#Creepypasta Fluff

[fattuccini-afraido]

Liu: GET BACK HERE, YOU DUMB FUCK!

Jeff: LET ME RUN AWAY FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

[4kingz]

ticci toby how he kisses you

Toby kisses you like the world’s ending in five minutes and you’re the last thing keeping him grounded. It’s not even that he’s trying to be hot about it—he’s just starving for you. Every time. Like he’s making up for years of missed affection in one breathless sitting.

He’ll grab your face like it’s the most important thing he’s ever touched. A little too fast. A little too tight. But the way his thumbs brush your jaw? Pure instinct. He needs you close—can’t stand even a second of space.

“J-Just—stay here,” he mumbles, lips brushing yours mid-sentence. “Don’t move yet. I’m n-not—done.”

He never is.

The kisses come in quick bursts, like he’s not sure how long he has before something takes you away. He’s got this frantic little laugh between each one, almost unhinged, like kissing you is the only time his brain shuts up. And if you try teasing him about it?

“You’re literally obsessed with me.”

You throw it out there half-teasing, half-smirking, expecting a flustered protest or maybe a sarcastic comeback. He pauses for like half a second, just long enough to be suspicious, then tilts his head and mumbles,

“...Yeah? S-so?” Like it's not even up for debate. Like it’s obvious.

That’s all the warning you get before he’s on you—hands in your hair, sliding under your shirt, gripping your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. He doesn’t kiss like he’s in love. He kisses like he’s desperate.

Eventually, he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes still blown wide, lips a little swollen.

“S-say it again.” “What?” “That I’m obsessed.” “…You are.” His lips are back on yours.

Chaotic, clingy, kiss-drunk mess. But he’s your mess.

[kyzuri]

jeff's just contemplating his decisions in his entire life. [COPE]

this is also liu's room [ hc : he's one of the least insane and cleanest people ] so why are the people he hated the most + two randoms in his room? he doesn't even know.

—— jeff just wanted emotional support, nina tried to be jeff's emotional support, toby? nah idk either, ben was there for the snacks. AT THE END OF THE DAY, they were there for gossips

[carn4g3]

hello! do you have any crumbs for eyeless jack x fem!proxy reader that got hurt on a mission? thank u!!

Accident Prone | Eyeless Jack x Fem Proxy Reader

Summary: Getting injured frequently isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, it lets you get closer to one mysterious medic.

TWs: Mentions of violence, injuries & medical equipment (IVs)

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I'm still trying to figure how I want to write Jack dialogue wise (in the Night Shift I tended to make him more reserved in the sort of shy way, but I'm not sure I like that characterization fully) so pls lmk what y'all think :)

General

I tend to follow the idea that Jack was sacrificed by a cult-like group to their demonic deity as a human vessel--leading to his appearance today. His involvement with the group was passive, at first. As a first year med student in a relatively small program, he didn't know many people and found it easy to befriend his surprisingly talkative lab partner. Much of the cult activity probably flew under Jack's radar until a cold, harsh blade was quite literally ripping through him.

That being said, Jack at least managed a bachelor's degree, probably on some sort of pre-med track, before his normal life came to an end. He holds a bit more technical knowledge than the average person, but he's by no means an expert.

Slender hardly sought out Jack for his medical prowess. It's practically a given that a pawn of the creature knows how to stop themself from dying. Proxies in particular are expected to know anything from basic first aid to treating bullet wounds. Admittedly, trying to stop yourself from bleeding out while in the depths of the woods with only the clothes on your back doesn't lead to many sanitary situations. Amongst other things, Jack does wonders in preventing infection, and Slender would be the last to object to that.

As a proxy, you don't get too many opportunities to interact with anyone who isn't also a proxy. The breaks you get between missions are often only a few days long at most, and there's no telling what you'll have to get done during that time as well.

Similarly, Jack doesn't spend much time with others, but that is much more a conscious choice of his. If you're not under his direct care, it's pretty hard to properly pin his schedule or whereabouts. So, there's really only one way to become close to the demon given: get injured.

You had been a proxy for a few years now. Still considered the newest in technical terms, you were far from that initial probationary-training period. Despite that, your almost permanent residency in Jack's infirmary was as strong as ever-- only rivaled by Toby.

An almost sheepish grin had spread over your face as Jack just considered you silently. Like clock-work, you would appear at his door at the beginning of the week with some sort of injury to be patched or checked. This time, you had all but dragged yourself to Jack's cabin, ankle throbbing from inside your hunting boot. "What happened this time?" If you could see his face, you're sure he would be raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Target tried to break my ankle..." You replied. "Really?" He asked, something like worry in his tone. "No," You admitted, "Just fell..." Jack sighed, less than surprised by the reality of your situation, "Alright, come in."

Your first few visits with the demon medic were certainly a bit intimidating. Seeing his inhuman features for the first time was jarring, and it didn't help that Tim would stand disapprovingly at your side. Too focused on disappointing your mentor or Slender itself, you hadn't really thought to talk to Jack more than a brief explanation of your injury.

As your visits became unaccompanied, you took a bit more care in the person treating your frequent injuries. Letting random topics fall from your lips on a whim, it seemed to work-- occasionally eliciting a chuckle or even a brief response. Now, he seemed a bit more talkative during your visits. Checking if he wrapped any bandages too tight or pausing when you hissed in pain, you always saw Jack as quite the skilled medic.

"If it hurts that bad, just go get pain meds from Jack." You huffed in annoyance. No matter how many times you found yourself having to work with Jeff, you managed to be shocked by his sheer skill at being an asshole each and every time. Despite the gauze pad on your cheek, which hardly covered the bruise that spread out underneath it, the other killer had been whining on and on about his own recent injury. You certainly weren't apathetic towards the stab wound that had taken him out for a week, but was it really still that relevant almost a month later? "Go to EJ?" Jeff barked in disbelief, "That dick would just call me a waste of resources." "Not if you were actually in pain, now get back to work." You scoffed at the exaggeration. "Are we talking about the same guy? He acts like we're running on scraps or some shit." He disregarded your words, as was expected. While you were intent to ignore him this time, Jeff clearly had other plans, " No seriously, does he just give you shit whenever you ask for it?" "Well, yeah. "Maybe if you weren't such a bitch he'd do the same for you." You looked at him in confusion. "Watch it," He snapped, "What'd you do to get him do that, suck his dick or--" "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll give you a real reason to be bitching about pain meds." You threatened, raising your weapon to emphasize it. "Holy shit, no need to get your panties in a twist." Jeff rolled his eyes but quieted down anyway. After a few moments, he piped up once more, "Ask around sometime. You'll see what I mean."

Imagine

Sleep pulled heavy at your eyelids as they begrudgingly drew open. Even in your haze, you realized the room around you was both familiar and unfamiliar all the same; how poetic. You knew Jack's cabin well, at this point. It was pretty bare-- any decorations being whatever the last tenant "left" around. Each room looked essentially the same, and your suspicion was only confirmed when you took note of the nose burning cleaning chemicals in the air.

You weren't left pondering in the silence for very long, though. As soon as you registered your location, the devil himself stepped in. Maneuvering with ease, his boots seemed to strategically miss the parts of the floor that creaked the loudest. He shut the door quietly, one hand on the door handle, and the other holding some sort of item. Your eyes hadn't fully adjusted to the dark enough to discern it.

"You're awake." Jack spoke without you having to say a word.

He'd briefly explained his enhanced senses to you before, something about breathing being especially amplified to his ears, "If I wasn't you would look real stupid right now."

"To who?" He asked, "The dust?"

"Good one." Despite the sarcasm, you appreciated his dry humor.

Moving closer, he practically towered over the short bed frame. From this angle and lighting, you could see how those dark, soulless eyes could strike fear in the average person. Although, you couldn't quite imagine the role of a victim for long given the plate of food grasped in his left and-- as opposed to a scalpel. With his free hand, he swiftly moved to turn on the small table-lamp beside you. The yellow glow was dim compared to a normal light source, but it still stung your unadjusted eyes.

"If you're hungry," He explained as he placed the plate down, "you're fine to eat solids."

"I'd hope so," You muttered, "I don't think I've lost that many teeth."

His outward appearance didn't change, but you could tell he was amused by the comment, "The healthy amount would be zero."

Oh right, you weren't just in here for fun. Shuffling to the other side of the bed, Jack gently inspected the IV solution hanging up just beside you. Seeming satisfied with his gentle prodding, he regarded you once more.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Fine," You shrugged, "You're a miracle worker like always."

Jack scoffed gently, "The medicine is, not me."

You rolled your eyes at his response, but he wasn't keen on letting you get in the final word on that matter, "What happened?"

