Ahh creepthepasta brings back memories of middle school and sadness
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
TW: Toy play, overstimulation, vaginal
𐚁₊⊹
“There you go…”
Face down into the drool-soaked pillow, you’re huffing and whining through another orgasm.
Masky’s humming behind you, running his calloused hand over the softness of your ass and grabbing at the skin. Every freckle and dimple on your skin makes him hungry, a deep twinge in his chest he can barely fight.
“Wait-”
He pulls at the toy sunk so deep into your puffy cunt, lips so swollen and glistening even in the darkness of his room. Your limp hips dare to give out, legs widening and back arching further into the sheets.
He’s tugging it out, your groans growing louder as the silicone slides against your tight insides. Watching the way the bulbous head of it catches on your rim with a heavy gaze. Your thighs clench, back straining as you expect the toy to pop out, but Masky’s just pushing it right back in again.
He licks at his lips, screwing the toy deeper than it was before. You’re blubbering, palming and grabbing at the sheets when he angles his wrist to pump the toy slowly in and out of your sloppy cunt.
“If only you could see the way your greedy little cunt sucks it back in.”
Your neck jerks at the sound of his hand fiddling with his belt, the weight shifting behind you as you try to sit up. You’re met with a large hand between your shoulder blades pushing you back down, a quick jerk of his wrist knocking the toy against the swell of your cunt.
“Is this even enough for you? Need somethin’ thicker?”
It’s like a joke to him, his voice rough and teasing as he’s finally pulling the toy from your insides. You’re soaked in sweat and exhaustion, reeling for a moment but find it fleeting when you feel the little divot of his cock pressing against the sore ring of your entrance.
Your body goes limp again. His hands find their place on your hips as you feel that ring stretch, your eyes rolling back with every inch you feel swell deeper.
“Atta girl.”
927 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eyeless Jack General Headcannons
Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.
TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw! Mentions of gore
Words: 2.3k
Basic:
- The definition of nonchalant doesn’t convey his emotions very well at all so he lets his actions do the talking.
- Even though he may put on a front of being calculated and detailed, everything he does is purely instinctual or off the top of his head. He’s never made great plans or thought further on a problem than he had to, relying solely on time or for everything to work itself out. Ben calls it ‘thuggin it out’. He may seem all cool, calm, and collected- but really, he just doesn’t care.
- Drives a brown 1989 Ford F-250. Found it discarded on some old hunting grounds and spent the next 3 years learning about truck parts just to fix it up. It’s nothing pretty and the A/C doesn’t work half the time, but that doesn't stop the proxies from either stealing it for missions or Jeff cruising it to gas stations.
- Loves his alone time. If ‘Do Not Disturb’ was a living being.
- Incredible sense of smell, a blessing and a curse.
- Even though he doesn’t really feel emotionally tied to anyone or reliant on anyone's attention, he would never pass up a good conversation with Jeff or Toby. Finds their problems interesting (and funny).
- Even though he doesn’t have any eyes, he can still see. How? Who even knows? The demon would describe it as more of a viewing like he can detail everything that’s happening, but he can’t physically see it. Cryptic stuff even he’s too dumb to figure out.
- Despite everything, probably the most upkeep and clean member of the mansion. While eating organs and harvesting them can be messy, he doesn’t like the grime and prefers to clean off as soon as he can. The same goes for his clothes and room/office. Surprisingly tidy.
- Not as smart as he likes to present himself. Sure, he’s a medical student with more experience than anyone in a 50-mile radius, but that doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing all of the time. Whenever the proxies roll in with serious injuries, the demon shoots them full of antibiotics, cauterizes the wound, and prays it doesn’t get worse from there. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean he knows it’ll work 100% of the time.
- A silent panicker. Will absolutely tear his brain to shreds worrying or fighting with himself, but keep a stone look on his face the entire time. Gauging his emotions is like conversing with a brick wall.
- Dry humor. Absolutely will answer your long, emotional paragraph with a thumbs-up emoji.
- In some sick way, slightly prefers the life he’s living now. It may be grotesque and depressing, but his knowledge of the medical field and human bodies is infinitely more broad than it would’ve been. He quite enjoys the freedom he has now.
- Never happier than when winter is fizzling out and the first signs of spring show up. The warmth, the colors, the vibrancy coming back. He can’t get enough of it. Absolutely will get lost just studying the snow melting from the new flower beds.
- Locked in the basement of the mansion at all times. Only comes out to eat or on the rare occasion he’s assigned a mission. The only place he truly feels comfortable.
- Will get oddly emotional when light reflects on the lake just right or the fog settles on the ridge just perfectly. You’d never guess, but he’s a big poetic bum.
- Purrs. Like a cat. Ears flick around like one too.
- With music, he’s a big lyric listener. The song could sound absolutely terrible, but as long as he resonates with the words, will enjoy it anyway.
- Unorganized organization freak. Everything has a place, even if you don’t know where that place is.
- Seriously underestimates just how overtowering he is. He’s nowhere near Slender’s height, but the demon easily doubles in the average human’s vertical. When he was human he was taller, but never like this. He’s still getting used to it.
- Lanky but quick. Limbs and features are longer, but the muscle index makes up for it. He’s seriously fit, but everything is evenly distributed. Serious muscle definition in his arms and back, though. What he lacks in strength, he makes up in speed and agility.
- Enjoys Radiohead, Cigarettes After Sex, Paramore, and Three Days Grace. Will also never admit it, but really enjoy the Twilight soundtracks.
Dating Him/SFW:
- Gift-giving love language. Loves to make you things unexpectedly and watch the surprise on your face. Steals jewelry or clothing from his victims to gift to you.
- It takes a lot for the demon to even consider you a friend let alone a potential love interest. But you best believe once he’s decided he wants you, that’s it. You take precedent, anything and everything else in his life takes a step back and you become the focal point. Heaven help if you ever change your mind about him.
- “My pretty thing… my lovely little pet… all mine…”
- Physically can not get enough of your smell. Whether it be sweet or sour, whatever emotion you dwell in, this demon will bury his nose into the crook of your neck and waste away there. It’s intoxicating to him, like an emotional tie he’s bound to.
- Like to study you. Your movements, your voice, the way you react to certain stimuli. Everything about you and your personality just intrigues him to no end.
- Possessive in the, ‘If they look at you, I’ll kill them’ way, but also is sure enough in himself and you to know he doesn’t need to go that far. Would rather lock you away for only him to see, but respects you too much.
- Has a deep-rooted fear of hurting you, so any fight or disagreement turns him distant. He’ll come back eventually, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be comfortable enough to get all touchy-feely again just yet.
- A lot like Edward from Twilight, he wants to taste you the most. It’s seriously a bad habit to nip at your skin or get lost in your scent because he knows how easy it would be just to take a chunk out of you. Has to be very aware and cautious of himself.
- Even though it took a long time for him to be comfortable enough to take his mask off around you, he still gets wildly conscious about it whenever you’re around. Loves nothing more than when you’re caressing his face or kissing his skin because he knows it's genuine.
- For a cannibal, he’s an insanely good cook. Will only cook for you, however. He says it's out of love, but really he knows deep down he wants to control what you eat so you have good organ health. You best believe he’ll have you hitting those core diet needs.
- Doesn’t sleep often, but when he does it's for long periods. The problem is, he likes to completely swallow you with his body and wrap around you, keeping you there until he eventually wakes up. Really enjoys the body heat you provide. Lowkey a small spoon.
- Slouches to your height.
- His favorite time is after a long day, curling up in a big chair with a book and you in his lap. You cocoon in his arms as he leans back, a blanket draped over the two of you. He’s naturally cold-blooded so he would stay there forever if he could.
- “You smell so good, pet… So good…”
- Talks in short, mumbled sentences. The mansion residents started using you as a translator because he would only say more than 3 words at a time around you.
