#Masky Imagines

[sukuaeheddo]

I got inspired by entry 35 a lot :] finally sharing the finished piece <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various Creepypastas x Reader who sleeps in weird spaces

3/5 of the prizes for @reivelmin !!

Post contains: Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Hoodie, Masky, Ticci Toby, Liu, and Bloody Painter!

I actually dont think I've written for Helen before?? I know I havent written for Liu yet so heres to hoping my takes and hcs are accurate!

EYELESS JACK

When he first catches you in the closet sleeping nearly standing straight up he nearly yelps. You made the stoic eyeless Jack, the man who rarely flinches or jumps at anything, jolt. Naturally he wakes you up and asks why you're in there, but no answer really satisfies him. He tries to drag you to bed and for the night everything is.. normal. But this will be far from the last time he finds you sleeping in an odd place, seemingly unbothered. He eventually asks if theres something going on with you, even dumbly asking if theres something wrong with the bed.. but alas, nothing. You just.. sleep like that.. he often drags you into bed so you dont get sore or fall over

LAUGHING JACK

He thinks you're pranking him, and of course he starts cracking up. He commends you for getting him good, only for his laughter to die down when he realizes that you are in fact asleep while curled in a cabinet. For a moment he thinks you.. died.. or worse was murdered and stuffed into the odd place. He nearly rips you out of the space before you finally crack an eye open. Please dont scare him like that again, he does not take abandonment well even if the scenario is someone possibly dying. Once the shock is over with and he grows more used to it, the humor he originally found in it returns.. it almost turns into a game of where hes going to find you next and what position you're going to be in.. he does not bother to take you to bed and if theres room hes going to squeeze in with you wherever you are

MASKY

Hes probably done that at least once, he sometimes watches you in your sleep on the occasion that you actually fall asleep in a normal place (bed, couch, ect) and he kind of slumps into the corner he was sulking in. Though you... certainly one up him when he catches you sleeping on top of the fridge! If you're in a hard to reach place or really deep into it he leaves you be without attempting to get you out. Eventually he kind of just accepts that this is something you do and completely leaves you alone unless you're in the way of something. More likely to wake you up than moving you out of the way, though... you've probably gotten jumpscared by him simply standing there waiting for you to wake up

HOODIE

Very similar to Masky but I do think Hoodie would take you to bed so you dont get sick (floors are cold, people!) Or getting a knot somewhere in your muscles. Partly because he will likely be too busy with his work to tend to you, partly also because he can be stern when it comes to your health. Theres no ifs ands or buts, hes taking you to bed and hes going to keep you there! Hes a big dude too, he'll hold you in place next to him if he has to

TICCI TOBY

He gets it, honestly. If it's like a security or a comfort thing or just out of impulse he gets it. You might find him sleeping in ungodly positions when he crashes at your place, or sleeping under the bed. He has used a chair as a blanket before. He might feel inclined to try to one up you, actually. All fun and games of course! He also does not carry you to bed, and similar to LJ he might just join you if theres room! Just be warned when sleeping around him he might draw on your face or something.. definitely takes your phone so he can take pictures of you to make fun of you later

LIU

For a minute he doesnt realize exactly what's going on. He might actually pick your stuffed animal up and give it back to you and shut the door of the closet before ripping it open as he stares at you. Gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up, and while he might have to get a little harsh to actually get you awake hes apologizing for waking you up. So so so many questions. Why are you doing that? Why dont you come to bed? Will not take no for an answer. He wants answers, if there are any. After you offer an explanation hes a lot more understanding about it although still very.. confused. Are you not worried about falling over in your sleep? Or even just waking up uncomfortable...? That aside how do you even.. sleep standing up like that, and how long were you like that..? He just.. accepts it

BLOODY PAINTER

Very neutral about it, but he does entertain you with questions when he catches you awake in the morning. It doesnt matter where you sleep, hes not going to disturb you unless you get in his way. But considering hes claimed a corner in your home for himself and his belongings, you don't have to worry about that! Despite claiming to not mind all that much you still seem to wake up in bed despite falling asleep under it. He'll never admit to moving you, but theres no other person who could have done it.. he also wont ever say it but he does sometimes want you to lay next to him