Hearing the question, you took a pause. Despite the aforementioned pain-meds coursing through your system, you could still feel a dull throb around your calf. It didn't take much for missions to go wrong. Just a split second too long and suddenly you were in the midst of a police chase, K-9 units released along your path like you were some sort of heathen like Jeff.

"Dogs." You answered bitterly.

Averting your gaze to the plate of food beside you, you noted the small wafts of steam still leaving the dish, "Did you just make this?"

"Yes," Jack let you maintain the subject change, "Why?"

"Were you just going to leave it there if I wasn't awake? Seems like a pretty lousy gift" You noted.

"I could tell you were waking up." He attempted to defend himself.

"You can tell through the walls?" You asked skeptically.

"I had to check your vitals." Jack explained once more.

"Why didn't you check the IV then?" A smirk edged its way onto your face as you noticed you had caught him in his lie.

Jack would never admit to that, though, "Eat the food if you want it. I have other things to do."

Stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets, he headed quickly for the door. He never left quicker than when you managed to fluster him, a fact you tended to tease him for whenever the opportunity would arise.

"Sure thing, Jack." You called after him sarcastically.

"Don't let it get to your head," Jack bit back, "Sherlock."

[haunteddollbaby]

Hello!! Can I request a ticci toby headcanon where he's Inlove with the reader but thought the reader is Inlove with Helen but it turns out Helen is his sibling... sorry if this ask is weird or something:') but I do hope you have a good day/night😁😁✨✨💮

misunderstanding

?

• see tobi didnt want to jump to conclusions,, but...

• why are you so close to the bloody painter??? are you two dating or something?????

• tobi's had a crush on you for the longest time. that's not a secret to anyone but you.

• mans is so obvious idk how you havent noticed

• after a while of crushing,, tobi decides he has to confess and get it over with.

• he wanted to get you alone to confess,, otherwise he'd be extremely embarrassed.

• but everytime he goes to talk to you,, you're with painter.

• SIGH

• helen knows tobi has a crush on you.

• he also knows tobi wants to get you alone.

• so he made it his personal mission to constantly be around you,, leaving no chance for him to confess <3.

• sly ass

• protective brother things ig

• another thing,, tobi has never seen painter without his mask,, so he doesnt realize you both look similar.

• and you two act more like best friends than siblings.

• tobi has no clue you two are brother and sister,, so he comes to the conclusion that

• you two are dating...

• fuck.

• tobi's devasted for like 4 days

• mans is sliding down the wall,, crying into a jumbo lion plushy.

• when he finally comes out of his room,, he goes to rant to liu.

• who immediately busts out laughing, wheezing and everything.

• tobi's just like 🤨😑

• liu,, after a moment of contemplation,, decides to tell tobi that youre related to painter.

• love liu being a good friend for once /j

• tobi immediately goes from 🤨😑 to 😯🤦.

• tobi and liu make a plan for his long awaited confession.

• /j

• all they really said was that liu will distract painter while tobi gets you in a secluded place to confess

• low braincell plan for low braincell people.

• everything goes according to plan,, and you end up alone with tobi on 2 tire swings in the woods by slender mansion

• here's how it went:

• tobi: so y/...n twitch ive uhm h... had a cr... twitch crush on twitch you for a really long time and twitch i was wondering if you w... wanted to twitch go out with m... me?

• y/n: really??? of course i'd love to go out with you tobi! i've been waiting for you to ask for the longest!

• *end of dialogue*

• tobi inwardly face palms at how long this took him,,

• but it's whatever now! he has a date with you saturday night <3.

[rainrot4me]

Sick Days

Summary: The Creepypasta guys are feeling a little under the weather. You, their lovely partner, spend the day taking care of them (whether they like it or not).

Characters: {Separate} Jeff the Killer x Reader, Ticci Toby x Reader, Masky x Reader

TW: Very domestic and fluffy, slight bickering

Words: 6.7k

A/N: Sorry for the delay! More Christmas-themed works coming out shortly!

Seven days of pure snowfall and ice.

It had snowed a lot—a thick blanket of white across the forest deep enough to get your boots stuck in. Winter always seemed to roll around the Slenderwoods a little later in the year, but when it did, it was brutal. And, with so much pristine white covering the ground, the mansion was on full display in contrast to the grayed-out trees. 

Slenderman gave his orders. This meant longer missions, longer days in the frigid temperatures, and even longer nights recovering. You would think natural-born killers would have some inkling of instinct to keep themselves alive, but when they all returned practically half-dead… 

Thick jackets and worn shoes piled by the door, somehow still defrosting and leaving obnoxious puddles of water wherever you stepped. Dusty counters were littered with piles of nasty food and dishes, laundry untouched (that wasn’t unusual anyway), and a serious lack of arguing or hysterical fighting between the walls (that was unusual). It seems the weather hadn’t only brought down health, but moods too.

So, when things turn bad in the mansion, where do they end up? 

Your front door.

Jeff the Killer ▸

Jeff knocked nonstop until you opened your door, a confused look as to what in the world the killer could need. It wasn’t unusual for Jeff to stop by unannounced; he had made himself at home in your house a long time ago, but it was unusual for him to show up in the middle of the afternoon (broad daylight and all). 

“Jeffrey? Are you alright?” Glancing behind him, you could see where his boots made imprints on the fresh snow covering your sidewalk, dusty snowflakes melting in his dark hair. 

But, finally glancing up to meet his gaze, you could see it.

He looked terrible. More so than usual. Skin raw-red from the cold winds whipping at him, hair tangled, and head pounding in time with his too-loud heartbeat. You knew about the missions, and you knew what being in the cold for too long could do, you just didn’t know someone like Jeff could even get sick.

Stepping aside, Jeff trailed into your home, shoulders hunched so low you thought he was trying to fall over. All he gave you were hoarse grunts and shaky nods as you helped him strip his heavy clothes, shaking the snow from the sleeves onto the doormat outside. By the time you turned around, Jeff was already halfway down the hallway towards your bedroom.

The killer was so exhausted he didn’t even get his muddy boots off before he was face down into the pillows and oblivious to the world. 

Given the grueling retreat he had just returned from, this would have been a reasonable response. But, as his partner, you knew better than most: Jeff never sleeps, especially when he has a fresh mission to brag about. It only took his ragged coughing and blatant pitiful state to figure out you were going to have to help him.

The can of chicken noodle soup you poured into a bowl, then to the microwave, came out steaming hot. You blew on the contents; the smell was nice as you reached for a spoon, and you made a mental note that you would also need to clean his dirty clothes still caked in mud and (hopefully not his) blood. A small towel under the bowl, and you were making your way down the hall. 

Jeff hadn’t even bothered to shut the door; his limp body spread across your mattress like a corpse. He covered his head with a pillow, gripping the fabric and muffling the sputtering snores laced with evident sickness. You had only left him alone to make the soup for a couple of minutes, but that seemed to be enough to knock him out.

Jeff never slept, only when his body really needed it. But right now, his body also really, really needed something in its stomach besides mucus. You set the bowl on your nightstand before slowly kneeling on the bed. What do they say about waking a beast? You couldn’t remember. 

You cringed, teeth gritted as you gently placed your flat hand onto his back. His skin was burning, heat practically radiating from him as you easily rubbed up and down his spine. He didn’t even budge, the only sign of life being the gentle rising and falling of his back as he snored into the fabric of his pillows. You ran your hand higher, fingers rubbing across his shoulders and dipping to the arch of his shoulder blades until you felt his arms slowly shift.

His breathing faltered, consciousness rolling back into him as you shifted, letting one leg dangle off the bed as you sat beside him.

“Mhhmn…” He groaned, stiffly turning his face towards you and glaring through bloodshot eyes. You nearly choked out a laugh, scanning his flushed face and horrible eye bags, appearing even more dead than he normally did. It took the killer a minute to register what was happening, his messy bangs sticking to his forehead and matting wildly; it was evident he could’ve slept for the rest of the day and then some. 

But it was only 3 pm, and the sun shining through his curtains was made even worse by the reflection of the snow. He needed to eat; there was no telling how much he had worn himself down this past week. Jeff was never very good at self-preservation, especially when you had become a net to fall back on.

“Hey man… You wanna try and eat somethin’?” You tried to keep your voice low, the killer rolling onto his back and rubbing his hands over his face. He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and slowly blinking at the ceiling. 

He nodded.

Reaching for the still-steaming bowl, you cupped the contents in your hands, shifting further onto the bed. Jeff shifted upwards, slowly but surely. It was odd. You had witnessed this man jump fencelines and tackle men double his size, but give him a fever and a headache that can’t be numbed out with alcohol, and suddenly he’s defenseless. You could’ve laughed, taunted him like he often did when you weren’t feeling hot, say something to get his gears going… 

But he just looked so… pitiful. 