- Absolutely never cared about how he looked before you. You taught him decent clothing styles and now he rocks the ‘dark academia/soft boy’ aesthetic like a champ.
- Made you your own special corner in his lab just because he couldn’t deal with having to be away while working.
- An intense kisser. It’s never soft pecks but full-on mouth-consuming makeouts. He’s a hungry guy who can only be satisfied if he feels like he’s swallowed enough of your tongue and lips with his own. Your lips and chin are absolutely soaked with slobber afterward.
- Firm believer in carrying you. No matter where or how far, he likes to bridal-style haul you around or have you latch onto his back.
- “I could eat you up. Just kidding… yeah…”
- Goes ridiculously insane when he can see the chubbiness on your thighs or stomach. You sitting down or lying out, you best believe he is fighting every demon internally not to take a massive bite on your skin.
Dating Him/NSFW:
- Again, skin. No better than a man during the dark times when you flash just a little too much leg or abdomen. He’s on you in seconds and clawing your clothes off to see more.
- You will never leave an encounter without cum dripping out of you. Refuses to get off anywhere else but deep inside of one of your holes. Call it a breeding kink but his animalistic tendencies just won’t let him pull out. Grunting and panting against your nape as he slams inside as far as he can to keep you from squirming away
- “You can take it, I know you can… Need you full of me… All of me…”
- A greedy kisser. Grabbing your jaw and fucking his tongues into the warm wetness of your mouth, teasing to just push them further past the tightness of your throat. Even when you squirm and gag, he just pushes them deeper, testing your resolve.
- You reach your breaking point longggg before he does. A couple of orgasms deep and he hasn’t even put his cock in yet, just milking your body for all it’s worth. It may be because he has a high sex drive, but it’s mainly because he gets off best when you’re pliable and numb to his touch. It’s a domination thing.
- A pussy worshiper. Much like his adoration for any organ, he really appreciates all of his knowledge of the female anatomy and how good he is at eating you out. If he can, or if you can take it, he’ll press all three of his tongues deep inside and spread your plush walls to his content. Likes to swap between focusing on your cunt and your clit, but mainly both at once.
- Bite marks galore. Has to be careful with how much blood he draws, but you’ll never get by without at least one good bite mark on your shoulder. Likes to possessively mark you all over just for others to see. Same feeling with claw marks.
- There’s some cognitive switch in his brain that flips when he gets to a certain point of desperation, like after not seeing you for a long period or after a particularly difficult day. It’s like a starved creature hungry and desperate for anything. He’ll ravage your body and mind, fucking you both to pure exhaustion or until he physically can’t cum anymore.
- On that note, ruts. They’re seasonal, usually coming around the first two weeks of spring and fall. He can’t control when they show up, but once started, they usually last 3 to 4 days, each day getting less intense. Since it’s such an animalistic ordeal, he loses all restraint or moral compass on how to treat you. Bites, blood, wounds, and injury are all possible. They’re not intentional, but he physically cannot control his mental or physical, blinded completely by lust. Thank god his sperm isn’t compatible with human anatomy, because that’s the only place he’ll cum.
- “I’m sorry- sorry, pet- Just one more time- just one more- Fuck- I promise-”
- Both ankles wrapped in one claw. Two claws overlapping around your waist. Yeah…
- Starts slow, so achingly slow you want to rut your hips and get him deeper. He likes the feeling of entering you, of spreading your plush cunt around his cock and finding its home deep inside. He’ll get faster eventually, but for now, he just wants to drink up the sights and smells of your desperation. That first gasp gets him every time.
- Mating press or nothing else. If you want to try something new, he’ll happily oblige, but the only way he’s truly happy is if your legs are pushed back to your shoulders and his hips are slamming down into yours. He’ll take the occasional doggy style, but only if his teeth are latched on to the back of your neck and holding you docile.
- Could watch your face come undone all day. Loves to see your eyes roll when you come, or the sweat and tears dripping off your cheeks. The dark flush of your skin gets him so hungry he has to physically restrain himself.
- “You’re so gorgeous- so fuckin’ pretty- Ah- Look at me. C’mon, don’t get shy now…”
- One time, after a particularly messy organ harvest, he couldn’t wait to get to you. He was so livid, body practically shaking with excitement when he snuck into your room that he didn’t even have time to clean himself off. Blood (not yours) stained your sheets and skin, messy claws dragging across your stomach and chest to coat you in dark red, his tongues quick to shoot out and lap at the stuff. You, covered in blood and his mess, sent him spinning. That was the fastest he’s ever came.
- Growling, panting, snarling, huffing, chittering, teeth gnashing, LOUD ASF
- Has a size thing. Comparing your hand to his makes him so horny and eager to just pick you up and fuck you. Admires how small and easy you are to just throw around like a doll.
- Absolutely has had sick fantasies of fucking your organs like a fleshlight. He’d never tell you, but the thought of cutting a slit in your abdomen to push his cock into the tangle of intestines and muscles makes him drool. He can almost imagine how warm it would be.
- Gets a high when you squirt. Feels accomplished to be covered in your juices and having you completely ruined for anyone but him.
- “You can take it for me, yeah? Go ahead and make a mess… It’s alright…”
Thanks for reading!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Bullet in the Chamber
Proxies (Hoodie, Masky, Toby) x Gender Neutral Reader
Genre: Horror/Dark Angst
Summary: They want you to prove your love, to prove that you truly believe you’re meant to be together…with the help of Tim’s revolver, of course.
Content/Warnings: God, where do I start…obviously massive use of a gun, they play russian roulette, descriptions of gore, the proxies are super manipulative and emotionally abusive to reader, just a super obsessive not healthy relationship, this is NOT a feel good fic, it’s implied reader is being held captive
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
“We just wanna…play a little game with you, that’s all,” Tim drawls, his voice deep and lazy as he looks at you from behind his mask.
You’re nervous suddenly. Unbearably nervous. A cold chill runs throughout your body and makes your stomach convulse in an agonizing manner, and you don’t know if you’re going to vomit or pass out first. You don’t know why. He’s only just started speaking. Maybe it’s the way he drew out the last part of that sentence, or the way he immediately tried to soothe you before you’ve even fully understood what’s going on, or just that look in his eyes that says ‘I want to fucking gut you.’
There’s a reason you learned to keep your guard up around these three.
Suddenly the little circle you’re all sitting in on the floor feels much, much tighter than is comfortable, and it doesn’t help that Toby slides in closer, bumping your shoulder with his and flashing you a knowing smirk. What exactly he knows, though, is a horrific enigma to you.
Brian is on your other side, and although he doesn’t move, for a split second he glances at you out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to Tim. He’s managing to hold a straight face, but you can see the corners of his mouth just barely twitching as he internally fights to keep the emotion bubbling beneath the surface at bay.
There’s silence for a few moments, you’re not sure how long, but you don’t realize they’re waiting for you to speak until Toby nudges you.
“I, uh…what, um— what kind of game…?” You stammer, immediately regretting your question despite the curiosity that’s gnawing at you like a starving animal. You shudder when Toby giggles, clearly trying to stifle the sound as he bumps your shoulder again.
Tim thinks over his answer for a moment, scratching at his stubble in a manner that is far too casual. You think he’s going to speak, you’re expecting it, but he doesn’t say anything at first beyond a tired sounding sigh. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as it reaches behind him, and when it emerges once more it’s holding onto the grip of Tim’s revolver.
“There’s one bullet in the chamber.”
The world is spinning suddenly as you watch him place the weapon on the ground, and the sound of it sliding across the floor to you makes you sick. You bite back a gag as it slows to a stop in front of you. Your mouth hangs open uselessly as you struggle for words, desperate to pull out some sort of protest to what you know he wants but no sound comes.
They watch you grapple with yourself for a few moments before Brian places a hand on your knee. It’s supposed to be a comforting gesture, and normally it would be, but now it feels like a threat.