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 3

PROMPT: Corruption Kink

CREEP: Masky

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: 18+, Corruption Kink, Loss of Virginity, Implied Stalking, Pill mention, Smoking/Nicotine, Gun mention, Fem genitalia, Raw Sex, Creampie, Oral (fem receiving), Outside Sex, the works. This had way too much plot sowwy got carried away <3

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

Small clouds of your breath released into the cold winter air, the small spiral of smoke-like whisps escaping your lips and rising into the sky. Your hands clenched around your torso as you shook, trying and failing to warm up. You searched the fog that blanketed the area around you, waiting for the man that had you wrapped around his finger. So much so that you were waiting at a bus stop at 2am in frigid weather just to see him again. You wondered when exactly you had become so enamored with the man. When you first made eye contact through his mask in the deep woods? When he gifted you a tape that he had apparently filmed only you on? Maybe it was that night he lifted your chin, calloused fingers holding you firmly, and called you a 'sweet little temptation'. When you asked what he meant by that you only got silence in return.

You didn't know when exactly he started haunting your every thought. Nor why he did in the first place. You didn't even know his real name. Your parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew you spent most of your nights in the woods with a strange man that carried a gun and pill bottles with the labels ripped off. If they saw you hesitantly take the cigarette he offered you, only to choke your lungs up at the first hit. You had no interest in smoking, only in sharing the object between each other's lips. You could practically hear your mother scoffing in your ear every time you watched a man that was most likely mixed in with something dangerously illegal comb his hand through his dark hair–leading you further into the woods.

A shadow shifted in the outskirts of your vision, drawing your attention. You recognized his scuffed boots, the only part of him that was uncovered under the various streetlights that lined the sidewalk. The sight of him slowly stepping out from the dark and into your view made your heartbeat pick up, the goosebumps on your arms now not only just because of the cold. He stood silently. Completely still, waiting for you to join him. That was how all your nights started, the masked man waiting for you to come to him.

You attempted to walk towards him at a steady pace, nervously wondering if you seemed too eager. It was hard not to rush at him after not seeing him for two days.

"Hi," you whispered shakily, cringing at how it came out. The cold coupled with your nerves was doing wonders to your voice. He only grunted, shedding his heavy jacket and draping it over your shoulders and the jacket you already had on. The gesture did equal things to your heart and core, both your chest and thighs squeezing in tandem.

"What–no! Aren't you cold? It's freezing out here, I can't take your only jacket." Your voice came out shaky once again, and you cursed yourself and the weather.

"'S fine. Don't worry about it." You simultaneously loved and hated that he was a man of very few words. It was part of his charm you knew, but you would love to hear his voice more often. It was a deep raspy tone, low and even.

"Of course I'm gonna worry about it. It's, like, freezing out here and only dropping more by the hour. You'll get frost bitten if I steal this from you." You had stopped shaking, the jacket not only thick and well insulated, but warmed from his own body heat. It smelled of him, and it took a lot for you to not bring it up to your nose and smash your face in it like a love struck school girl.

His only response was to grab your hand, surprising you, and snake it up his t-shirt. You squealed–embarrassingly–as he held your flattened palm against his chest. He was burning hot it seemed like, your cold hand a stark opposite against his own temperature. "See? 'M warm. Keep it on." You could only nod, thankful that the cold had already warmed your face long ago. You savored the feeling of his bare skin against your palm, feeling almost physically pained as you pulled away.

He turned and started walking towards the woods, pulling his mask on over his face as you both stepped over past the treeline and into the almost pitch black of the forest. You were grateful the moon was so bright, other nights you were a stumbling mess, barely able to see the ground in front of you. You followed him almost expertly, your months of shared exploration now carved into your limbs as you climbed after him over fallen trees and dodged spiderwebs that slipped into your pathway. You loved the silence, it allowed you to hear his breathing clearly. Although that thought made you feel a bit creeper-ish.

"What have you been doing?" You broke the silence, trying to keep your voice down as you knew by now that everything sounded louder in the woods at night.

"Busy." Right. You huffed, waiting for more than that. You hummed, prompting a better response from him.

"Had stuff to take care of. Nothin' you need to worry your pretty little head over." Your heart swooned over the slight term of endearment, not bothering to think about how he was still being secretive.