One hand cupped under the bowl, you reached the other out, delivering soft touches with the back of your hand on his forehead. Jeff watched through tired eyes, blinking slowly when your fingers brushed his sweat-damp bangs out of his face, leaning closer to your every touch.

Always loud-mouthed and quick to anger, but right now, he was just calm. His body refused to move as quickly as he wanted it to, and his head was far too foggy with nausea to even consider pushing your helpful hand away. So, he just accepted it. Reluctantly, in his mind, but accepted it nonetheless.

“You don’t look so hot. What happened out there?” You paced the words slowly, taking the spoon in your hand and collecting a bit of the soup before bringing it to his pale lips. Jeff closed his eyes when he took the spoonful in his mouth, drinking the warm broth before letting you bring it back to the bowl for another. 

“Forgot to bring extra clothes… Hada’ reuse the same wet shit every day…” His voice was so hoarse, too. He cleared his throat, letting you spoon him another drink of the soup before leaning his head back on the headboard. He sounded like he had been sucking down nothing but cold air, throat raw and scratchy with the sinus infection he was harboring. 

A warm shower? Or maybe bringing him to sit in front of the fireplace you had crackling in the living room? You weren’t sure what he needed, but you knew he needed to sweat out this fever before it became a real problem. He reached for the bowl, cupping the towel underneath to set it in his lap before continuing to fish spoonfuls. The warmth of the soup probably did wonders for his sore throat.

You went to stand, pressing off of the bed before a rough hand wrapped around your wrist. Glancing down, Jeff was tugging you back towards him, knotted brows giving a silent question as to why you were leaving him. You smiled, kneeling back on the mattress to place a quick kiss on his way-too-warm forehead. “I’m starting you a bath, alright? Finish your soup.”

Another quick kiss and he was letting your wrist go, satisfied with your answer. The silence was awkward, but vulnerable and quiet. Jeff had no choice but to let you care for him; something about that made your heart so full.

Roaming to the bathroom, you pushed the curtain to the tub back and flipped the faucet all the way hot. Water filled slowly as you rummaged through the cabinet behind your sink mirror, reading various drugstore medicines and cough syrups before shaking a handful of sinus and head cold pills into your hand. 

You heard the gentle patter of bare feet stepping onto the tile of the bathroom just in time to turn off the running water, the tub steaming with scalding water. Arms wrapped around your middle gently as you shut the cabinet, Jeff’s nose burying into the crook of your neck as he fell limp against your back.

“Sorry…” He mumbled, his face against your skin as he breathed deep, taking in your smell. You smiled, reaching back to brush his hair back before playing yet another kiss on his warm forehead. “Hush. You need to get better, and that mansion is no place to relax. Don’t worry about it.” Despite reassuring him, Jeff still held a defeated look.

Dropping the medicine onto your sink counter, you turned to help him take off his shirt, his hands doing their best to hold onto your arms the entire time. Clingy. 

“I got it.” He huffed, tossing his shirt to the ground.

“I know you do.” You smiled up at him. You undid his belt anyway, undressing him the rest of the way with little protest. There was no flirtatious comment, no sly touches, just a weak, sick boy who wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. It was sweet.

Jeff stepped into the bath, and you left him to get a cup of water. He drank the pills down, skin blotching red with the heat of the water, but at least he looked more relaxed. He was so lengthy, he had to bend his knees to fit comfortably, which you laughed at.

You knelt beside the tub, using that same cup to collect water and rinse his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy strands, his quiet groans making you smile as you poured a small dab of shampoo onto the palm of your hand. Tired eyes watched you carefully when you began to scrub his head, lathering the shampoo between the strands and massaging his scalp. He was falling apart underneath you, soapy bubbles drifting into the water while you washed him off. 

His hands cupped your own, kissing your wrists. He was being so gentle, it almost gave you whiplash. There was no off comment about you catering to him, or being a jerk just for the hell of it; he was being oddly sweet. Maybe his being sick wasn’t so bad.

Until you zoned back into his coughing fit, strained coughs that looked like they physically hurt. You rinsed his hair, careful not to get the soapy water into the gashes on his face as he settled down.

You wiped the water from his face, his clammy skin wet under your hands as you went to stand. Jeff leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall of the tub while you collected his clothes, letting him know you’d be right back.

You needed to do laundry anyway, so grabbing the rest of the killer’s dirty clothing and tossing them into your load was easy enough. They reeked of dirt and outside, splotches of dried blood staining the sleeves of his hoodie. You didn’t want to know about the mission; you didn’t want to know what in the hell caused these stains, but you were sure he’d tell you sometime anyway.

Starting the machine, you shuffled back to your room, rummaging through your drawers for something that the killer could wear. You ended up on a t-shirt that was baggy on you but would fit him perfectly, a pair of boxers he left the last time he was here and sweatpants that would be good enough until his clothes were dry.

You stepped back into the bathroom, clothes in hand, and Jeff turned to look up at you. He had already cleaned himself off, water slowly draining from the tub as you helped him climb out. “Feel better?”

He nodded, reaching for the towels you had hanging off the edge of the tub and drying himself off. You set the clothes down, hands reaching to dry off his hair as he dressed himself. 

You knew it had to feel so much better to be in clean clothes, let alone something that wasn’t jeans and a hoodie riddled with filth. Jeff seemed content enough, but more than anything, he looked tired. Exhausted.

“Alright, time for bed.” The sun was just starting to set outside your window, thick orange light flooding through the curtains as Jeff followed you back into the bedroom. You wouldn’t be going to sleep for some time, but you were sure the killer would be out in minutes.

Pulling back the sheets of your bed, Jeff climbed in, body nearly giving out as soon as his weak body got under the warm covers. “I’ll let you rest, tell me if you need anythin-”

Jeff didn’t give you the chance, barely getting a foot away from the bed before he was dragging you in too. You smiled, his arms wrapping around your waist and throwing the covers over the two of you. “Aw man, you’re gonna get me sick-”

You couldn’t help but smile as Jeff delivered sickly sweet kisses across your cheeks, lying you both down as his arms caged you in, your head falling onto his shoulder. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be sick together then, baby.” You knew a sly smile would break out of him sooner or later.

You both relaxed into each other, wrapping the covers tight as the sun set slowly against the pretty snow. The fireplace still crackled in your living room, the whole house warm compared to the brutal cold Jeff had been forced into days before. 

Running your hands through his now-clean hair, Jeff groaned, practically purring when his eyes began to close, tight grip around your back faltering slightly as you realized the sinus meds were finally kicking in, that dazed look behind his expression. As if he wasn’t tired enough, this would have him knocked for the whole next day.

It didn’t matter to you, you’d be there tomorrow to cater to him too, taking care of the killer who rarely ever let himself go like this. 

Planting one last kiss on his jaw, you felt his chest slowly rise and fall, gentle snores dragging out underneath you. Leaning back, you grabbed the remote to your TV off the nightstand, turning some show you needed to catch up on with low volume. You realized you needed to relax too, the winter season having you run a mile a minute, so this would be a good excuse to worry about something other than your crazy life.

With one final tug on the back of your shirt, you let your own eyes close, the sun finally set as a pretty blanket of dark sky finally shown through the window.

“G’night [Y/N]…”

-

Jeff was there by your side when you became sick the week after, a terrible fever that wouldn't break no matter how many baths or rags he placed on your forehead.

He felt bad, sure, but he felt even better that he got to make fun of your terribly red face and nasty cough that he didn’t have to deal with anymore.

Even sick, you somehow managed to win every argument or put the killer back in his place. You made him repay his stupidness with healthy fast-food runs and kisses. He quickly learned to keep his mouth shut. 

In sickness and in health, you guess.

Ticci Toby ▸

Technically, Toby couldn’t feel the pain of being sick.

He never got the sting of a sore throat, or the ache behind your ears when you sneezed too much, or even the pounding head and body aches that kept people from getting up. No, he bragged about never being defeated by strep throat or the flu.

But what he did feel was the pressure, and the fatigue, and the awful way your stomach just refused to hold down any solids.

So, when it got so bad he couldn’t shove it aside anymore to complete another mission, he found himself knocking on your door.

And he was not happy about it.

“Toby, you have got to lie down.” You huffed, his limp arms in your hands as you tried and failed to drag him towards your bedroom. He was acting as if he couldn’t walk, feet glued to their respective spots in your kitchen. The brunette always played a little childish, but right now he was just being plain juvenile.

“Nah. I just swung by to gra- grab some food, there’s nothing good at th- the mansion.” Even as you held him, the boy still browsed your cabinets and pantry for snacks. You would have been more than happy to offer, but Toby had already eaten a bowl of your chili leftovers, two bags of chips, and was going for pastries next. It was like being sick turned him into a human vacuum.