“Hey, don’t freak out so soon,” He says, lips curled into a subtle smirk, “We did this all the time when we were younger, it’s practically a rite of passage.”
Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell your fears. You’re shaking now, unable to wrap your mind around how they could be acting so nonchalant about putting your lives on the line like this.
“Listen,” Tim huffs, “I’m gonna be straight with ya, kid. We know how you’ve been feeling recently.”
That hardly narrows it down. You’ve been feeling a lot of things recently, none of it good and all of it confusing. That’s just the sort of conflict born from this kind of captivity. You shrug, unsure what to say.
“We know you w-wanna leave,” Toby clarifies, “I saw you staring out t-the window the other day…you just s-sat there for hours.”
That…made you feel a bit guilty. You shouldn’t, but you do. You could’ve at least made it less obvious.
“We trust you, hon,” Brian adds with a nod, “But we also think we could all use a little…what did you call it?”
He turns to Tim, who yawns before answering.
“…Group bonding.”
You shudder at the phrase. Disgusting.
“I…I don’t think this is the best way to…t-to do that,” You murmur, but your words hold no weight when you can’t even look them in the eyes. You’d never take the risk of making any sort of real fuss anyways.
Tim shrugs, seeming to consider your words.
“How would you do it, then?”
You…don’t have an answer for that. Why don’t you have an answer for that?
“I-I don’t know, I mean…can’t we just have awkward group sex like other, uh…groups, or whatever?” You ask, hesitating to call your dynamic any sort of relationship.
You make sure to tack on a nervous laugh at the end to make it seem lighthearted, but no one is amused. Toby giggles, but he’s laughing at you, and it’s painfully obvious.
“Don’t stress about it,” Tim says, “Just think of it as a…a test, you know?”
He sighs when you shake your head no.
“Ya know, like…a way of proving yourself. I mean, you trust us, right?”
You hesitate to answer that, but nod quickly when Tim narrows his eyes at you.
“Good. Well, think of it this way: if we all survive this, it’s a sign that we’re…meant to be together.”
“There has to be a better way—“ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Brian instantly takes to calming you.
He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His other hand comes up to your face, holding your head against his shoulder.
“Calm down, baby,” He says softly, “Don’t jump ship so fast. I told you, we’ve all done this before. We’ll even go first to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, alright?”
He’s not really giving you a choice.
You nod.
Maybe you’ll be able to just get this over with. If you sit here for much longer, you’re gonna be sick.
Toby reaches out to grab the gun first. That doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s never been one for forethought, or common sense in general. One day his hubris will get him killed, you think, but for once you’re hoping it won’t be today.
Not today.
Not here.
Not right in front of you.
Brian doesn’t let you go, continuing to hold you against him as Toby makes a show of spinning the chamber, letting it run until it stops on its own. He giggles with deranged amusement as he presses the end of the barrel to the bottom of his chin, looking back at Tim with a crooked grin.
There’s silent for a few moments, and you can’t look away from him until you follow his gaze to Tim, who is staring back with furrowed brows.
He’s still for a beat, and then he nods.
A signal.
Go.
You have a split second to process Toby preparing to pull the trigger before you bury your face in Brian’s hoodie and he, in turn, covers your face with his hand and squeezes you tight. It’s hardly comforting, but it’s better than nothing.
The soft click of the trigger seems to echo endlessly in the silence that follows.
Silence.
You quickly look back up and are immediately met with Toby’s hazel eyes looking back at you, their corners crinkled with the wide smile that’s spread across his pale face.
“Lookie there,” He drawls with a laugh, “This h-handsome face is still in tact.”
“Hardly the better outcome,” Tim mutters with a roll of his eyes.
This prompts Toby to slide the gun to him next, crossing his arms in feigned hurt.
“You go n-next then, wise guy. If you blow y-your brains out, at least we’ll know you h-had one.”
“Shut up,” Tim hisses back as he, too, brings his hand up to spin the chamber of the revolver. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t think they’d be so eager.
You’re gripping onto Brian’s hoodie so tightly your knuckles burn as you watch Tim press the barrel of the gun to his jaw, angling it upwards toward the dome of his skull.
He’s not nearly as giddy as Toby. He’s straight faced and silent, which isn’t odd, but something in his eyes is darker than you ever remember it being. You can only see his eyes with his mask on, yet you know his expression exactly. He’s staring right at you, and you’re imagining his brains dashed against the wall behind him, his face and any identifying features that once made him human reduced to a splatter of viscera that barely resembles the pieces of a person.
And when it’s all over, you think, you’ll surely be the one left to clean the mess of what used to be Tim. You’ll be left to scrub the red stains from the floorboards while the others continue on as if nothing has happened, and suddenly you can’t breathe.
The world stills as once more the trigger is pulled with a click.
Then relief hits you like a shockwave when that click is followed by silence.
Silence.
Your lungs fill faster than you were ready for, and you cough and sputter as your chest heaves with newfound breath. Brian rubs your shoulder gently, his other hand reaching out to grab the revolver as Tim slides it to him. The gun is exchanged without a word, only piercing eye contact as Brian lifts the weapon and spins the chamber, just as his companions had done before him.
It seems so natural for all of them. In the half a second it takes for Brian to lift the gun you wonder how many times they’ve done this, if you’re the first person to witness this ritual, and if not, what happened to those who came before you.
You don’t find any hope of getting answers, though, as you watch Brian press the barrel to the side of his head. He gives you a squeeze, and you can’t tell if he’s assuring you or saying goodbye just in case.
You still haven’t released his hoodie despite the throbbing pain in your fingers. You’re barely a thread away from tearing out a patch, but you can’t let go. You don’t look at him this time, unable to pull your head away from where it rests on his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re trying to crush him, but he only lets out a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair in response as if he’s amused by your terror. You’re a scared kid to him, a foolish little child running from an imaginary monster despite the very real threat.
You can hear his hoodie shifting as he adjusts the position of the gun. You can hear the slight scratching against his hair as the barrel moves against his head. You can hear him suck in a quick breath as he readies himself to pull the trigger.
You hear the click.
And then silence.
Silence.
You’ve never been so grateful for silence.
You nearly jump out of your skin when Toby claps and laughs loudly, practically howling with wildly misplaced celebration. He shakes you in his excitement, unable to get any intelligible words out through his giggling.
“Shhh,” Brian says with a finger to his lips, “We’re not done yet.”
He’s right. Goddamnit, he’s right. Not everyone has played yet. You were hoping that maybe just this once the higher being that trapped you in this hell would have this minuscule mercy on you, but you were met with a resounding no.
Brian places the gun on the floor in front of you. You can’t hear the sound of the metal gently knocking against the wood floor, but it makes you feel ice cold. Your world is rapidly going dark as you struggle to make yourself breathe.
You can feel the others’ eyes on you, three pairs of eyes staring right at you and boring a hole through your skull that’ll surely be identical to the one the bullet will leave. Maybe they’re imagining it, too.
It seems you’re not moving fast enough for them.
Toby reaches out and grabs your wrist a bit too roughly, forcefully placing your hand on the gun. You wince like you expect it to burn, but you’re left with only the cruel sensation of metal on your palm.
You weakly curl your fingers around the grip of the gun. It feels impossibly heavy as you lift it, trembling like a leaf in the wind. You force your other hand up, placing two fingers on the chamber of the revolver as you prepare to spin it.
You press the pads of your fingers against the metal, pushing down in an attempt to spin, but the gun slips from your shaking hands and clatters to the floor. You yelp in surprise and clamp your hands over your mouth, tears suddenly forming in your eyes but refusing to flow over.
Brian sighs. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just disappointed. He picks up the gun, and you think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to let you out, grant you some small reprieve and tell you you don’t have to do this.
Instead he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close, and his other hand presses the barrel of the gun right to your head.
“I’ll do it for you,” He says, as if it’s nothing serious. Like he’s just grabbing a box off a high shelf to be nice.