"I do worry about you though." You frowned. Would he think you were being overbearing? Overstepping, maybe? You shuddered at the thought, opting to not say anything else just in case. If he distanced himself from you because of your over involvement you'd probably hate yourself forever.

He hummed, stopping to pull a cigarette from the crushed pack in his pocket. His hands reached up to slip off the mask and you watched with baited breath, as always. You could never get enough of seeing the face under his mask. He flicked his lighter, the flame dancing around in the dark. You were impressed he lasted this long without a cigarette. Usually he had one lit before he came to meet you. You breathed in the scent of the nicotine smoke that floated in your direction, seemingly unbothered. You used to hate the smell, but it's something entirely different on him. It took on a new form in his presence. Maybe it was the allure of how his fingers flicked at the lighter, or the way the tiny flame reflected in his eyes. You'd never been attracted to men that smoked, much less the act of it. It was a disgusting habit is what you had been taught all your life. You had been taught a lot of things that you were now rebuking these past few months.

"Are we going somewhere?" Normally the answer would be something along the lines of 'wherever,' or, 'just walkin'.' He might take you to a sketchy abandoned building, something like a hospital. Sometimes a clearing, other times a steady stream. Once, it was a river that you dipped your feet into and talked in front of for hours.

"You wanna go somewhere?" You paused. That was a new one. He flicked his cigarette, lightly squashing the fallen ash under his boot. Any words you may have said escaped you. Was he serious?

"There are places to go?" The question was tentative. His gaze met yours and you froze in place, always mesmerized by the way he looked at you.

"If you want to. I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, pretty." He shrugged, seemingly unaware of the backflips that were happening in your chest.

"Aren't you cold yet? It's been a good hour now." You watched him carefully, noting how he still wasn't shivering. No goosebumps lined his arms, unlike you who was wearing two jackets and still had a tremor to your voice. You weren't sure if that was necessarily because of the cold though.

He raised an eyebrow as if asking you if you were serious. He nodded you over as he took another puff, his other hand reaching out for yours. Hesitantly, you let him grab your wrist, only for him to tug you towards him abruptly. He placed his cigarette back between his lips, one extremely warm hand slipping under your shirt and pressing against your lower back, pulling you into him. He pushed your hand up his t-shirt again, but you weren't anymore prepared this time. The feeling of his warmth against your hand had your head spinning in circles, the feel of his calloused fingers spread open just above your ass driving you wild in a way you'd never thought possible.

"Do I feel cold yet?" You were at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing in shock. You could barely shake your head no. You didn't miss the way the corner of his mouth ticked upwards, only for a moment. Your mind that was racing in a million different directions halted the second you felt his hand move along your skin to squeeze your hip and stay there. He pulled your closer until your body melded against his, completely stealing the air from your lungs. He had your ear pressed against his chest, his heartbeat loud and clear.

"Wha-? Why are we standing like this?" You didn't dare pull away, your voice coming out as a tentative whisper. Barely audible. You felt his hot breath on the top of your head as he spoke.

"You're cold, aren't you? You're shivering. You don't like it?" The question made you pause. Of course you liked it. You'd never forget this moment or the way his rough hands felt as they squeezed your bare hip. The way his body heat wrapped around you left you feeling wildly desperate.

"It's not that." It would never be that.

"No? Then tell me you like it." His voice sounded lower than usual. You fought the embarrassment of saying something like that outloud.

"What's that matter?" You mumbled the words like they were poisonous–the poison being pure shame.

He hummed, ashing his cigarette and freeing his hand back up so that both could be slipped under your shirt and clasped onto your body. He dragged his fingertips up your spine and back down, his other hand slipping down to cup your ass.

"You don't like it and I'll let you go. You want me to let go?"

"I...," you trailed off, the nervousness seeping into your voice plainly. He only hummed, prompting you to try again. Your hesitation made him begin to pull back, and the loss of his warmth had your fingers clutching his shirt, attempting to hold him there as you tired again.

"I like it." Your words were said quietly–slowly, even–as if it would make it less embarrassing if you took your time with them.