“I know, but you’re freezing, hun. Your face is so red it looks like you’re going to explode. You need to get under some covers.” Toby could blame that on lying face-down in the snow for an hour, completely oblivious to the pin-pricking sharpness of the cold on his cheeks, or the frostbite that was forming at the edge of his nose. He never felt a thing, completely lost in the weightless blanket of powder underneath him. He would’ve stayed there another hour or two if Tim hadn’t jerked him up and yelled at him for being an idiot.

But now he was here, sick as a dog and getting harassed by his partner who was just trying to help. Tim was sick at the mansion, too. What luck.

“I’m fine. It’s just a co-cold or something. Quit baby- babying me.” Toby couldn’t tell if it was his tics or the uncontrollable shakiness in his hands, but he dropped a pack of crackers he’d fished out of your pantry. He groaned in frustration, crouching down to grab them, but you snatched the package up first.

“You’re not fine, Toby. You’re pale as a ghost, your voice is raspier than usual, and you can’t even hold onto a pack of crackers. Just let me help you.” You set the crackers on the counter and put your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. He glared right back, his dark eyes narrowed and defiant.

“Don’t ne- need help,” he muttered, though the stubborn edge in his voice faltered as another violent shiver racked his body. He clutched his arms around himself, but you could see how badly his fingers trembled. The eye-roll you delivered him could kill. 

“Yes, you do. Come on, Toby. Just this once, let me take care of you.” Your tone softened, and you crouched down so you were at eye level with him. “You’re not going to get better if you keep ignoring yourself like this.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours. For all his bravado, Toby wasn’t immune to the weight of your concern. You perceived the world differently than he did, concerned with the trivial things of sickness or relaxation, while the brunette hardly cared if his skin was rotting off (it was). Finally, with a heavy sigh, he muttered, “Fine. But only for a little while.”

“Thank you.” You stood and held out your hand to him. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Toby reluctantly took your hand, and you helped him to his feet. He leaned on you more than he probably realized, his steps unsteady as you guided him to your bedroom. Once there, you pulled back the blankets and helped him sit down on the edge of the bed. In the light of snow through your window, you really got a good look at just how pale he was, lips a subtle shade of purple that would’ve had any normal boy in a hospital.

You helped him shed his ragged jacket, kicking off his boots until he was in the barest clothes he had stumbled into your house with. 

“Alright, lie down,” you instructed, gently pushing on his shoulder. He grumbled something under his breath but complied, sinking into the mattress with a groan. You pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around his shoulders.

“This is stu- stupid,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. He was facedown, something so childish, like a kid upset his mom was making him go to school. 

“It’s not stupid. It’s called taking care of yourself,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Now, stay put. I’m going to get you some water and medicine.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes were already closed. You smiled softly, relief washing over you as you left the room. Finally, he was letting you help. Now all you had to do was nurse him back to health—and maybe convince him that it was okay to lean on someone else every once in a while.

-

The next few days were a blur of soup, medicine, and relentless efforts to keep Toby in bed. He protested at every turn, grumbling about how he didn’t need to be babied, but his body betrayed him. The fever left him weak and sluggish, his usual energy reduced to mere fragments of what it once was. After having to literally calm him down with a healthy dose of cough medicine, he finally stopped berating you.

“This is the worst,” Toby groaned, his voice hoarse as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets you’d tucked around him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his cheeks were flushed from the lingering fever. What started as cold chills and sickly paleness had sprung into a hot mess of trying to break the fever the brunette wasn’t aware he had. Once his body actually laid down, got some medicine, and got under some warmth, it finally started trying to heal itself. The only good thing about this was his body was so busy trying not to combust that his tics were on the back burner. His muscles were so weak, they really didn’t hold the energy.

“You’re getting better,” you reassured him, sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl of soup in your hands. “Here, eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”

He eyed the bowl with disdain but reluctantly took it from you. “You’re en- enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Enjoying what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Bossing me around.” He smirked weakly, but it lacked his usual snarky bite.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin. “But only because it’s for your own good.”

Toby rolled his eyes but started eating the soup anyway. You watched him carefully, noting the way his hands shook less than they had the day before. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

By the third day, the fever broke. Toby woke up looking more like himself, his energy slowly returning. He still tried to downplay how sick he’d been, but you caught the gratitude in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Thanks,” he mumbled one evening, leaning against the doorway as you cleaned up the kitchen. He was wearing one of your hoodies, the sleeves too short for his arms, but all of his dirt-covered clothes were in the middle of a wash.

“For what?” you asked, turning to face him.

“For... y’know. Put- Putting up with me. Helping m- me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. Even with sickness deteriorating, that pink still lingered in his pale cheeks. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”

“You don’t have to be,” you said softly, walking over to him. “That’s what I’m here for. Next time, don’t wait until you’re half-dead to ask for help, okay? One day you’re going to kill yourself just because you’re stubborn.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Impossible.”

“Toby.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll t- try.”

“Good.” You smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek, running your fingers across the scars that littered the skin. He cupped your hand, tired eyes roaming your features as he leaned in, pressing a firm kiss on your forehead. It was only when you reached up to ruffle his hair that he swatted your hand away, but your smile didn’t falter.

-

As the days went on, Toby fully recovered, though he still feined needing to stick around your house just to be sure. Your pantry was nearly run through, and every snack you had planned to eat mysteriously disappeared despite your boyfriend’s testimonials. But you didn’t mind. Seeing him back to his usual self was all the thanks you needed. He would be buying you more, though.

But knowing Toby, you weren’t holding your breath.

Tim Wright▸

The snow was relentless, blanketing the world outside in a thick, quiet stillness. 

Tim was a shadow against the swirling white, his broad shoulders hunched as he trudged up the path to your door. His steps were uneven, his breath visible in harsh puffs against the icy air, and it was clear he wasn’t in good shape. You barely managed to open the door before he stumbled inside, shaking the snow off his coat and muttering a half-hearted apology.

“Tim?” you gasped, reaching out to steady him. He was freezing to the touch, his skin pale and his lips tinged with blue. “You’re ice-cold. What are you doing out in this weather? You should’ve called me.”

“Didn’t want to bother you,” he grumbled, his voice rough and strained. He tried to wave you off, but his hands trembled as he shuffled his heavy jacket off. “I’m fine. Just need to get out of all that.” The Operator had shoved him and Brian too far, Masky and Hoodie nearly ready to saw off some heads if they had to spend one more night in the frigid snow. He knew he shouldn’t bother you, shouldn’t cross that line of his affairs and your relationship, but he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the mansion tonight.

“You are not fine,” you said firmly, taking his arm and guiding him toward the couch. “At least come inside and warm up.” You were still in your pajamas, on your way to bed when you heard the haphazard knocks on your door. 

Tim hesitated, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, but the weight of his exhaustion won out. He let you lead him, collapsing onto the cushions with a groan. The sight of him like this—so worn down and vulnerable—made your heart ache. Tim was always the strong one, the steady rock everyone leaned on, but now he looked utterly defeated.

You grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and draped it over him, fussing despite his weak protests. “Stay put. I’ll get you something hot to drink.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but his voice was softer this time, less convincing. He leaned back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion as he closed his eyes. You hurried to the kitchen, boiling water for tea and pulling together a simple plate of muffins that took less than a minute to heat up in the microwave. You would make him a proper meal later, right now he just needed to get warm. When you returned, he hadn’t moved, his breathing shallow but steady. You set the tea down on the table in front of him and nudged his shoulder gently.

“Drink this,” you said. “It’ll help.”

Tim opened his eyes, glancing at the cup before taking it with a quiet disgust. He sipped the tea slowly, his large hands dwarfing the mug, and you sat beside him, watching him closely. He much preferred the bitter taste of coffee, but something warm in his stomach was better than nothing. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of the blanket.

“I’m sorry, love,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from the tea. “I won’t stay long. You need to get back to bed.” 

“I’m alright,” you said softly, “I’ll kill you before that storm does if you make it out that door again.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he set the mug down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m alright. I’ll rest for a while, then get out of your hair. I need to get back before they send someone after me.”

“That’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on his back. “You’ve got at least the rest of the night before someone comes looking. Nobody is trudging through this storm just to get you, hun. You need to relax. You deserve to be cared for, too.”

Tim let out a shaky breath, his hand scrubbing over his face. He knew there was no fighting it anyway, you held some power over him even he couldn’t figure out. Your sweet words and touches were enough to stop him from war, he thought. “I- Okay, just until morning.”

“Good,” you said, your voice gentle. “Now rest, you need it.”

Tim closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly easing as he let himself relax. It hurt your heart to see him so defeated, but if it took sickness to finally get him to relax, then so be it. You sat beside him, keeping watch as the snow continued to fall outside, a quiet reminder that even as big and strong as Tim was, he was still just as vulnerable to the cold as anyone else.