You feel like he’s strangling you. He might as well be. It would be a more humane death.
He’s going to kill you, you think, you’re going to die in this godforsaken house with these bastards, you’re going to die in isolation with no one to honor your body.
They’ve sentenced you to death.
You think back to that question of how many have come before you. Is this what they thought about, too? Is this the first, third or twentieth time someone like you has been here? How many unfortunate circumstances have stained the floorboards red over the years this cabin has stood?
It doesn’t matter.
None of that matters.
You’re going to be the next.
That’s all there is for you to be now.
A stain of red on the old wood floors will be your only legacy.
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you look up at Brian. His expression doesn’t move an inch. There’s no trace of the humor he always seems to have, not even a hint of feigned compassion or sympathy for your position. He’s not letting you out of this. None of them are.
You reach down and grab Brian’s hand where it rests in your hip, your nails digging into his knuckles. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even move beyond adjusting his finger to pull the trigger.
Each second seems to go on for an eternity, yet at the same time everything is moving far too fast. You can’t process what’s happening but you just want it over with, that’s your only choice.
He’s lifting his finger, preparing to bring it down on the trigger.
He’s pressing the barrel of the gun into your skin just a bit harder as he readies himself for whatever happens next.
This is it.
This is it.
This is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is…
The trigger clicks.
Then there’s silence.
…it.
Silence.
And then Toby erupts with animalistic, ecstatic laughter. It rings in your ears and echoes around your skull in an almost painful manner. You can’t stand the sound.
You’re alive.
The game is over.
All at once relief floods your body in such an overwhelming manner your vision goes dark. You can’t speak a word before you’ve gone limp in Brian’s arms, and he barely has time to put the revolver down and catch you. He holds you in his arms and makes a half hearted attempt to wake you, but when you don’t respond he looks up at Tim with a smirk.
“Out like a light.”
Tim can’t help but chuckle, and for a moment it’s even a full on laugh. This only encourages Toby, who’s flopped over onto his back as his body writhes with mirth.
Brian groans as he stands, pulling your body up with him. He throws you over his shoulder and nods to the others.
“I’m taking this one up stairs, gonna put ‘em to bed. I’m sure they’ll be whiny when they wake up, and you two better deal with it.”
Tim and Toby nod and wave him away. Toby’s finally stopped laughing enough to pull himself off the floor as Tim picks up the revolver. He shoves it into Toby’s chest, nearly pushing him over.
“Go put it up,” Tim orders.
“Or what?” Toby teases as he takes the gun, “You g-gonna get mad ‘cause I won’t clean up y-your toys?”
“Just do it,” Tim demands with a growl, clearly not amused. Toby rolls his eyes and huffs like a defiant child, but nods.
Tim starts to walk away, headed upstairs to his own room, but he pauses on the first step and turns to Toby.
“Oh, and don’t forget to load it,” He adds, “If it’s empty the next time I need it, I’m gonna kill you.”
819 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alright I'm in the mood for some more headcannons! And this time it's about kissing~ hehe
Slenderman:
•He's not really a 'romance' guy, tbh you already have slim chances at survival if you're human, but on the odd chance he does, for whatever reason, gets close with you, he'll take great care of you.
•Kisses with him will be rare, for once since what exactly would you even kiss? But if you're okay with that or him ripping open his skin to reveal his mouth to kiss that he'll do it on special occasions.
•He'll slowly cup your cheeks, giving you more than enough time to pull away or stop him if you so desire. If you don't, he'll pull you as close as possible and press you against his face. If you're okay with his ripped mouth ya will get some of the black blood on you, but he secretly likes seeing how it looks on your skin, smearing it to make it cover more of your beautifull face.
•He tastes like the smell of campfire and the refreshing scent of rain, with a faint taste of cinnamon. It'll make you yearn for more, but he doesn't show his love/affection for you very often, so it's more of a special treat whenever he does.
Splendorman:
•He's very shy and if you want this man to get the hint you will have to tell him. Pretty much any signs go over his head or he'll just take it as a platonic compliment.
•He gives kisses all the time once you're together, whenever he's proud of you or just happy you're willing to spend your time with him. So, you're gonna get little pecks all the time, usually on the cheek, forehead or on the nose (those are his favourite spots).
•Though for more intimate kind of kisses he'll still slip back to his more shy side, he rarely falls inlove with people so he's still not confident and very easily flustered.
•Most of the time when you kiss him he'll wrap his arms around you, so tight it almost hurts, but he just loves you so much and wants to keep you safe! And if you get on top of him while you're smooching him, he'll be putty underneath you and just an absolute blushing mess. A content blushing mess though.
•As one might expect, he tastes sweet, like a chocolate covered strawberry and a lot like energy drinks. You've really tried to convince him to lay off of them, but oh well habits am I right?
Trenderman:
•He's a great kisser in all honesty, even without lips it somehow feels just right. Yet he never really does it frequently. He's a hard worker, sometimes he's just so deep into a project you'd hardly see him at all for a few days, but he will always leave the door to his work room open for you to join him if you so wish.
•One of his favourites way of kissing his a upside down kiss, especially if you're sitting infront of him, leaning your head back and on top of his lap, whenever you do this he just wants to lean down and steal your breath away.
•No matter how often he kisses you, you'll still always be surprised how sweet he tastes, similar to bubblegum, but also faintly flowery, like a botanic garden you just entered. It's nice and it always manages to calm you down after a long stressfull day of your own, like your own little safe space, just in person.
Offenderman:
•Oh boy horny personified! As you might guess he likes kissing you a lot and in pretty much any place. Your shoulder, mouth, hips, hands or personal favourite, neck. He loves teasing you by it, especially if you're more on the shy side of things.
•He likes many different positions, but if you two are actually close he'll make sure to go more after things you're into, but he loves kissing you deeply on the lips, one hand holding your as the other either rests around your waists or teasing you by caressing your body as he explores your mouth with his tongue. He likes being deep inside of you in so many not appropriate ways.
•He's usually on top of you while kissing you, pressing you down against whatever it is you two are laying or sitting on. But occasionally he's more than down for you to take the lead, to sit on his lap and reach up for him or crawl on top of his torso to lean over him. Of course he's not gonna let you do all the work (he'd much rather always give than expect something and not receive) so he'll obviously still tease you until you can't take it anymore.
•Somehow his taste always makes you crave more, it's almost like a drug rushing through your blood. There things that nothing can wash away, so you'll always taste the faint remnants of smoke and blood, but there's always something to sweeten the deal, like dark chocolate making you want to just melt and he's fully aware of it.
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
What does all four proxies look like without their mask? in your style
"A LEGION OF THEIR OWN."
I didn't really have a change for Tim or Brian besides them rocking more older features. I think it's time they should be showing their ages. Why not be proud of their gruff n' stubble?
Toby's outfit is still changing, but in the future, yall will see it. Though I've decided to refer to him by his last name, Roger. It just feels more mature for Toby and with his dynamic with the rest of the crew... they wouldn't take him seriously otherwise.
699 notes
·
View notes
Text
Who I think the crp would target pt.1
Ticci Toby:
Personally, I feel he would mostly target abusive parents, but if he's out and just bored out of his mind, he'll kill whoever he stumbled across. When ut comes to abusive parents, I feel he would be a bit stalkerish, he'll find a parent or an adult, stalk them for a few days, see how they handle life and treat their families, if he sees any forms of abusive in any manner, he'll go for their ass, at night, in broad daylight, he doesn't give a fuck.
Ben Drowned:
He wouldn't really kill people, but instead, electronics; he would be one of those viruses that you'd find on social media. Once he gets ahold of your device, it'll go haywire to start. Suddenly it'll reset and seem like nothing happened, however Ben would 100% love to mess with the person, opening random apps, turning on/off any alarms they might have, call random people in the contact list, etc. He would end up causing the person to go insane— be it or not his intention— to the point they probably kill themselves.
