𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥 (Ticci Toby x Male Reader)

◦•●◉✿ Ꮢ𐒀Ꮏ Ꭿ𐒐Ꮄ ᎴᏋᏟᎯᎽ ✿◉●•◦

The night grew nearer as I drove home from the long day at work. I was one of the few people on the road, which I personally loved. The street lamps lined the roads, being the only source of warm light.

My mind was filled with a warm feeling as I pulled into my driveway. I turned off the ignition and unbuckled my seatbelt. After a long day of not seeing Toby, I'd say I was excited to hang out with him some more.
I put my keys, wallet, and phone in my pocket before grabbing the bag from the passenger seat.

As I walked up to the front door and turned the handle, I realized it was locked. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I shook the handle, trying again. I sighed, knocking on the door. Toby must have locked it out of paranoia or something silly.

A few moments later, Toby answered the door. He peeked out cautiously before swinging the door open with a smile.

"You're home!" He said, making way for me to come inside.

"Yeah, finally!" I cheered, walking inside and placing the bag on the coffee table. "I'm home a bit late because I brought dinner."

Toby went over and peeked into the bag as I set my keys and wallet on the counter.

"What all did you get?" Toby asked, pulling the stuff from the bag.

"I got some fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits, I think." I said, taking off my belt and walking back to my room. I threw the belt on the floor and went back to the kitchen.

"I haven't had friend chicken in forever." Toby smiled, reaching into the bucket and pulling out a piece.

"Well, I have plenty, so have at it." I said, sitting on the couch across from Toby.

Toby sat on the floor out of preference, taking a large bite from the chicken. I was about to offer a seat next to me, but he seemed fine sitting on the plush rug under him.

"How was your day at work?" Toby asked me, taking another bite from his food. I offered him a napkin before taking out some chicken for myself.

"It was fairly good," I said, taking a crunchy bite of the chicken. "I found out that my coworker, Trevor, quit and moved up north for some combat training school." I said, still in disbelief from the events.

Toby nodded.

"Who's Trevor?" He asked, licking the grease off his lips.

"He's some stoner kid that I used to work with, but now there are only people who I hate working with at my job." I said, shaking my head. I finished one piece of chicken and took out a cup of mashed potatoes and gravy.

"How was your day, Tobes?" I asked semi-casually. My heart fluttered when I used that nickname again. Shit.

Toby looked up at me before shrugging.

"P-Pretty boring, honestly." Toby said, eating some of the crumbs off his thumb. "But I didn't accidentally break the toaster."

My eyebrow raised as I took a bite of my meal.

"How did you manage that?" I asked, glancing over at the toaster. He wasn't wrong; it did look a little rough.

"I was trying to make more of that toast with the apple stuff, and the thing nearly exploded!" Toby said, a faint chuckle in his voice.

I shook my head, feeling that this day kept getting weirder and weirder.

"It's fine; it's a fairly old toaster anyway." I said, leaning my elbows on my knees. My eyes trailed back to Toby, who was getting a biscuit from the bag. My expression became quizzical.

"What's this all about?" I asked, gesturing to the cotton patch that was on Toby's cheek.

Toby froze, feeling the bandage from pulling it off.

"I was just trying to get my scar to... heal quicker." He said, stuffing his face with the baked goods.

I tilted my head slightly.

"Sorry to break this to you, but I think it's already healed. You'd have to get surgery to make it look like it used to." I said, trying to convey an empathetic opinion.

Toby stared, presumably in thought, before shrugging and digging into the tub of chicken.

After having my fill of food, even though Toby was still eating, I stood up.

"I'm going to go take a shower," I said, dusting my hands on my pants and walking into the hallway. "Feel free to watch TV."

"O-kay," Toby mumbled, his mouth stuffed with chicken as he looked around for the remote.

I did my usual routine: get clean clothes, go to the bathroom, take off work clothes, but when I got to the showering part, I realized that there was something off. The bathroom had a strong scent of chemicals—more specifically, bleach. My nose scrunched, and I turned on the fan, hoping to get rid of the smell. I hopped in the shower and shampooed and conditioned my hair with separate washes—all-in-one is for losers.

When I got out and fired myself off with a towel, I got dressed and gathered my dirty clothes. I opened the door and peeked into the living room.

"Do you have anything you need washed?" I asked, wadding up my musty clothes.

Toby looked over from the TV, and there were chicken crumbs gathered at the corner of his mouth. He watched some game show intently. The brunette wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie—technically, my hoodie—shaking his head.

"No," he said simply, turning his head back to the screen like a little iPad kid.

I shifted my weight onto one leg.

"Are you sure? You haven't changed out of the hoodie in days. I can let you borrow another hoodie." I offered, tucking the ball of clothes under my arm.

His attention was directed back to me, but his eyes were reluctant to leave the TV. He spoke without looking directly at me.

"Y-You can wash this one, but I want another one to wear." Toby replied, reaching for another piece of chicken.

I rolled my eyes and went back to my room. On the way, I stopped in the laundry room and tossed in all my work clothes from the week. Then I went to the room and shuffled through my closet.

My face fell when my eyes landed on a certain hoodie. It was Maddie's hoodie. It was three sizes bigger than what she wears, so it would fit me. I took it off the rack, and I felt the fabric between my fingers.

It was a black jacket with pink and purple details. It looked like something straight out of 2013, which made me chuckle a bit. I figured that Toby would enjoy the hoodie more than I would.

When I brought the hoodie back, I hesitated, grabbing a napkin from the table.

"Wipe your grubby hands before you go handling the clean hoodie." I said in a slightly teasing voice.

Toby's eyes are trained on the TV like those of a caveman who just discovered fire. He took the napkin slowly, cleaning his hands off, and took the hoodie without looking.

I watched as Toby brought the hoodie to his nose, sniffing it. The action was almost instinctive. I thought it was a little odd, but I made zero effort to stop him. It made sense that he would do a small smell check since he used the thing like a damn comfort blanket.

Toby set the new hoodie in his lap before taking off the old one and handing it over. I could feel just how dirty it was, and it reeled of sweat and, more recently, fried chicken. Toby slipped the new hoodie over his figure, the cloth draping over him with ease over his skinny frame.

I heard him mumble a sheepish 'thank you' before he resumed eating. I smiled softly, taking the old hoodie and bringing it to the laundry room.

I was about to toss it in with the other clothes when I caught a whiff of something rotting. I almost gagged, but I held the hoodie an arm length away.

"How the hell were you wearing this...?" I mumbled to myself, looking at the hoodie. I was about to drop it in the washer, but then I smelled something worse than decay.

Blood.