He didn't say a word to what felt like a filthy confession in your mind. His only response was physical, his hands returning and only getting braver. You remained clutching at his shirt as he trailed a hand higher and higher up your back, lightly dragging his nails up and under the straps of your bra. You buried your head in his chest, embarrassed and panicked as you felt him undo the clip that held it together.

"Tell me that's okay." You knew he was referring to the undone bra, but your words felt like jello as they tried and failed to come out. You could only nod, face still hidden.

He grabbed your chin unexpectedly, dragging your face up to meet his. You were sure you looked anything but composed, unlike him.

"If it's okay then tell me with your words. Use your mouth." Your mind immediately turned dark with the things you could use your mouth for, face burning at the thought. Your thoughts swirled as his other hand slowly slipped past your waistband slowly, just teasing the skin there.

"It is." You could barely get that out without shifting your gaze anywhere else besides his face. He leaned down to your ear, letting go of your chin to slip another hand up the front of your shirt. Your thighs clenched as your felt his hand stop just between your breasts, teasing the skin there. Your skin was lit with anticipation unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

"Tell me that with your words then. Go ahead." You couldn't believe he was making you say it again. You didn't think you were strong enough.

"I...," you started, the words dying in your throat as you watched his eyes stare into what was probably your soul. "I've never done this before." You shifted nervously, wondering if that would change anything. You being inexperienced in this way at this age was embarrassing.

"I'll make you feel good. You don't want me?" He was all you wanted.

"I want you," the words shook as they came out, but they were there nonetheless. "It's okay...for you to touch me." That seemed to be all he needed–in the next few seconds his mouth was latched to your neck, kissing and sucking as his fingers moved to unbutton your pants. You weren't sure what to do with your hands as he moved down your shoulder with his mouth.

He pulled your shirt up, telling you to hold the hem in your mouth as he pulled your pants down, accidentally pulling your underwear with them. You'd never felt so exposed in your life as he flipped your positions to have your back against the tree he was previously leaning on. Your undone bra was slipping off your shoulders, leaving your breasts half exposed, nipples peaking out. He had pulled down your pants leaving you completely exposed. You tasted fabric as you continued biting down on the bottom of your shirt, back arching as you watched him cut your bra off. You couldn't have protested if you wanted to.

"You're pretty jus' like this," he whispered lowly in your ear, fingers reaching down to push into your folds, making you whimper as you felt him slowly caress your opening, his fingers slowly pushing in and out, just barely. "With your legs spread, giving it up for a man like me." His words had you pushing your hips closer to him in a vain attempt to get his fingers to finally push inside of you fully. He dropped to his knees, not bothering to give you any warning before he pulled you closer to his face by your hips and licked a stripe up your pussy. You whimpered around the cloth in your mouth, hips jutting closer as he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked, fingers finally pushing up inside of you. You could barely contain yourself as he pushed in and out of you, pushing against your walls. The sting of him adding another finger had you reeling with the pain, only for his mouth to soothe it.

He was mumbling as he ate you, the words mostly too low for you to hear. You could only make out him telling you how you tasted, and the thought of him enjoying that almost had your knees buckling. You had your fists clenched onto his shoulders, grasping at his shirt. You had to fight not to fist his hair and push him further into you. Your hips weren't winning any fights, rolling on his tongue like a woman starved. He pulled away, fingers leaving you empty and clenching on nothing.

You didn't get to question why as he had you soon turned around with your hands pressed against the tree holding you up, your ass bare and sticking up for him. If your legs weren't shaking with what was an almost-orgasm you would have felt more embarrassed. Though as he grabbed you by the throat and rubbed his clothed dick on your ass you were only thinking about how you wanted more. He nipped at your ear, hand reaching around your front to messily play with your clit again.

"You're so wet I could just slip right in. Make a mess of you and fill you up." He sunk his fingers back into you, pumping as you gasped and shook against his body.

"You want me inside yet, pretty?" You moaned at the thought, nodding your head up and down as your hips rolled into his still pumping fingers.

"You sure? I don't have any protection. You still want me to fuck you?" Maybe your brain wasn't working properly, or maybe you really were corrupted because your only response was to push your ass up and arch your back, hands steadying yourself against the tree. You only received a laugh in response, and you thought about how normally you would have felt self conscious about that.