Jeff The Killer
Like Kuchisake-onna, I feel Jeff would wear a mask of some sort, go up to people, and ask if they think he's pretty, not matter what they say, he'll carve a smile into their face anyways. He just likes to do it. If ya run into him, group or alone, you'll most likely be found dead later on anyways. He likes to kill everyone he runs into
Eyeless Jack
Steming from my headcanons for EJ — linked here — He would kill whoever he finds on the Appalachian trail. He would definitely stalk them throughout their hikes and find a moment where their guard is down and can make one swift motion. He prefers a clean and quick murder. He would probably use his voice to trick people into getting closer - like that of a skinwalker or wendigo - and get them that way. Usually leaving the trails unbothered and a way to keep people coming without much worry.
Clockwork
Doctors, or psychward doctors. Just anyone in the medical field; they're what pretty much why she's kinda what she is now, she holds some sort of grudge, even if it wasn't entirely their fault. She especially hates those that work at psych wards because patients usually end up worse than they were when first arrival. She wants them all to feel what she felt and just understand the suffering they inflict on many people.
Jane The Killer
I feel she wouldn't really kill anyone, she's mostly going after Jeff so she's trying to mostly keep people safe, if that makes sense? But if she were to kill, it would probably be security. As bad as she may feel for doing so, it tends to happen that they get in her way to find and properly locate Jeff.
Nina The Killer
She just does it for fun. She kills whoever she wants to. She does prefer killing other serial killers, though, usually gives her a bit of a challenge, and she's always up for that.
X-Virus
He doesn't have a preference, he'll see a passer by and spike their drink with some crazy concoction he's created and watch as they slowly start dying whilst taking notes of the effects of said poison.
Sally
She goes for pedophiles and rapists. She tries to help kids when it comes to situations that she had gone through while she was alive, having two forms - which I detail more in my hc, linked here - she l9ves to terrorize these people and make them for crazy, though she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, she prefers making them believe they're hallucinating, which she probably can do. Usually driving the individual to commit suicide in probably the worst ways possible, as she likes to cause more damage when there's a higher chance of them committing.
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sry I’m late, I was being held in a maximum security prison on a secluded island and they had no wifi.
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕪𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤: 𝔹𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 (+𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤)
Jeff the Killer - June 2nd, 2000 (Age: 24)
Homicidal Liu - December 21st, 1991 (Age: 33)
Sully - December 21st, 1991 (Age: 33, though he's seven minutes younger than his twin, Liu)
Randy - July 25th, 1990 (Age: 34)
Keith - September 23rd, 1991 (Age: 33)
Troy - July 27th, 1991 (Age: 33)
Jane - September 1st, 1993 (Age: 31)
Mary - May 10th, 1992 (Age: 30)
Ben Drowned - April 23rd, 1990, died April 23rd 2002 (Age: Permanently 12, 34 if he were still alive today)
Ticci Toby - April 28th, 1994 (Age: 30)
Masky/Tim - June 19th, 1988 (Age: 36)
Hoodie/Brian - April 18th, 1989 (Age: 35)
Kate the Chaser - June 25th, 1995 (Age: 29)
Laughing Jack - Unknown but he was created on Christmas Eve, 1800s (Age: 200+)
Eyeless Jack - November 13th, 1994, died May 20th, 2011 (Age: 17 physically, actually in his 30s)
Slenderman and his brothers - Honestly no one freaking knows. They been around since the Stone Age. (Ages: 2000+)
Sally - April 5th, 1958, died April 5th, 1966 (Age: Permanently 8, 66 if she were alive today)
Dr Smiley - October 20th, 1984 (Age: 40)
Nurse Ann - October 31st, 1983 (Age: 41)
Nina - February 2nd, 1997 (Age: 27)
Candy Pop - Unknown but is said to have been created sometime in the 1400s (Age: 500-600+)
Jason the Toymaker - November 15th, 1940, died August 2nd, 1959 (Age: 19 by the time of his death, 84 if he were alive today)
The Puppeteer - July 25th, 1974, died November 30th, 1994 (Age: Permanently 20, 50 if he were still alive today)
Clockwork - November 6th, 1996 (Age: 28)
Rouge - January 7th, 1990 (Age: 34)
Wilson - August 27th, 1988 (Age: 36)
Zalgo - Unknown. He's been around since the beginning of time. (Age: Millions of years old)
Nathan - October 29th, 1990 (Age: 34)
Bloody Painter - October 1st, 1992 (Age: 32)
Kagekao - December 29th, 1994 (Age: 30)
Laughing Jill - Unknown, possibly around the same time as Jack (Age: 200+)
Sadie - October 21st, 1996, died March 12th, 2014 (Age: Permanently 18, 28 if she were alive today)
Hobo Heart - August 31st, 1900s (Age: 100+)
Cat Hunter - January 16th, 1990 (Age: 34)
Chris the Revenant - December 28th, 1999 (Age: 25)
X-Virus - December 12th, 1996 (Age: 28)
Dollmaker - June 13th, 2001 (Age: 23)
Frankie the Undead - September 13th, 1924, died sometime in 1974 (Age: Permanently 50, 100 if he were still alive today)
Judge Angels - April 2nd, 1998 (Age: 26)
Lifeless Lucy - April 5th, 1987, died April 5th, 1997 (Age: Permanently 10, 37 if she were alive today)
Lost Silver - June 21st, 1992, died sometime in August 2004 (Age: Permanently 12, 32 if he were still alive)
Glitchy Red - Unknown, is said to have been created sometime in 1990-1994 during the early stages of Pokemon Red/Blue (Age: Likely somewhere in his his late 20s-early 30s)
Dr. Locklear - March 7th, 1634, died sometime in 1665 during the Great Plague (Age: 30 by the time of his death, 390 if he were still alive today)
Lulu - February 15th, 1999, died sometime in 2013 (Age: Permanently 14, 25 if she were still alive)
Killing Kate - October 29th, 1996 (Age: 28)
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Keep It Rolling
Summary: You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.
Characters: Hoodie x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Recording sex, bad blowjob, vaginal, threatening with a gun, pussy slapping, size difference, forcing, gagging, stretching, cream pie, size difference
Words: 3.9k
You spent your whole life filming everything.
It didn’t matter what. Eating breakfast, going to the store, hanging with friends, everything was caught on your little camcorder. You had an internet personality to keep up with and feeding your viewers your personal life was a hefty job. But you loved it.
So, of course, when your best friend messaged you about some supposedly haunted mental asylum twenty minutes off the interstate, you had to get it on camera.
The mid-autumn breeze blew through your hair as you and your friend packed your filming equipment into the back of your car, shutting the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. The asylum wasn’t even an hour away. But as you sped down the interstate, it was like the whole atmosphere had changed. The clouds were dark, the wind blew leaves from the trees, and this ominous darkness loomed around you.
“Where did these rain clouds come from?” Your friend mumbled, scrolling through her phone and checking the weather which didn’t offer many answers. Brushing it off, you turned down an overgrown dirt road off the highway and searched for the building. If it did start raining, there was no way you were getting your camera out of the car. And if there was no camera, there was no reason for you to go inside. But as you drove further, an overgrown sign dangled on the side of the path. ‘State Asylum for the Mentally Insane.’ Charming. It was much farther after that that you could see the run-down building come into view, boarded up windows and patches of wall missing. The decorations of the building had all but disintegrated, but the foundation and skeleton of the building still stood strong minus the crumbling sections of walls. You pulled the car as close to the end of the path as you could before the overgrown plants stopped your path. Shutting the engine off, you sat and stared at the rolling clouds swarming overhead, judging if this was a good idea or not. Obviously, you knew it wasn’t.