-

As the hours passed, Tim drifted off into a hazy state of staring at the fireplace, his breathing rough and uneven. The man didn’t sleep—he never did—but right now you really wish he would. You stayed by his side though, curled up next to him and monitoring his every cold chill. 

You couldn’t help but feel a deep ache for him, seeing him like this—so worn down and fragile, yet still trying to be the strong, unbreakable as he always was. He let out a quiet groan as he shifted on the couch, his breath shallow, and for a moment, he barely seemed aware of his own discomfort. You were glad you had lit your fireplace hours before he arrived, the bright glow and gentle cracking of the logs under the flames, the heat radiating well enough to warm the whole house.

You gently touched his arm, trying to stir him from his restless half-awake daze. “Tim, you need medicine,” you said softly, your voice gentle yet firm. "You're burning up, and I need to make sure you don’t have a fever.”

Tim’s dark eyes blinked with confusion, and for a moment, he looked disoriented (meaning he was so far in the pits of his mind that there was no telling how disassociated he had become just from sitting here). The firelight danced on his tired face, casting soft shadows over the sharp lines of his features. “I’m fine,” he muttered hoarsely, but the words were weak, lacking the usual conviction. He barely had the strength to lift his head as he tried to wave you off. “I don’t need any medicine. Just a little rest.”

You frowned, your hand resting lightly on his forehead, the heat radiating from his skin like a warning. He was dangerously close to a fever, and no matter how much he fought it, he needed help. He just couldn’t see it. “I’m not asking,” you said softly, brushing back the damp strands of his hair. “A little rest won’t hold out.”

You wondered how Masky was taking the whole ordeal. You decided if his host was sick and weak, the alter probably wouldn’t want to front in such an unprefferable state. 

Tim didn’t argue this time, his eyes flickering with mental strain. He let out a small sigh as you stood and walked into your bathroom, the quiet sound of your movements a comfort to him in the midst of his foggy, feverish haze. You pulled out the small bottle of medicine from the cabinet, one you always kept stocked for moments like these—when he pushed himself too far, too hard, until his body couldn’t keep up with the strain. This wasn’t the first time he had stumbled into your home due to his ailments, and you were very sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You returned to the couch with the bottle and a glass of water, gently helping Tim sit up, his body unsteady as you supported him. His gaze met yours, conflicted, but he didn’t argue. You could see how much he wanted to be strong, to be the one taking care of everything, but right now, he needed someone to take care of him. And you were more than willing to be that person.

“Drink this,” you urged softly, holding the glass to his lips. “It’ll help bring your fever down. You’re not going anywhere until it does.”

He hesitated, eyes narrowing in that familiar stubborn way, but the trembling in his hands gave him away. With a heavy sigh, he took the glass from you and swallowed the medicine in a few quick gulps. He winced, but when he set the glass down, his gaze softened, a brief flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over his shoulder, offering the smallest of comforts as he settled back against the couch.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied quietly. “Just rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Tim’s lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but his exhaustion overtook him, his body sinking back into the softness of the cushions, his glazing over once more against the firelight. You didn’t need him to say anything. You could feel the weight of his gratitude, the trust he placed in you without saying a word.

You moved to the kitchen again. His body was still weak, but it needed fuel to help fight off the cold and the fever. You knew he wouldn’t ask for a meal, never would. But you also knew he needed it. You’d learned long ago that showing care was sometimes the quietest, most effective way to love him—through the meals you made, the medicine you administered, the silent acts of kindness that spoke louder than words ever could.

But, a bowl of soup would have to do for right now.

The smell of broth began to fill the house, a gentle, soothing scent that would help settle Tim’s stomach once he slowly phased back to reality. You checked on him every few minutes, ensuring he stayed warm, covering him with an extra blanket when you noticed him shiver. His breath was a little steadier now, the worst of the fever easing off, and the signs of his discomfort had lessened just enough for him to be able to relax. 

You made sure to brew a pot of fresh coffee, too. That breakfast brew he seemed to enjoy so much, the smell wafting through the house and silently altering the man. 

Finally, when the soup was ready, you returned to him, holding the bowl and mug in your hands and a small spoon at the ready. He looked up at you, his eyes soft, tired but grateful. You helped him sit up once more, this time offering him the warm, comforting food he needed to heal.

“You’ve got to eat something,” you said gently, pressing the spoon into his hand. “You need your strength.”

Tim took the spoon and scooped a small portion of the soup, eating slowly, savoring the warmth it brought to his cold body. Each spoonful was another step toward recovery, and with each one, he seemed to relax just a little bit more, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let you care for him. He took gentle sips of the coffee, the taste seeming to steady him better than the tea had earlier, the tension lines in his face finally evening out.

When the bowl was empty, you set it aside and brushed your fingers through his hair again, a tender gesture. “Better?”

He gave a small nod, his eyes now fully closed, his body finally beginning to give in to the warmth and the comfort you’d provided. He didn’t speak, but his hand found yours, gripping it loosely, a silent thanks for everything you had done.

“Need anything else?” You brushed his cheek, the stinging warmth still hot on his skin, but evidently cooler than it had been. He scanned your face for a moment, dark eyes roaming over features he had studied a thousand times, but finally had an answer.

“I’ve got a cig pack in my jacket…” The way his eyebrows twinged upwards gave you all the hint you needed, a small chuckle rising from his chest. You slid over to the door where he had discarded his jacket, rummaging through compartment pockets that held tool knives or bullet casings, but finally landing on the half-empty carton of cigarettes, his lighter tucked neatly inside. You picked out one, lighter in hand as you sat back on the couch.

Tim went to reach for the thing before you shook your head, holding the orange end to his lips with a small smile. He took the cig, your hand following and cupping over the end as you flicked his lighter to a spark, lighting the end. It smoldered, smoke slowly rising from the stick and into the air of your house. You would worry about the smell later.

A deep breath in and you could phsyically see the tension in his shoulders loosen.

This went on for the rest of the night, the slow rotation between cigarettes and refilled cups of coffee as you stayed by his side, arms latched around his own as your head rested on his shoulder.

He slowly shed the blankets, too, the sunlight break finally hitting over the horizon and filtering into your living room. By the time his fever was gone (broken in one night out of pure stubbornness), you were quietly snoring beside him, body curled up under his arm.

He took the time to carry you to your bedroom, slotting you under the covers with numerous gentle kisses across your cheeks. He cleaned the living room and kitchen, washing the bowl and mugs he had dirtied and sorting them away, making sure to tidy everything as the early hours of the morning rolled around. 

He was there to make you food when you finally woke up, returning every favor you had offered the night before. You found yourself at his side on the couch again, watching the snow in the daylight.

You stayed by his side, your presence a quiet promise that you would always be there to take care of him, just as he had always done for you.

In the warmth of your home, surrounded by the gentle sounds of his steady breathing and the comforting scent of the meal he had made, everything felt like it was exactly where it needed to be. You didn’t need words to say it—your love for each other was already in everything you did.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[kiymathefreaker]

any headcanon for sleppy toby?mhmmmhhhmm😍

You naughty naughty girl…ofc there is

SLIGHT NSFW after the cut so be aware

SLEEPY TOBY HCs

•Tobes is one of the heaviest sleepers you will meet and it’s not for the reasons you think

•Since he has CIPA, he can’t feel the weight of the day and the pain that comes with daily proxy work

•So when he comes home and gets in that bed, he is instantly sleeping

•He’ll deny that he’s sleepy or he needs to rest, but deep down both you and Toby know that he needs to loosen up and relax

•And when he wakes up, he’ll be the most unbearable person ever

•He will act like a literal baby and will expect YOU to treat him like one

•Hell he would even request to be breastfed if he had the balls lmfaoo

•I hc Toby to have a naturally deepish and velvety voice, so when he wakes up it’s 10x more groggy

•He’ll even sound like a smoker of 25 years when he wakes up and you’ll love it WHORE

•He will fight a lot just to not get out of bed

•He’ll try to get you back into bed, will sweet talk you with that voice, promise you unspeakable things if you lay down with him only 5 minutes more and it’ll work you SLUT

•Eventually he will wake up to have breakfast when he smells the food you cooked and will come skipping over to the kitchen lol

•He’ll come behind you when you’re cooking and hug you just to whisper “how great you are at taking care of him and how much he loves you” with that hot ass voice and sexy sleepy eyes that you love

•Yeah Toby being sleepy will end up with him bending you over the counter and fucking your brains off lmfaooo

[americantfootball]

hiii im not sure if you take reqs and you can ignore this if you want but i rlly love how u write the proxies!! ^__^ may i req for hcs of them in a poly relationship with reader? like who fell first, how they came to terms with being poly and etc

thx anon ! sorry for getting to ur request so late. i'd love to write for this. hope u enjoy :,) this is a oneshot cause i didn't know how to start this one up i kinda just kept writinggg lol

----

ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION — proxies

cw, } gn!reader (they and them prns used), drinking, a little suggestive, mention of murder, why choose?

summary , } going out to the bar for a quick drink was not supposed to lead to this...