You let out a tiny gasp to yourself as you felt his tip press against you, shaking as he dragged it up and down your folds slowly. He rubbed it over your clit, probably smiling to himself as he watched you come undone over the simplest stimulation.

"Where exactly do you want it?" You could feel the glee in his voice as he said it, obviously pleased with himself.

"Inside." The words sputtered out, leaving you with a confidence you weren't aware was in your possession before today. "Inside me, Masky." He heard your request and granted it easily, pushing his tip against you and slowly slipping inside. Your breathing picked up as you felt the stretch and consequential burn, body tensing and rigid.

His hand slipped under your stomach, his voice low but tense in your ear. "Relax, baby." He smoothed his hands over your waist, maybe attempting to ease the tension there. Luckily for both of you it worked, his hands lighting fireworks anywhere he touched.

He eased into you, fingers finally gracing your clit again, the pleasure soothing a good portion of the burn as he continued to press into you, filling you in a manner that you thought should be impossible. A low groan left his mouth as he bottomed out, a few curses splitting from his lips as he asked if you were ready. You took a brief moment to breathe through the pain–his fingers on you and him being inside of you all at once was causing your brain to short circuit. You weren't sure your mouth and brain were connected at this point, the only sounds that left you now being uncontrolled moans and gasps. Thankfully your hips rolling back into him was enough of an answer in his eyes, and he began moving slowly. You'd never been filled up like this before, the new feeling of him moving inside you was almost addictive.

You were practically singing as he picked up speed, your walls fluttering as he hit seemingly every sensitive spot inside you repeatedly. You were seeing stars with the way he fucked you.

It took more focus than you were currently capable of to hold yourself up, the more he slammed into you the more jello-like your legs became. As you began slipping he wrapped his arms around you, bringing your back flush with his chest with no pause to the almost rhythmic pace, his movements unrelenting. You could have collapsed as he teased your clit, your orgasm slowly approaching. You were practically throbbing with desire as he fucked up into you, his mouth latching onto your neck. You could barely move your hips to meet him halfway anymore, the exhaustion beginning to set in. Although he seemed perfectly fine doing it all on his own, his movements never ceasing for a second as he cursed in your ear, his words barely making any sense to you.

It was a string of filithy compliments, sweet praises for you and disgustingly lewd comments about how you felt wrapped around his dick. You couldn't make sense of much, far too focused on the way you fluttered around him, your walls clenching as you rose higher and higher towards an orgasm. Your breathing came heavy as he fucked into you faster, your mewling and newly tensed legs signaling to him what was fast approaching. He circled and teased your clit relentlessly, encouraging you with words full of filith.

"I-I'm, I can't–Masky!" You couldn't push the words out, all your attention on the way your stomach coiled as your release got closer. Your hips were back to rocking against him, chasing the feeling and spreading your legs further to give him more room.

"Love when you say my name, go ahead and scream it for me." You did just that, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and a song all in one. His place slowed as he kissed down your neck and shoulder, leaving marks behind and praising you endlessly. He fucked you through it as you slowly came down, his praise only serving to light you on fire again. You'd never heard him speak so much, much less to compliment you like this. He slipped out, the emptiness not doing as much to you as the immediate burn you felt afterwards.

"Wait, you didn't cum?" You questioned him worriedly, horrified at the thought that maybe he didn't enjoy it. He only laughed, motioning towards your legs. You looked down and only then did you feel the sticky wetness that slowly dripped from your entrance and down your thighs. You had no idea when he came or how he continued afterwards, but the evidence was clear.

“Not a chance in hell I wasn't cumming with you choking out my dick like that.” That comment had your face heating, as if you weren't already flushed and sweaty despite the cold. You nervously met his eyes, wondering what exactly this changed. Would he still want to meet with you like you had been for the past few months? Or was he done with you now that he'd gotten something? You figured worrying about this when you hadn't even pulled your pants up from where they laid at your ankles was a bit premature, but your brain didn't seem to agree.

You didn't have to worry for long though, Masky didn't waste any time in pulling you to his mouth, practically devouring you where you stood. You'd never been kissed like that in your life, his teeth biting at your lower lip as his hand held your head in place, pressed against him. He pulled away only after you began squirming, watching you with a satisfied gaze as you gasped for breath.

