want it harder? Huh?" He groaned against your lips, breathing in your moans, making him dizzy.

You wrapped your arms harder around his neck, pulling him closer against you. Each time he thrust his hips inside you, his hard pelvis was rubbing perfectly against your swollen clit, making your toes curl. "Yeah, give it to me harder." You moaned, your words a teasing barely-there whisper against his lips, making him groan in response, his face already flushed from feeling how tight and wet you felt around him.

"You sure? You look like you can barely keep up with this pace." Geto teased, laughing as he raked his eyes across your face, keeping his hips moving. Suguru pulled his lip between his teeth when you squeezed hard around him, his cock throbbing at the feeling. "You s-sure you're the one who can't handle it?" You teased back, squeezing your legs around his hips, pressing his cock deeper inside you when he thrust in.

You opened your mouth a hairs length away from his lips, feigning a kiss which he tried to reciprocate; his own lips parted expectantly; before you whispered, "You seem like you're about to cum already, need to take a break?" Suguru felt the vein in his forehead pop out at your words. The smile on your face was quickly wiped off as your brows knit together when Suguru's hand constricted around your throat, shutting down any more teasing words from you.

"You're so fucking smart today huh? Let's see who cums first." Geto groaned, emphasizing his words by squeezing his hand harder around your throat. The action made stars arise in your vision, it felt so fucking good when he choke you, the feeling always went straight to your cock. He closed the distance between your lips at the same time he picked up his pace. If his hips weren't bullying you before, they sure as hell were now.

You tried to keep up with the pace of Geto's tongue and he forced it against yours, overpowering you with it just like he was doing with his body against yours. Geto was fucking you so hard, his cock filling you up entirely, leaving no part of your walls untouched as he buried himself balls deep over and over. Your moans were being forced out of your mouth and into Geto's by his ruthless hips, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back.

You moved your tongue weakly against his, your head starting to go dumb from the reduced air intake your lungs were getting thanks to his iron grip on your lungs. You were granted a little reprieve when he pulled away from your lips and sat back on his heels, your legs forced apart as they rested on his thighs. Geto pulled the fat of your upper thigh against him to make sure he was as close as possible before he started fucking into you again, somehow harder.

This new position was making him feel so much deeper. Your eyes repeatedly rolled back in your head as nothing but incoherent moans and whines left your lips, echoing throughout the room, the movie playing quietly in the backround still. You gripped Geto's wrist for support with both of your hands, the action only making him squeeze your throat tighter.

He shook his head watching your body squirm around against the cushions, he couldn't decide if you were trying to escape his cock or get more of it, it was cute. Suguru's face and chest were now the same color, beat red, as your pussy made him go dumb, his brain on autopilot telling him "harder, harder, harder, don't stop, make her cum." 

"Such a filthy girl." Suguru groaned, a pussydrunk smile on his face as he took in your tits jiggling in every direction from the force of his thrusts. "F-uck S-suguruuu-" You tried to cry, pressing your thighs together tightly around his waist. "'S that feel good? 'M I fucking you nice n deep how you like it?" He asked, his balls slapping against your ass making a loud, lewd sound emanate into the room.

You nodded your head furiously in his hold while you repeated, "Yesyesyes 's fucking deep-" Over and over. Geto couldn't believe how someone so fucked out could still manage to look so beautiful. Tears and sweat were sliding down your cheeks and mixing into one, your flyaways were sticking to your forehead and your body was shaking and trembling with every thrust.

Geto released his hand from around your throat before quickly stuffing two fingers into your open mouth. You were too fucked out to close your lips around them, just letting your tongue swirl around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin. "You're so fucking hot, takin' my cock so good pretty girl." He praised, shaking his head at how shameless you were.

The couch made a loud creaking sound with every thrust, challenging the volume of your own moans. It did that every time though, both of you learning over time to tune it out as the sound soon became backround noise just like the TV. Geto's cock leaked pre-cum into your cunt every time you squeezed around him, becoming nothing more than added wetness as he continued thrusting inside you.

He tipped his head back and let his eyes fall shut as he relished in how warm and tight you were, making his balls throb with the need for release but he could tell you were getting close. Suguru hooked his fingers on the inside of your cheek, stretching your mouth open before he leaned over you and gripped your jaw with the other. You were jolted back to reality when Geto spat right on your tongue, your mouth closing instinctively, his fingers still inside, as you swallowed what he gave you.

Suguru sat back up and grinned, his cock throbbing at how eagerly you swallowed for him. He pulled his fingers out from your wet mouth before he pulled his hand back and left a small smack on your face, the noise echoing through the room. You smiled at the feeling, your cheek stinging a bit from where he just hit you, but it was quickly replaced by a kiss as he was now on top of you again, his body caging you in.

"What are you smiling for, huhh? You like gettin' hit?" Suguru teased, squishing your cheeks together. You nodded dumbly at his words, trying to rock your hips back up into him as you kept your cloudy eyes on his. Suguru smiled while shaking his head at you, "so. fucking. dirty." He groaned, emphasizing his words with his hips.

You moaned against his lips when he crashed his face against yours, his hand moving from your jaw to down between your bodies as he found your clit with ease, rubbing against it using small, quick circles. Your moans increased in pitch as you whined against him, his mouth swallowing up your sounds. Your legs shook with oversensitivity. His cock was steadily beating against the most sensitive parts inside you, and now he was rubbing your clit just right? Fuck, it was making you go crazy.