When you were first "chosen" as one of Slenderman's proxies, it was, undeniably, significantly overwhelming. Not only being introduced to one entity that you would be working for but several others that you were working and living with... yeah... a bit nerve-wracking.

Toby was incredibly welcoming, having been in the same situation as you when he arrived at the mansion for the first time. He undoubtedly found you attractive, but he would never willingly admit it. That was until...

The proxies were all tired and after one of their missions decided to visit the local bar for a quick drink. At this point, you were well acquainted with one another and the boys even felt comfortable taking their masks off around you when going into public spaces.

The dark sky was cloudy and the wind nipped aggressively at your skin as the four of you stepped into a small bar on the outskirts of a town in which you were unaware of the name.

Masky, or rather Tim, as he told you to call him in public, showed the group to a booth sitting in the back corner of the pub. Even through the blaring country music playing on an old jukebox, you could hear Toby grumble a soft complaint about the melodies playing from the machine, causing Hoodie, who told you to call him Brian, to send a glare toward Toby at the insult but ultimately say nothing. Hoodie-- Brian-- wasn't a man of many words, you found.

When you all finally found your seats at the booth that Tim had so gracefully picked out, he ordered a round of beers for all four of you.

Several rounds later, evidently, you and Toby were the only ones not drunk. Toby didn't like drinking-- he mentioned something about his father being an alcoholic-- and you knew you guys would need someone with a proper license and driving knowledge to be able to drive you all back to the cabin you were staying in when the time came to leave.

Tim pulled out a cigarette to smoke despite the 'no smoking' sign hanging near the front entrance of the building, but none of the employees nor the other patrons of the establishment seemed to care or even notice.

"It might be time to move on. It's getting late and we need to get up early tomorrow morning so we can make it back at a decent time," You reasoned, and Toby nodded, staring into your eyes intently as you spoke. Masky grumbled.

"Awww-- you're no fun," He slurred, setting down his half-drunken pint of beer and taking another drag of his cigarette. His eyes met yours, similar to Toby's. "Don't be such a saint. I'm sure you can have fun sometimes."

You caught yourself blushing at Tim's dumb innuendo, but you huffed and crossed your arms, avoiding eye contact.

"So cute when you pout. Wish you'd just be mine."

Everything seemed to pause for a split second when Tim spoke those words. Even Brian's drunken head seemed to move to the side to stare at his best friend when he let those words slip loose. Toby's jaw practically hit the table his elbows were resting on.

Through all of these reactions, Tim looked unbothered. He snuffed his cigarette out on the table and shrugged.

"What? Y'all are looking at me like I just murdered your grandma's dog."

"Do you really mean that, Tim?" You ask, overcome with confusion and desire to know if he was being honest.

"Do I take you as the type to bullshit?"

Everyone at the booth paused, at a loss for words. Tim was right-- he often said what he meant when he felt it-- even at the risk of other's feelings.

"M-Masky--" Toby babbled.

"Tim." He corrected.

"Y-You can't feel th-that way about th-them. Th-they're m-mine," Toby admits, making your mouth open with shock before Brian moves to speak.

"I feel the same way about them."

"Wait-- do you guys all like me-- like that?" You question, at an utter loss for words. All three of the boys nod in unison.

"Well-- who do you choose, angel?" Masky questions, all of the boys on the edge of their seats and eager to hear your most anticipated answer.

"Who says you can't share me?"

[bloodblanks]

masterlist — creepypasta + marble hornets

characters: eyeless jack, hoodie, masky, ticci toby, jeff the killer, ben drowned, slenderman

all works are reader insert [character x fem reader]

author's note: dead dove: do not eat. the following works may contain dark, explicit content, including rape/non-con, dub-con, stockholm syndrome, ‘yandere’ tropes, abuse, death, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

if you wish to see more content, please consider commissioning me! ♡

creepypasta boyfriend quiz

eyeless jack

tili tili bom | one | two | three

a field of red spider lilies | one | two | three | final

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

hoodie / brian thomas

solace | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

masky / timothy ‘tim’ wright

solace | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

ticci toby / tobias erin ‘toby’ rogers

pumpkin head | one

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

jeff the killer / jeffrey woods

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

ben drowned

30 frames per second | one

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

slenderman / the operator

feverish and faint

first encounter

when you’re sad

punishment

kinks

miscellaneous work

creepypasta pet headcanons

creepypasta video game headcanons

creepypasta pet name headcanons

creepypasta height headcanons

[decaf-mother]

Zalgo and SlenderMan with scared S/O that doesn’t trust any creepy pastas. However, S/O only cares about Slender and Zalgo. Despite S/O is a gaming nerd like BEN. Headcanons.

Slender and Zalgo Head-Canons

-

Creepypasta SFW Head-Canons

Scared!Gamer S/O with: Slender & Zalgo

-

Warnings: Violence Mention & Suggested Manipulation (Zalgo section)

-

Slenderman

He genuinely wishes you could trust the others but he understands it's difficult for you and will never push

Let's you sit in his office as often as you like, though he requests if you bring in your Switch that you keep the volume down so he can work

Occasionally will sit on the couch with you and watch you play your console games, this way you don't have to feel as afraid if the others come around

The size difference is quite comical and most of the homes furniture was made to fit him so you always feel so tiny no matter where you sit

Gets frustrated when you spend long periods of only eating junk food or not drinking enough water- he literally sets a time schedule for you to keep you healthy

Finds it heart warming yet also shocking that he's the one you trust- he's literally a big ass faceless demon

Zalgo

He takes advantage of the fact you're afraid of everyone but him, scoops you up in his arms and coos at you how he will always will protect you and you're just so cute

Endlessly amused by the fact that you trust him- the giant chaotic demon

LOVES it whenever you hide behind him, constantly dotes on you every moment he can- after all you're his silly scared little human

Video games are a rather foreign concept to him so he just watches you play them, fascinated by your joy over something so simple- well at least to him it's simple

If any of his servants spook you too badly it will not end well for them, he tries not to rip their heads off in front of you and waits till later

Spoils you with gifts like game consoles or any new games he thinks you might like, he's picked up on a few things from being around you

-

{Hope these are okay. Didn't know if you wanted separate or together so I did separate <3}

-

{More Content}

[darlingdreadwrites]

Awkward

pairing: Ticci Toby x GN!Reader

summary: You had planned to hang out in the woods on your day off, but the sound of Toby training reminds you of an awkward encounter. Confronting him leads to other things.

contains: a nervous toby, a little bit of a confession, toby's in loooooove, kissing

warnings: toby walks in on you half naked (encounter is under the RED DIVIDER!! skip it if you don't want to read it cuz it is kinda NSFW), awkward talks

wordcount: 1.5k

masterlist

a.n: needed to feed my toby fiends (i missed writing about him). also, for the EJ request, i am working on it, don't worry babes

The dark blades of grass tickled you through your long-sleeved shirt. You could smell the crisp autumn air as the cold kissed at your skin. Today wasn't the worst, you noted. You even had the right amount of sun. The orange-red leaves were cushioning your head, and these woods had never looked more beautiful. It was perfect. 

Thwack. Thwack.

It was perfect. 

You try to ignore the sound of Toby practicing his aim. You want peace and not be reminded of the awkward encounter you two shared. You shiver internally at the memory.

Having been tasked with another mission, you wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. It felt like you had just gotten back from one. As much as you might've enjoyed hunting, your body would get so sore. 

That’s why you were petulantly - and very slowly - getting dressed. You timed it; how long you should put an article of protective clothing to drag it out as much as possible. You just had no idea that this wasn't a solo mission for you. 

You were new. At least, new to Toby. He was used to the timely manner that Tim and Brian would respond when on a mission. That’s all he would remember until his eyes glazed over, leaving him as little more than a puppet to the Operator. He honestly thought you had forgotten about getting partnered with him and about your kill. He was right about one thing. That's why, unbeknownst to both of you, Toby was rounding the corner to barge into your room and yell at you like he used to be yelled at for taking too long.

Your bedroom door had swung open, and a heavy silence came afterward. You - being in the middle of putting your shirt on - had stopped to whip your head in the direction of the now-open door. If only your reflexes had the decency to let your shirt fall all the way.

Toby floundered, his mouth opening and closing dumbly. He didn't know why he couldn't - or why he even needed to - say anything. He could just close the door and not stare at you like he'd never seen a half-naked human body before. A very attractive half-naked human body that belonged to a very attractive human he had a massive crush on. 