“Do you regret it?” You faltered, surprised he was the one asking that and not you. “Huh?” is all you managed to sputter out. Speaking didn't seem to be your strong point tonight.

“Do you regret me?” You shook your head almost violently, protests falling out of your mouth now in a jumbled mess. You couldn't believe he'd ever think that, as if you weren't just screaming his name against a tree of all things.

He hummed, watching you slowly rise from pulling up your bottoms. “That's good, ‘cause even if you did it wouldn't matter much.” He twirled a strand of your hair absentmindedly, his eyes locked on yours in a way that could only remind you of a predator. “You're mine now. Entirely.” Maybe you should feel put off–scared, even–at his words and the tone he says them in. The only thing you feel instead is pure, undiluted joy in the fact that he's claimed you so confidently. You'd never imagined being with a man that was clearly dangerous in so many ways, but something about him had changed you fundamentally as a person. Him or something about him had done something to you and your nature. Something irreparable.

[iicarused]

he’s my man

masky tim wright x reader / unedited

synopsis: being tim’s girlfriend before marble hornets / otherwise, being antisocial dorks who only understand each others humour

requested by: @nowonlydogs

you guys were high school sweethearts!! everyone knew you both were made for each other after a simple click

it was in music class and the teacher couldn’t shut the both of you up

silly teenagers in a world where you would have to grow up — but that was okay, because you had tim by your side

though, people believed you guys were rushing into this whole “relationship” thing after 8 months of being friends

especially your parents

but you both were just too inseparable from that point on. your small friend groups coming together after realizing that you two aren’t giving up

planning college life together, where to live, but very insistent that you both work at separate jobs. it was a funny sight for your peers to see the both of you sat at opposite ends in class

“we need our personal space! i see that man as soon at the clock hits 4!” you joked

“it’s not like we’re broken up — we’re going to the diner after class.” tim would reason

college came fast, the the idea of a small apartment sounded nicer than the dorms.

you both would do everything together: picking out furniture, grocery shopping, a weekly chore list, a cooking schedule, and realizing you don’t have enough funds so you both grudgingly go to your parents’ for financial help. (they didn’t mind at all)

you both would grow up with each other, from angsty teens who hated cooking to confused young adults reading from recipes book to cook a simple dish

you watched him grow up. he often asked you to trim his hair — in return, he would walk to the nearest coffee shop each morning to get you your favourite drink

college was a start, especially since your schedules never seemed to line up.

the apartment was oddly quiet without tim

by each weekend, you both would be in bed and watching a movie. his new friend, brian, would tease tim for already being an old married couple

being tim’s girlfriend before marble hornets was a slow, but a very loving time of your life

he was the most genuine man you could have ever fallen in love with. kisses each morning and night to cooking supper every other day together

he was your other half and number one, and somewhere down the line, it seems you had lost him after a measly audition for a friends film

[scary-lasagna]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could request the proxies (separately) reaction to seeing their s/o all dressed up and absolutely taking their breath away?

A few hours late today, but they love you and they're all head-over-heel buffoons

Masky

He just

stares.

He's not a huge talker, or someone to express his feelings.

But staring will suffice.

And no matter how wind-burned his cheeks are, the blush never fails to seep through and pet at his ears as well.

Maybe he'll reach out to put a hand on your waist, and decide against it.

He wouldn't want to ruin any hard work you've put into this stunning art display.

His hand will ghost over your body, too afraid to touch you, but you can still feel the warmth of his love radiating from his hands.

His eyes won't leave you the entire night, and whenever you happen to glance at him, his eyes are always trained on you.

And no matter how much he's dressed up, Masky will always shut down your compliments and focus on you instead.

Hoodie

Immediate possessiveness.

He's always got a hand on you, holding you close to him even after your attempts to swat his hands away.

And he's just so touchy-feely, with kisses, gentle touches, hugs, fixing your clothes/hair.

He's head over heels for you, and you love that dopey look in his eyes that tell you so.

No matter how many times he mumbles ' I love you' into your neck as he hugs you for the 42nd time tonight.

Toby

Bro just starts weeping.

He feels so unworthy of your presence, your love, everything about you.