“Shit, whole things coming down. Wonder how much longer it's got till it completely crumbles.” Your friends laughed, hopping out of the car and opening the trunk, slinging a bag full of voice recorders over her shoulder. “I hope we don’t find out.” You joked back, sliding to the back and grabbing your camera and backpack full of batteries and hard drives. The wind howled through the building, an eerie whistling noise echoing off the decaying walls that were visible from the outside. If you couldn’t find anything haunted in there, at least you’d get some good aesthetic shots. “I say we make a lap through the building and see if we can find any particular room that feels right to set up in. Y’know, see if it feels haunted.” They laughed, slamming the trunk shut and sauntering towards the entrance, a large dark door with shattered lanterns on either side. You flipped open your camera lens, filming a good shot of your friend shoving the door open and peeking inside. You quickly followed behind, skipping up the steps and peeking inside yourself.
The entrance was dark, furniture and paintings rusted with age and tossed around on the ground. Leaves and cobwebs accented the space, giving just the right amount of old and creepy as you filmed you both entering. The wind howled through the halls as you scanned each room, discovering abandoned medical supplies, facility rooms, and rows and rows of medical beds. All of it was caught on film, the dim lighting giving just the perfect balance with the soft glow of your flashlight. This had to get you views.
When you and your friend finally decided on a spot, a recreation room fit with a stage and tables, you set your audio recorders on the tables, little blinking lights illuminating the room as you pointed the camera. Your friend pulled out their flashlight, laying it on the table and flicking it on. You angled the lens, catching their face in the glow as they began to ask questions, the eerie quietness echoing their voice. “If there are any spirits here who are wishing to make themselves known, please do so now.” Silence. Besides the settling of the old floorboards, there wasn’t a movement or sound to be made. They tried again. “We’re here to do nothing more than talk. Please don’t be afraid to communicate.” Nothing again. You were growing impatient, switching your camera between your friend and the dormant recording devices, no lights signaling activity was being captured. Your friend groaned, holding out for maybe just some noise but ultimately flipping off the flashlight and scooping the recording equipment back into their bag. “Maybe we just picked a bad room. I want to try something though.” You flipped your camera shut, breathing deep and smelling nothing but mould and concrete. “And?”
They shuffled the bag onto their shoulder, shining their flashlight around the disheveled room. “I saw on some ghost channel they split up and went to opposite ends of their hospital and got a lot of activity. Apparently, ghosts like it when you’re alone.” They smiled, shuffling back to the hallway. “Sounds good to me,” It didn’t, but who were you to say no to some good content? “Walk to opposite ends of the building and meet back in thirty minutes?” You both nodded, turning away from each other as you trudged your way to the farthest end of the asylum.
You felt like you had walked forever, stepping down two flights of stairs until you ended up in what you assumed to be the basement. Random trash and unorganized medical equipment littered the floor but it was charming in a way, like the place was a relic of what it used to be. The damp air surrounded you, every step echoing off the concrete walls and recording beautifully as you flipped on your camera. Cobwebs hung in every corner, more afraid of running into one than running into an actual ghost, but content was content.
You set your camera on the ground, shining your flashlight at your face as you crisscrossed in front of the lens. The hall was silent, the dark corners sending chills up your spine as you couldn’t see past where your flashlight glow went. You settled yourself, breathing deeply before calling into the darkness. “If there are any spirits here who would like to communicate, please make yourself known.” Silence. The rhythmic dripping of water from the pipes offered some relief as you listened closely, but ultimately heard nothing. You sighed, trying again. “I am only here to talk. Please make yourself known.” Nothing still. It was relieving, sort of, praying internally that you’d find nothing as you stared into the camera’s lens. Shaking your head, you gave it one final attempt before you’d decide to head back upstairs. “If any spirits wa-”
That was when you heard it. The loud thud echoed from down the dark hallway. Fear shot through you, quickly aiming your flashlight but seeing nothing that could have made the noise. “Hello..?” You called, picking your camera up and directing it the same way. There was no response. But as you went to stand, a very clear sound of someone clearing their throat echoed. You scrambled to your feet, realizing this wasn’t going to be paranormal, but some squatter you’d accidentally run up on. Your hands were shaking but relentlessly keeping the camera trained on the hall, staring intently for any sign of motion. Deciding not to press your luck further, you quietly stepped towards the stairs, barely reaching the railing before you saw it. The tall figure of a man resting his shoulder on the wall beside you and staring straight at you.
A scream bubbled in your throat, panic building before he was on you in a second, his large hands shoving his over your mouth and holding your head still. You gripped your equipment tightly, panicking desperately as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. That all stopped as soon as you felt the gunhead press against your ribs, nudging you to be compliant. “One word and I shoot.” He huffed, his deep voice reverberating against the walls. That’s when you could see him in the glow of your flashlight. He wore a ski mask that covered every feature of his face, but had a weird face drawn on. Tears rolled down your cheeks, realizing what a heap of trouble you were in. Whining, the man released your mouth but nudged the gun deeper into your rib, forcing you to the wall behind you. His gruff demeanor shakes you. “Explain yourself. Now.” He commanded, shoving the hilt further up. You panicked, quickly answering. “Uh- My f-friend and I came to see if we c- could find ghosts. I was making, uh, a video.” You cringed, holding the camera up as it was still rolling, capturing everything that had happened so far. The man jerked the camera out of your hand, examining it before tossing it to the floor, a whine escaping you as you watched it skid against the concrete. He leaned in close to your face, his breathing mumbled by the mask. “No ghosts, huh?” He towered over you, his large frame encapsulating you easily. You shook your head awkwardly, gulping as he pulled the gun from your side but quickly repositioned it under your chin, nudging it forcefully. “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m afraid this is as far as you’ll get.” He cocked the trigger, the noise sending a full-blown panic through you as you gripped his arm. “Please! Please- oh, God, I’ll do anything,” You huffed, tears pouring heavily. “Anything you want. Money, your dick sucked, food, anything!” You pleaded, face growing red as you shook with fear.
The man leaned back, pulling his finger off the trigger as he chuckled. “What was that second thing?” He smirked, resting his hand on his hip but not letting that gunhead leave your chin. You blushed roughly, your words betraying you as you just word-vomited something to save yourself. “I said anything.” You huffed, gritting your teeth as you felt the cold metal leave your skin, sighing deeply.
The man holstered his gun in the back of his jeans, sauntering over to your camera on the ground and scooping it up. He wiped it off, flipping the screen open before pointing it at you. You blushed, feeling awkward on the other side of the lens for once. He chuckled, stepping closer to you as he moved the camera to the side, staring at you directly. “Well?” He grinned, focusing his gaze back on the camera screen that captured your red face, the flash accentuating your features. His mask concealed his expression making you unsure if he was being serious or not, but you didn’t want to test those waters knowing full well he had a gun.
You awkwardly knelt in front of him, the concrete wall behind you cramping you. The truth was, you had no clue what you were doing. No boyfriends made their way around to lay you, so whatever you were about to pull out of your ass: your life literally depended on it.
You fiddled with his belt, sliding it open before nervously pulling the zipper of his jeans down. He wasn’t even half-hard in his boxers. You palmed at the bulge awkwardly, glancing up as the camera stared at you, his face peeking behind and watching you closely. Growing in your hand, you tucked your fingers under his boxers and tugged them down, his large cock barely bobbing out. It was awkward, but you took the length in your hands and slowly began to stroke, feeling it harden slowly. This was good. Nervousness pricked at your stomach as you licked at the tip. You slowly pressed the now hard length into your mouth, getting as deep as you could before pulling back. Slobber coated the length, gleaming in the flash of the camera. You leaned back in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and taking the rest of what you could in your mouth. It wasn’t good and you knew it. Your teeth constantly scraped against his length. Not to mention any time the tip passed your tongue you were gagging back off of it.