He realized that now as the two of you stared at each other for a comically long time. His throat felt like it was the dryest it had ever been, and he worked to stop a heart attack from ensuing - and his dick from getting hard. But his eyes were struggling to stay glued to your face and not the way that your chest was on full display. He wanted to rush in so badly and squish his face against your - nope.

“Ooooh, fuh-fuck,” he whimpered. From embarrassment, you hoped. He squeaked out an apology before slamming the door shut.

Toby almost messed up the whole operation that day. You knew it had something to do with the incident, but neither of you wanted to address it at all. 

That was the whole reason Toby was throwing his hatchets like no tomorrow. You had to stop Tim from beating him into a bloody pulp. He said that if Toby liked his hatchets so much, he should learn to not fuck up his throws. He had no idea of what nightmare he had unleashed for anyone in the younger man’s vicinity. 

You try to shut out the repetitive sound of steel meeting wood. And the heavy, breathy grunts that came out of him, but you weren't going to get into that. As much as your brain screamed at you to ignore his presence altogether, a very loud, small part of you wanted to talk to him. You only recognized that as wanting to yell at him for being annoying. 

After a few more grueling seconds, you sit up. You internally hype yourself up to confront him as you stand up. You reach behind you to brush off any leaves or dirt that stuck to you. 

You'd only made it halfway to him when he heard the crunch of leaves. He knew it was you. Jesus, had he memorized the sound of you walking? How pathetic could he be? He contemplated scrambling in the opposite direction and leaving behind all his stuff for a moment. But when he saw your face come into view, he was stuck. Rooted, planted in his spot, and at your mercy. 

You offer a small, awkward smile before speaking up. “Could you –“

“I-is it the-the…” he trails off, glancing at the hatchets.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, it’s the… it’s pretty loud.”

“My…my bad.”

“No, it’s – it’s fine, really, just… ya’know…”

Toby nods, grunting softly as he dislodges a hatchet from a very abused stump. He – pretends – to inspect it for a moment. “I have to-have to practice. I can’t hhhhelp how loud it-it is.”

You blink, taken aback by his defensiveness. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“I’m-I’m just sssayin’ that if it’s bo-bothering you, you cuh-can go back to the-the cabin,” he almost mumbles the last part when he sees the look on your face.

“Ooo-kay,” you turn to leave, not wanting to deal with this.

“Wait – wait!” Toby drops his hatchet and takes two big steps closer to you. “Ssssorry, that didn’t-didn’t come… out right.”

“No, I understood.”

“Then why ar-are you making thuh-that face.”

“What – “ you can feel your cheeks start to warm up. “What face, Toby?”

He points at you with a gloved finger, his right brow twitches. “That-that face.”

“I don’t make any face.”

“Yeah, you duh-do. Happens a lot-lot when you talk to mmme.”

Oh, you need to get out of here. Like, right now.

“Won’t look at you again, then.”

You go to leave again but get stopped by a hand on your arm. It’s warm – he’s warm – and your brain almost short-circuits because of it. It’s gentle, more than you thought he could be. You can feel the involuntary movements due to his tics, but you can tell he’s being careful with you.

“It’s not-not a bad th-thing, or whate-whatever,” he lets his arm fall to his side like he just realized what he’d done. “Just… nuh-notice it, ‘s all.”

“You’ve stared at me enough to notice that?” You scoff, intending to tease him, but your voice comes off a little shaky.

Toby doesn’t respond immediately – he just shifts a little to get closer to you. He doesn’t trust himself to speak because he knows he would’ve immediately said yes.

Yes, he stared at you enough to notice that. Yes, he actually, really liked your face. Yes, he’d thought about kissing your face many times. Yes, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of you when he opened your door.

But he couldn’t just say that. You always seemed annoyed, or tense, when he talked to you. And even then, you two didn’t talk a lot. Toby, not fond of being in the cabin for too long, was always outside. He noticed that you mostly stayed inside – preferring the comfort of your room. Part of him wanted to experience that with you. He hadn’t had any type of comfort in a while.

Toby realized that he must be freaking you out with how long he was staring, but – wow, when had your face gotten so close? Toby couldn’t believe that not only was he leaning in, but so were you. It seemed like an invisible magnet was pulling your faces closer until he could feel your breath on his face and smell your heavenly scent. A scent that he would only be blessed with every time you walked by. But now it wasn’t a fleeting aroma. No, it was so much stronger than he ever hoped it could be.

For a moment, all you could hear was the wind and the rustling of the trees in response to it. You couldn’t help but feel it all be stripped away. As if everything had disappeared, leaving just you, him, and this moment. You both paused before any contact could be made. Your eyes flickered up to Toby’s, and he did the same before your gaze fell back to his mouth. You always admired how pink they looked, so kissable. Oh, god, were you going to kiss him?

He steps a little closer – he’s inches away from you now – his head tilting slightly. His lips part, and it causes you to swallow involuntarily. Your brows pinch together, and you look back up at him. The sight has him yearning to grab your face and planting a long, bruising kiss to your lips.

You feel your pulse thrumming as he leans in to close that last inch. His lips press onto yours softly – almost tentative – and then his hand finds yours. The rough texture of his glove rubs against your skin as he pulls you closer. You can just feel how much he’s holding back – holding everything in his power to not brush his tongue against your bottom lip.

When you finally break apart, neither of you speaks. He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he almost looks absolutely adorable. Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“I knew-knew you liiiiiked meee,” he sang, shimmying his shoulders a little.

You almost punched him.

But, in the end, kissing him again would satisfy the two of you way better.

[fattuccini-afraido]

Jeff: I have good news...and bad news. Which one do you wanna hear first?

Slenderman: ...Good?

Jeff: It's very unlikely I will ever, EVER do it again.

[scenezfreak]

hiii, can you please do EJ x reader x jeff (poly) where reader has vasovagal syncope (basically that she faints a lot or gets really light headed all the time ) I have it and it really stresses me out so I was wondering how they would react.

thankss 💕

A/N: Of course I can! I don’t know much about this so I had to research it a bit- sorry if things aren’t correct!

Also make sure you stay safe, my love <3

Jeff the killer x Reader X EJ with an

s/o with vasovagal syncope

Warnings: Fainting/passing out

NOT PROOF READ, MINORS DNI

Jeff and EJ were steady talking to each other about useless crap, more like arguing.. “I clearly got the last kill” you’d hear Jeff and his huge ego say. EJ sighed in return, trying to ignore him. You honestly don’t know what happened next..them arguing was stressful as always but this time it felt different. where you having an episode..oh gods. Your head felt fuzzy and you felt detached from the two men that were less than 5 feet away.

"cut it out.." you murmured, obviously they didn't hear you. What idiots. You sighed and got up to get water, deciding it'd be nice to get away from them a bit and maybe it could clear the cloud in your head.

Perhaps you got up too fast because now the world seemed to be spinning. You quickly grabbed your head and the last thing you remember was landing onto something soft. Anything after that is history.

~

"Y/N!!!" Jeff yelled but not too loudly as he reached his arm to you, EJ being turned away from Jeff from their recent argument took a second to fully turn around to the situation. You landed safely in Jeff’s arms and he turned to EJ. They both knew you had this condition and didn’t mind helping you at all. EJ silently took you from Jeff’s grip, who seemed reluctant to let go but EJ was smarter in this stuff than him. EJ laid you down on the bed.

“She’ll need water when she wakes up.” EJ said as he pet your head. Jeff didn’t hesitate to run out of the room to get some water from the fridge. When he got back you were starting to wake up, EJ telling you not to sit up too fast. Jeff opened the water bottle and helped you drink from it as EJ rubbed your back gently. “Thank you..” you said softly, scared that you upset them.

“No need to think us, we don’t mind helping you at all.” EJ stated, he brought you into a soft hug before laying you back down. “I’m sorry for stressing you out by arguin’ with Jack.” Jeff looked away, setting the now closed water bottle onto the bedside table. You huffed out a laugh, Jeff was actually apologizing? “What!? Don’t laugh!” He said, EJ stood up and laughed a bit too and patted Jeff on the shoulder.

“I’m going to get started on dinner. Keep an eye on her and call me if anything happens.” With that he walked out of the bedroom to get started on dinner. Jeff walked over and sat on the bed next to you. “You okay?” He hesitantly asked. You nodded, “I’m so lucky you guys were there..” Jeff smiled and ruffled your hair, “We’d never let anything hurt you, darling.”

[justasecretflower]

🥀Hello, I saw you’re eyeless Jack Dating before he was sacrificed. If you wouldn’t mind could you do Toby Rogers- before He went coo coo for cocoa puffs and Slenderman basically stole him. 😭😂 Please and thank you hope you have a good day. 🤍

I LOVE THIS REQUEST SM🤍

🥀- Dating Ticci Toby! Before he became a proxy!