With your arms now snugly around his shoulders, you tried tapping repeatedly against them, a small smacking sound being created from how needily you were hitting him. "Too much? Gonna cum?" Geto teased as he pulled away from your lips. Your back arched off the cushions, your head tipping back with it as you felt your orgasm build up steadily inside you. "F-fuck, fuck don't stop- d-don't fucking stop-" You begged, your eyebrows pinching together with pleasure. 

Suguru's insatiable lips found your neck when you tipped it back. His lips and tongue working together against your skin to suck hickeys and lick fat, hot stripes against you followed by kisses. Just when you were about to be pushed over the edge by Geto's fat cock that was fucking you so well, you heard a loud cracking sound followed by a crash. 

Geto's cock slipped out of you as the couch split in two, your body falling into the crevice, Geto's arms pinning around you. "Wha-" You mouthed, feeling a slight ache in your lower back from where you had hit the broken wood. Your orgasm had fizzled away the instant the couch broke, but you still felt that tight ball of need deep in your tummy.

While you were trying to put together what just happened using your fuzzy, fucked out brain, Geto's large hand manhandling you took you out of it as you were placed on the floor next to the now broken couch on all fours. "W-wait the-" Your words were cut off as Geto slid his cock back inside you all at once, a groan leaving your lips simultaneously.

Geto seemed to be in a trance as he picked up right where he left off, fucking into you hard and quick, his hand dipping under your body to rub against your clit. "S-suguruu-" You whined, reaching for his hand. You must've forgotten you needed your arms to hold yourself up because as you gripped his wrist between your legs from under you, the front half of your body fell forward against the floor. Thank god for the plush carpet under your face.

"Cum for me, I can feel how close you are, cmon give it to me, n-need to feel it." Geto groaned, his words rushed and voice deep as he spoke. All of his actions were full of lust, he was more fucked out than you now. His other hand grabbed the fat of your ass and used that grip to pull you back against him harder, making his cock ruthlessly pound against your g-spot.

Geto's pace was getting sloppier, and you could feel how often he was twitching inside you, he was about to cum. Your knees pressed together and your feet kicked up between Geto's legs, fluttering as you were worked up to your orgasm again. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as he kept rubbing your clit, sloppy, messy circles doing the job just right. "Ohhhmygod-" You moaned through your teeth, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt your orgasm crash over you.

Geto's body fell on top of yours, his hand caging you in by your head as he finished with you, releasing rope after rope of hot cum deep in your walls as your cunt pulsed around him, milking the cum from his balls. The two of your moans mixed together so sweetly, his hot breath tickling by your ear as his body went limp, save for his hips that kept shallowly, weakly thrusting his cock inside you, making sure he filled you up nice and deep.

"Sugu..." You whined, turning your head toward him. Geto let you grab his cheek and pull him down towards you, his lips meeting your own in a sweeter kiss, still a little fast, but more controlled. You pulled away from his lips after a moment to catch your breath, your lips parting with mutual pants as you rested your head between your arms on the ground in front of you. 

Geto sat up and slowly pulled his hips back, both of you groaning at the oversensitivity. You could feel the strange and slightly uncomfortable feeling of Geto's cum chasing his cock as it dripped from your hole, sliding down your thigh. "mmmmmmm...." You groaned in disgust, your thighs pressing together to stop any more from coming out, to no avail of course.

You felt Geto's fingers pull your pussy lips apart as he oggled his masterpiece before you heard the camera click of your roommate taking a picture, your body getting illuminated by the light. Geto retracted his thumb from your cunt as he whistled, staring at his phone. You pushed yourself up on shaky arms and sat on your sore bottom, now facing him. "Did you just take a picture of my cunt?" You asked, looking at him incredulously.

You didn't care about him taking pictures. He'd done it before and you knew he was too weirdly possessive over you to show anyone else. "Yeah." He smiled, turning his phone around to face you. You were met with the apps on his home screen, only they were sitting on a unique backround, your dripping cunt. "Suguru you are NOT using my pussy as your homescreen you freak." You chastized, trying to snatch his phone out of his hand.

He retracted it out of your reach and placed it on the side table behind him before he faced you again. "It's hot, no one goes into my phone anyways." He shrugged, smiling at you, his face still red. You sighed and shook your head, not wanting to argue right now. You reached out and brushed his hair out of his face before you raked your hand down his scalp, practically making the dark-haired man purr. "Feels good." He said, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch.

"I bet it does." You responded, scratching the back of his head. "You know what's not gonna feel good though?" You asked, keeping a sweet and innocent smile on your face for him to see when he opened his eyes, looking at you quizzically. "Your bank account when you get done buying me a new couch." 

Suguru's face immediately fell into a frown, a bit of a dramatic one as he glanced over at the very broken couch before back to you. "It was an accident." He said pouting. "I knowww~" You cooed, smiling at him through the irritation, "A six thousand dollar accident!!" You finished, dropping your hand and patting him on the thigh. "Good luck!! I want a grey couch this time by the way." You smiled, rubbing his thigh.

[rainrot4me]

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

-

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

-

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 

-

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 

-

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

-

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

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