Toby is a blubbering mess trying to tell you how amazing you look, and how he's so lucky to be in love with you, and how the lighting is complimenting your eye color, and-

You stop him, and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek while he unceremoniously snorts his weepyness back into his nose.

You guide him to calm down somewhat, and you find that he cannot take his eyes off of you, admiring all of the little details you've put into your outfit.

[teethcake]

creepypasta doodles from the beginning of the year i never posted

[willowswiththorns]

I see Marble Hornets and humbly ask for Masky, yandere or the nsfw alphabet whichever one you feel more comfortable writing I will graciously accept pleaseeeee!!!

Now usually I’ll do one or the other, but I’m a big fan of Masky/Tim. So I’m gonna do yandere this time since there’s not a lot of that. This will follow a bit under the Slenderverse ( marble hornets ) version of Masky and not too much into the Creepypasta Masky version. I’ll be picking some stuff out of both overall, but mostly leaning toward Marble hornets. Thank you sm for requesting! - Willow

Warnings :, slight dub-con( if you squint) , captivity , Stockholm syndrome, restraints, murder, stalking, minors do not interact

Masky/Tim Wright Yandere A-Z

YANDERE A-Z first

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Masky and Tim equally don’t know how to show affection properly, so when it’s shown, it’s very very intense.

Masky mostly has a hard time emotionally speaking on his love towards you. You’ll mostly have physical contact from him. ( him holding you down and not letting you go)

Tim is the opposite side of the coin. He’s a bit awkward when it comes to showing physical affection, but he tries his best to show his love to you verbally.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Masky has no problem with spilling blood if it means you stay with him forever. He’ll kill anyone that gets in his way from his goal, you.

Tim isn’t much for killing, he’s the type to not do it unless it’s a necessary action. I.e. self defense.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I’ve seen a lot of fanfics where Masky is kind and caring. That’s not it here I’m sorry.

Masky is definitely the type to belittle and mock you while you are under his care. If you can call it that

Masky is more ruthless than most think. He will tie you down if need be. He doesn’t want you trying to run away from the cabin he’s hid you in.

If you are a fighter, he takes his time with you. He will knock you over and make you struggle to try and get up. He will force you to look at him whenever just to show you he is in control.

Tim isn’t going to mock you, in fact he feels a lot of guilt abducting you. He definitely tries to make up for the time his other side kicks in. He has little to no memory when Masky is in control, he only knows what happens when you tell him, or when Brian tells him.

Either way, Tim feels a lot of remorse for your situation, but it’s not like he’s going to up and let you go.

He secretly likes that you’re stuck with him, he’ll blame Masky for everything that goes wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to do anything about it.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Masky will take out any of his pent up frustration onto you ( sexually mostly) that or he’ll pull your hair just to make you tear up.

Tim does his best to respect any boundaries you set. The only one that he tends to cross is whenever he wants to hold you in his arms. This burly man just wants to feel you in his arms , and he can’t help himself.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Masky bares nothing to his love. He’s not even emotionally in check with himself, how would he be able to be open with his victim partner?

Tim has a lot of trouble opening up to his love, but all it takes is one time for him to tearfully open up about

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Masky can and will rock your shit if you tried to fight him. He does not care one bit if you get knocked out or have a concussion after this match, this man fights to win.

Tim doesn’t want to deal with any fighting , the most he’ll do is to try and stop you from hitting him. He’ll grab your wrists or ankles to stop him from hitting or kicking him. A frown would be very apparent on his face as he’s asking you to stop trying to hurt him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This isn’t a game to either of them. Both just want you to accept their love. Tim just wants you to accept their love and accept him as who he is while Masky doesn’t care if you love him or not, he just wants control over you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Masky will put you through hell a lot. The most specific time where life was made a living hell for you was when you tried to run away. You got a good bit away from the cabin, but got envitably lost in the woods.

It wasn’t until you bumped into Brian, who picked you up and dragged you back to Masky.

Once Masky came back to the cabin after trying to find you, he waited for Brian to leave before dragging you to the back room.

He’d strip you down and put a chain around your ankle tightly. Letting you have just amount of length from the chain to roam around the empty room and to the bathroom.