~fluff, set before the accident:)

I won’t be able to post everyday, sadly. Since I’m starting school I’m also gonna start cooking club, national honour society then tennis:(. But please keep requesting I will not stop posting completely:).

____________________________________________

- you noticed Toby’s golden heart at first, how much he got bullied, everything in his life, yet he remained to have a soft expression.

- At first, he thought you were pranking him when you gave him the note, your cheeks flush. But when he looked at the note and thought it was a prank he didn’t miss the hurt on your face.

________________________________________

Toby’s dark hazel eyes scan the note, some tics jerking his neck and making him restart reading the note. Thinking it’s some sick joke, as if anyone like you would like anyone like him, his eyes narrow and he practically spits at you. “L- Let me guess. T-this was a sick joke w-wasn’t it?” He says seriously, his tics making him stutter a bit but his tone remained hurt, aggravated, and angry, all of the bullying he received callousing his heart and making him firmly believe that no one would even spare him a second glance. Your eyes fill with hurt and your stomach plunges from rejection, a little embarrassed and let down your voice shakes. “No it’s not. I really like you.” Toby softened a bit at your tone but then hardened again “you don’t know me.” You were fed up. Can’t he see you actually like him for him? “But I want to.” Toby’s mouth shuts and he shoves his hands in his pockets of his black hoodie and nods. “I’ll have my sister pick you up so we can go to the movies or something Friday..” he says reluctantly, still a little convinced that you wouldn’t ever like him.

_________________________________________

- his sister, Lyra, was absolutely glowing when you entered the car, sticking her hand out almost immediately and smiling widely, no one had taken her brother out before, not even giving him respect. So she was over the moon.

- you talked with Lyra a bit, and then turned your attention towards Toby, who was looking at you with softest, most affectionate filled earthy green eyes ever. Sparkling gently. It was like he lit up when he finally realised you were serious, not only serious but getting along with his sister.

- during the movie, you tried very very slowly to grab his hand. He immediately tensed and gasped a tiny bit. But only 20 minutes later he reached out, first with his pinky and then his whole, shaky, scarred hand.

- when you intertwined your fingers, Toby was convinced he never felt more happy, he didn’t even watch the rest of the movie, he was focused on you.

-how your features glowed in the dim light, how you smiled during a happy moment, or gently did your [enter your nervous fidget.] when a tense part came up.

____________________________________________

-when he’s tired of everything going on in his house he’ll bike ride or walk over to your house and taps on the window just to hold you.

- he’ll pull your waist in with his arms and bury his face in your shoulder. Gently kissing it sweetly mumbling “my y/n”

-genuinely wants to cry of happy tears whenever you defend him from bullies.

- finger tip kisses.

-while you two are sitting across from each other in somewhere public, or holding each other in the quiet night, he lifts your intertwined hands, frees your hand and gently kisses your fingertips.

-he can’t really buy you any gifts but he certainly makes you tiny doodles on sticky notes to put in your locker or room.

- his eyes got misty when you first told him you loved him.

-you got him a gold heart locket with your picture in it and yourself one with his picture. He never takes it off and kisses it whenever he misses you.

-late night talks on the rooftop, stargazing, after he ran to your house again in the middle of the night.

-You’re his angel; his light, the love of his life. He can’t stop the thoughts of running away with you whenever he looks at your pretty smile or hears your heavenly laugh.

- “My sweet y/n” “my y/n” “Angel”

-your first kiss is when you two were stargazing, the sweetest, most affectionate kiss ever. Putting your foreheads together first, lacing your fingers, then finally meeting for a soft kiss.

-he runs to you if he sees you in the hallways.

-so, in theory…Toby..💪

____________________________________________

Thanks for reading! I love all of your requests btw🤍.

Tags

[junabuggy]

Hello! I saw your Toby headcanons, and as a Toby fan, I'd love some platonic Toby headcanons, if that's possible? Just kinda wanna see how he'd act with a friend that gets him, y'know? Thank you so much ^0^

𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !!

𝘈/𝘯: ofc !! I loooove writing for Toby hehe

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: None :*:·\(￣▽￣)/·:*·°★*

──★ ˙ ̟ 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨??

☆• Honestly it'd probably take a while to actually befriend good 'ol Toby, but it's very worth it once you do !!

☆• Chaotic, but fun (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

☆• After missions he practically busts down your door and makes himself comfortable in your bed, yapping about his day and what happened during his mission for a while before deciding to watch random YouTube videos on your TV... Yeah, safe to say he's comfortable with you.

☆• Naturally, sleepovers happen a lot because he'll end up falling asleep

☆• BUT !1!!! If it's a planned one he's pulling all nighters with you (๑·̀ㅁ·́๑)✧

☆• Would find the silly 2010 quotev quizzes and tests funny, def engages in them with you

☆• Takes a "Which creepypasta character is your boyfriend?" one and gets himself 😭😭

☆• Deep talks late at night just about life and what he can remember from before.. only time he ever really does open up (even if he's still somewhat vague about certain stuff)

☆• INSIDE JOKES. He's a sucker for those

☆• Yes, the other pastas look at you two funny when he says a random word and you burst out into a fit of giggles, him trying (and failing) to hold back his own

☆• You guys have a secret and way too complex handshake you never fail to greet each other with

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

[haunteddollbaby]

OOO WOULD A DATING JEFF X READER X EJ POLY HCs BE ALRIGHT?

yes yes yesssss! im gonna have fun w this one! these are just randoms hcs that came to my mind since you didnt specify what you wanted 🤷‍♀️. s/os can be interpreted as a pasta in this seeing as theyre friends with other pastas and are implied to live in slender mansion.

poly jeff tk and eyeless jack hcs!

• you guys whole dynamic is chaos ☠️.

• its literally ej and jeff on your top all the time and you messing w them 😭.

• jeffs not TOO bad hes just a little very jealous...

• like if you and ej even TRY to do something without him hes gonna be bothered. it could literally be something as small as grocery shopping.

• "you guys are going grocery shopping? without me? wow i thought this was a three person relationship, i guess you two dont care about me, huh?"

• he doesnt mean it, hes just really dramatic.

• dont even get me started on when you hang out with jane. hes so jealous. hell do his best to sabotage your day.

• hes ESPECIALLY pissed when ej goes to hang out with liu. hes scared jack will like his brother more than him.

• dw he gets over fast tho just give him a quick hug and kiss.

• now onto our beloved ej.

• jack just has the need to know exactly where the both of you are at all times. like he doesnt care if you do something just you and jeff, he couldnt care less, but what he does need to know is where you are.

• because what happens if someone kidnaps you? what happens if you get lost? what happens if what happened to him happens to you? what if-

• jacks never really been a relationship before so hes extremely paranoid. he just loves the both of you though he doesnt want jeff to know that so much and he cant stand the thought of losing you.

• when jeff doesnt remember to tell ej when hes going on a long mission or something he loses his shit.

• ej may be a sweetheart to you two but when hes mad? hes a fucking demon, literally.

• he does not care about anything. he goes to slenderman demanding to know where jeff is. he interrogates everyone at scalpel point until he finds out.

• and when he does find out? he goes to check and lovingly whoop jeffs ass.

• people get pissed at you and jeff for making them go through jacks wrath. jeff does it on purpose sometimes, just to fw them. you do too your just not as obvious as jeff.

• your a completely different story though.

•if you go somewhere and "forget" to tell ej he will still go bother everyone but when he finds you he doesnt do the same things he does to jeff.

• when ej finds you because he needs to confirm that people werent lying to him about where you are so he'll check everywhere until he finds you hell calm down. he might even be more clingy to make sure hes with you at all times to protect you.

• jeff and ej both are simps for you, too. anything you want them to do? its done. like anything you could ever want is yours.

• liu tries to use this to his advantage and hangs out with ej alot so jeff gets mad. jane does the same with you.

• liu and jane proudly say fuck jeff and that theyre team ej x y/n even though youre all together. they just want jeff to be mad.

• ben and tobi try to get things off of jeff and ej through you. ben'll be like, "heyy y/n! were friends, arent we? you should definetely get jeff to do the dishes for me <3."

• or tobi will say "y...y/n can you as...k jack to do this mi...mission for me?"

• ofc you say no. youre not trying to give your bfs extra work.

• but sometimes you hang out with jane, liu and ej without jeff to get him mad.

• and maybe sometimes youll go to the corner store without ej knowing every once in a while, so he can panic a little.

• overall jeff is kinda jealous, ejs protective and you like messing w them but you all love eachother <3.

im so stuck w my other writings so i just decided to have a little fun and make this. here u go 🤲🏼

masterpost