He was growing impatient, the half-assed attempt at head making his head hurt. You felt his hand slink up the back of your head and grip a handful of your hair, slowly guiding your head back onto his cock. “Open wide.” He commanded, holding the camera lower to get a good shot. You hung your jaw lower, gripping his jeans quickly as you felt him press into your mouth further than you knew you could take. You gagged, straining to pull your head back but he wouldn’t let you, he just kept pushing your head further. You slammed your eyes shut, tears pricking as you wrapped your lips around the thick cock deep in your mouth. He finally pulled your head back, giving you a second to breathe before you snapped his hips back into your mouth quickly. You whined, throat choking as he thrust your head on his cock quickly. He held your hair tightly as he forced himself down your throat, practically face-fucking you and not giving you a second to adjust.
“Damn, you got a mouth on you, huh?” He huffed, shoving the camera closer to your mouth wrapping around him tightly. You groaned, eyes rolling as you gagged each time his cock pressed against the back of your throat. It was loud and vulgar, the wet sounds echoing off the walls. He refused to let up though, groaning as he held your head back. “There you go. Keep that throat open, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, pressing your head flush against him but not pulling away. You began to panic, gripping at his jeans as you choked, no air reaching you. He chuckled, cock throbbing in your mouth at the sound of drool gurgling in your throat. He finally pulled you off his length, a loud gasp escaping you as air filled your lungs. He pulled your hair back making you stare at the camera, your flushed face and slobber-covered lips shining brightly against the flash. “God…” He let go of your hair, pumping his cock into his hand before kneeling at your level. “Yeah, I’m not done with you.” He grinned, gripping your legs pulling them out from under you and landing you on your back. He crawled over you, nudging himself between your legs as he tugged at your shirt until it bunched above your bra. He hooked his fingers under the cups, pushing them up and exposing your tits. Hands were on them in a second, massaging and pulling at the mounds.
Your whines echoed as he pinched your nipples, pulling them roughly and kneading the buds in between his fingers. “You’ve got such a nice body sweetheart. I can’t wait to ruin it.” He scaled the camera across your body and shot your curves well. It was incredibly embarrassing.
He pulled his hands off your nipples, leaning back to set the camera on the ground and angle it between your legs, getting a good shot of your crotch. If anything, you were impressed with his familiarity with a camera. But the other half of you cringed as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them off your legs, giving the camera a clear shot of your damp panties. His fingers rubbed at the spot, his thumb pressing roughly against your clit and making you squirm. You reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist. That wasn’t going to happen. He immediately grabbed your wrists in return, pinning your hands above your head and relishing the way your body arched in defiance. “Calm down, huh? Relax…” He grinned, sliding your panties off your hips with his right hand and sliding his fingers up your folds, collecting your arousal. Pressing your legs open, he spread your folds the same, the cold air making your clit twitch. “Such a pretty cunt…” He groaned, spreading your lips and spitting against your hole, making you squirm.
He rubbed his fingers against your entrance, circling the area as you arched your back, silently begging for him to slide them in. That was when you saw his hand reach back and quickly slap down on your cunt, a sharp sting hitting you. You gasped, his hand slapping you again before you could even say anything. His palm continued to connect with your cunt, rubbing the area roughly before bringing his hand back to slap down again. You were a whining mess, every sting and slap making you so much wetter. The squelching sounds your cunt made every time his palm reached was embarrassing, your moans mixing and creating an insanely lewd noise. “God! Please…” You whined, squeezing your knees closer and trapping his hand against your cunt. He chuckled, giving in and pressing his fingers into your soaked entrance, a loud squelch echoing. You groaned, his fingers reaching deeply inside of you and curling just the right way. When he began to pump his fingers, it was all you could do not to scream your pleasure. Your throbbing clit ached as his fingers curled against your walls, each curl causing them to clench down. His thick fingers worked you open, your squirming body being easily held down by his muscled arms. Your orgasm came incredibly fast, your walls tightening around his fingers as they stretched your entrance wide and became soaked with your ecstasy.
He pulled his fingers out sharply and brought them to the hem of his mask as he slid it up just above his nose. He licked his fingers of your arousal, smiling at you as he took them down to the knuckle. Your eyes frantically glanced at the camera lens, the flash blinding you as you begged the battery would magically die and none of this would be recorded. No luck. “Damn sweetheart, you think that cunt’s ready for me yet?” He grinned, pulling his mask back down and wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling you quickly to rest your thighs on top of his. His cock was twitching and angry, the head pulsing as he pumped it in his hands. He let it rest on your tummy. You glance down, head spinning as you realize just how big he is. “Oh, I’m gonna be in there.” He chuckled, releasing your wrists to scoop his hands under your hips and angle them up. He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance, leaning down to meet his face with your as he breathed deeply. “Try to not scream, yeah?”
Before you could question why, he slammed your hips down onto his length. The rough stretch and sting of him entering you so abruptly made you cry out, tears leaking down your cheeks. He didn’t wait. Either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t care. His hips snapped into you quickly, fingers digging into your bare hips as he forced your hips to connect with his. “Shit-” He was grunting with every thrust, heavily breathing behind the mask. Your moans and cries matched his, every nudge of his cock against your walls making your back arch and jaw hang open. It was dizzying. He was perched on his knees, holding your hips off the ground and fucking into you like some fleshlight.
Every tug at his hands and pull at his jacket went unnoticed as you clawed against him, trying your hardest to find some stability as your body was being rammed against. Your cunt throbbed with every squelch and slap, your walls constricting around the thick length invading inside of you. The camera caught it all, angled perfectly to see every inch of his cock sink into your cunt as he thrust quickly. It caught every lewd moan, every slap of skin. The tears were rolling down your cheeks, the sting and stretch of him mixing with the absolute pleasure slamming into you. “Fuck, so tight. Gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He huffed, repositioning for a split second before angling his hips up to ram into your g-spot. You screamed out, hand reaching for your clit as you rubbed in pace with his thrusts up into you.
That’s when he grabbed the camera, angling it down directly at your cunt as he sunk into you quickly. “Cum on my cock. Yeah, let me see it.” He moaned, shoving your hand out of the way to press his own fingers against your clit, rubbing quick and rough. You slapped your hands over your face, eyes rolling as you felt your orgasm rushing against you. The masked man was moaning louder, little whines escaping his lips as his own pace became sloppy. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.” He groaned. It sent you over, waves of pleasure crashing into you quickly as he refused to let off of your clit. You screamed out, arching your back against his fingers as he rubbed your orgasm out. Walls around his cock constricted, milking him as he held the camera close, the flash catching every drop of sweat and arousal that mixed on you. He bottomed out against you, moaning loudly as he released deep into your cunt.
The room went quiet apart from your panting. The camera caught it all, each pulse of his cock as he filled you full, your hands gripping tightly against his wrist as he held his thumb over your clit. He slowly pulled out, hissing as you felt the stretch of him. When his head popped out, he moved the camera down, catching every second as his seed leaked out of you. “Did so good sweetheart. Took me so good.” He huffed, sliding his fingers through your folds and spreading his release across your cunt, making you squirm. He pressed his fingers into your swallowed entrance, pressing his seed back in. When he pulled them out, he flipped the camera shut, turning the flash off and setting it back on the ground.
Finding your panties, he slid them back on you and relished as he watched them soak darker. He helped you button your pants back, pulling your shirt down and helping you stand. Handing you the camera, he laughed at your hazy expression, your heavy eyes and swollen cheeks evident of your fucked out cunt. “Thanks, sweetheart, now run along before I change my mind.” He huffed, turning back to the dark hallway and waving you off. “Good luck with your ghosts.” You nodded, frantically turning back to the steps and rushing up to the fresh air. It hadn’t been long, but as you listened closely and heard the sound of heavy rain, you trudged to the other side of the asylum and found your friend just as hopeless as you left them.
“Did you find anything? I had a whole lot of nothing.” They sighed, leading you to the entrance and out to the car as you tried to hide your equipment from the rain. “Nah. Nothing interesting.” You sighed, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off back down the dirt path.
When you eventually made it home, you sprinted to your laptop and shoved the SD card in, loading up the video. Your hand covered your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, arousal growing in your pants again as you felt the leak of the masked man’s seed against your folds.
The video played through, every squelch and moan sending shivers through you as your hand slid down between your legs, rubbing lazily as you rewatched his cock sink inside of you.
You’d have to go ghost hunting more often.
Comments are reblogs are appreciated!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Eyeless jack headcannons
Soft:
: before jack was sacrificed he actually used to play guitar (he still has his electric guitar in his closet) and sometimes would play for you in his room.
: jack is kind of grunge and so his listens to lots of Nirvana, three day grace, and other rock bands like that.
: he learnt how to play some of your faveorite songs on guitar so he could play them to you <3
: some times when yall are cuddling he would start humming to u
: he likes when u play with his hair<3
: sometimes Jack would js come up behind u and pick u up, take you over to the sofa/bed and js start kissing and cuddling with u and you know there is no point struggleing bc he will js hold u tighter.
: jack purrs sometimes when ur cuddling. You cannot cange my mind
Spicy (mdni)
: jack has like 3 toungs and he can reach places you didn't even know you had so he can turn you onto a moaning whiny mess in minutes
: this man is a god at dirty talk like he would whisper things like "thats my girl your taking it so good bunny~" or he could me mean and say things like "god yourso good at taking my fat cock so deep in your slutty pussy, what a wh0re" either way it will turn you into a shaking mess.
: he looooves leaving marks all over you where everyone can see hickys, bite marks you name it.
: pet names he would give you I think would be things like bunny, baby/babygirl, princess, love and (if ur into it) dirty things like slut/slutty girl, wh0re, my lil cock sleave, ect, +anything you would like to add.
: I think major kinks would be biting, maybe impact play, name-calling, oral (both giving and receaving) , belly bulge (bc lets admit this man has a big c0ck(I also dont know the name for it)), hair pulling (receaving and giving), (depending on ur opinion) cumming inside you.
: since he was a med student I think knows alot abt autonomy so he know right where to angle to get your g-spot
: he is amazing at after care too, once the two of you were done he would run. A hot bath for both of you. He would dry ou off and then cuddle you to sleep.
Thats all for now I may edit this and add some more but otherwise thats that put ur headcannons for the creeps in the comments! Remember to drink and eat water!!! <3
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
ROGERS FAMILY HEADCANONS
This post follows their life before the incident, during it and after.
CW: Childhood Abuse, Bullying, Death
TOBIAS ERIN ROGERS
From the ages eight to fifteen, Toby was homeschooled. He was removed from school in the first place due to bullies, but he came back in the fall of his Sophomore year.
Toby's skin is sunkissed — freckles speckled everywhere.
He bit off all his fingernails. To prevent him from biting his fingers more, Connie gave him gloves.
Toby liked riding his bike around the neighbourhood with his sister.
Toby was protective of Lyra. He took most of the hits from their father, even when Lyra told him not to.
His favourite season is the summer. He loves watermelons, oranges, and cold drinks (especially lemonade).
He is a foodie. He'll try anything he sees, even if it doesn't look that appetising. His favourite food is waffles — especially waffles with caramel syrup.
He's not a good artist in the slightest, but he enjoys doodling on himself with pens and markers.
Toby goes by "Ticci Toby" as a way to reclaim it from his bullies and also to poke fun at them. The kid you made fun of years ago is now a serial killer. Fun how that works.
When the car crash happened, he was only sixteen years old. Lyra's death caused Toby to become less restrained and he stopped allowing people to walk over him.
Toby doesn't regret killing his father, but he does regret leaving his mother.
He received his cheek gash from the car crash. He had already bitten his cheek to a certain extent and the crash worsened it.
Toby can drive, but he prefers not to during the winter.
LYRA MEREDITH ROGERS
Lyra was three years older than Toby. Before the incident happened, she was starting college as a Marketing major.
She was a prep/y2k girly. She had a good eye for fashion and designed her own clothes in her free time.
When they were younger, Lyra would dress up Toby and do his makeup.
In highschool, Lyra took choir. She also did volleyball. Lyra was pretty and popular; she was a gifted honours kid. Despite this, she frequently argued with her mother over trivial things.
At times, she snuck out to go to places with her friends, asking Toby to cover for her.
Her favourite fruit was peaches. She had peach scented lotions and perfumes.
Lyra took a bunch of polaroid pictures. There was a scrapbook in her room filled with pictures of her, her family, and her friends.
She made attempts to reason with her parents about getting a divorce, but that only grew tensions in the family. Lyra knew more than she let on in front of Toby.
When Lyra's annoyed, she likes to leave the house. Usually drives around the streets.
During the car crash, Lyra was driving very fast. She was heated at the moment, distressed because she had fought with her parents prior to driving. Toby told her to slow down, but she didn't listen.
If Lyra hadn't died, she would work at a business firm and sell her fashion designs as a side job.
CONNIE PAULA ROGERS
Connie is a loving, yet strict mom. All her life, she's wanted to protect her children.
Her relationship with Frank (her husband), was tense ever since Lyra was born.
Seeing too much of herself in Lyra, Connie was especially hard on her. Once Toby came around, she grew softer — especially because Frank started drinking more.
Connie loves cats. The family had a black cat named "Molly" before Connie, Toby, and Lyra agreed the cat would be safer away from Frank.
She likes iced tea — the homemade kinds only. Also, she's somewhat of an almond mom and eats very healthy.
She tries to make the most of what she has with her family. But due to her depression, she can be quite moody and act out without much thought. Connie does make up for it, unlike her husband.
Her last interaction with Lyra was a heated argument between Lyra, Connie and Frank over their future. Lyra stormed out of the house with Toby. Connie, enraged, didn't chase after them.
Connie feels guilty about it. She wishes she could have told both of them that she loved them before they left.
When Frank dies and Toby disappears, Connie lives alone.
She gets into therapy, adopts a few cats, and tries to tough it out. Connie has a support group — her co-worker friends and kind neighbours.
Connie misses her children everyday and regularly checks the news for any signs of Toby out there.
!!! my first headcanon post on here! i really wanted to speak on the rogers family because i haven't done anything with them yet. frank is not included because he's frank and i hate him.
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Back on that grind
Eyeless Jack headcannons
Goes by EJ to differentiate itself from Laughing Jack
He doesn’t age like a human, but in humans years he’s roughly mid twenties
Still not a human but if he was he’d be Hispanic trust
He/it pronouns, not really a specific gender identity. He doesn’t have time for that.
Doesn’t really have a set sexual identity either. He doesn’t have time for that.
It’s not a demon of many words. Probably goes full days without talking, but if needed he’ll speak.
Has a messenger bag full of medical supplies (ex surgical needles and thread, gauze, scalpel, etc)
Usually takes organs you can technically live without so you can continue to be a food source
Has a habit of staring at people for prolonged periods of time
He doesn’t actually live in the slender mansion, it just crashes there a lot
There’s a few different forms it has, but he mainly uses the form most in between human and demon (grey skin, a little too tall, multiple tongues, claws and sharp teeth)
Fairly serious about things, he gets a little annoyed at people joking around too much
Because of this he isn’t too much of a fan of most the people in the mansion
Or really anyone
EJ why do you stay here?
The clean, methodical, and somewhat cold way its kills commonly carried over into his personal life
It also tends to study people from afar
Very confusing relationship with Toby, it’s annoyed by him in a way, but he also quite enjoys his company, and being close to him.
He tends to do acts of service to show he cares for people (eg making food, cleaning someone’s room)
Doesn’t actually need to eat human food, only organs
Additionally, the way it eats is very close to a snake. He only needs to eat like once a month, but he eats a lot of organs that day
Unwillingly is the sort of doctor for the mansion
Has had to preform emergency surgery more than once
Would kick a child
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
working on the character customization menu and fixing sprites, ben looks so silly i'm crying
191 notes
·
View notes