He’d leave you in that dark back room to starve for a few days. It won’t be until the 3rd day that he lets you out, waiting for you to beg for food. Masky is petty enough to probably eat food in front of you just to make you angry. Of course once you apologize for running away and swearing to stay by his side will he finally give you food and unchain you.

Tim’s worst moment is when you tell him you hate him for the first time. He’d react negatively, not knowing what to say, he’ll just avoid you because he can’t handle the idea of you hating him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Neither of them truly have an idea for the future, given their current position with the operator /slenderman, the future isn’t really guaranteed. Tim wants to atleast one day have a family with you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Masky definitely gets jealous, he tends to take out his jealousy onto you physically though.

Tim doesn’t take his jealousy onto you physically, he will get pouty and demand for reassurance that you love and need him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Masky is very cruel with his darling, his kisses are rough and feral. He doesn’t give you time to breathe and he doesn’t let you try to pull away either.

Tim wants you to feel safe and comfortable with him. He wants you to want to kiss him. His kisses are gentle and warm. His lips taste like smoke and coffee

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Masky doesn’t really court, he just hunts

Tim is more courting, he’s just awkward about it. He’d start by watching your routine, seeing what you like and dislike. He wants you to see him as the perfect suitor for you. He’ll try to bump into you at a coffee shop or a store you like.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

They’re both the same around everyone else for the most part, except their affections are only for you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Masky will full on throw hands with you or isolate you.

Tim will scold you and at very very worse maybe lock you in both of y’all’s room if you’re acting up.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Masky will take away a lot of rights from you. This man is all about having power over you. So little freedoms like walking around the cabin freely or maybe going outside even takes a lot of time to be given those rights back.

Tim doesn’t like taking rights away, but if you push him, you’ll lose a lot of rights . He’ll sorta gaslight you into understanding why your rights are being taken away for your own good.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Masky has little to no patience. He’s not the soundest of men. He will snap and blow up on you if you act up.

Tim is more patient depending on his headspace. If he’s in a bad mood, he’s very short and snappy with you. If he’s in a good mood, he’s much more patient and understanding with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Masky will move on easily since he’s not really emotionally attached to you. Now if you ran away, he’d take pleasure in hunting you down. Just expect to be heavily punished when he enviably catches you.

Tim will not move on from you ever. He loves you and will blame himself if you die. If you run away, he’ll panic and call Brian for help in catching you. The imagine of these two men hunting you down can be very terrifying or very hot if you’re into a good chase.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Tim is the only one who feels regret. There would only be one time where his judgment would lapse and he would consider letting you go, but he’s quick to come to his senses and get rid of that option.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Definitely his upbringing, but definitely post Marble hornets can play a part in his fear of losing someone. So the fear of losing you could push him to abduct you. He just wants to protect you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Masky couldn’t care less. He won’t let you have any ounce of control when it comes to isolating yourself from him. He’ll tie you down before letting you get away with ignoring him. He enjoys hearing you scream and seeing you cry, he loves seeing your reactions.

Tim’s heart breaks a little anytime he sees you cry. He doesn’t like seeing you suffer any way, especially when he knows he’s playing a role in your suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Masky is incapable of being a classic yandere. He doesn’t love you, he’s obsessed with you and wants to have control over you. He will kill anything you love just to have you.

Tim isn’t delusional, he knows what he’s doing is wrong, he just wants you reciprocate his feelings.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Tim’s weakness is his guilt over having you captive here and because he’s opened up about his past regrets ( Jay’s death) if you exploit that , there’s a slim chance where he’d let you have the option to go. Of course; he’ll instantly regret giving you that choice and try to take it back. If you run away before he does change his mind, that’s your free ticket out.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Masky would 100% hurt you just to make you scared. He wants to display that he is stronger and faster than you.

Tim will never willingly hurt you, he adores you too much to wish any sort of harm onto you. He tends to try and clean up any wounds you’d have after interacting with Masky.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Masky doesn’t care about winning you over, he just wants you to fear him and let him have control over you.

Tim will try to win over your heart over and over again. He wants you to willingly be with him, and will actively try to show you that being with him is the best way.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Both don’t take too long to pine after you. The part before they’d snap is longer solely because they’re spending time stalking you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Masky will 100% break you if you push him too hard. He wants full control over you.

Tim will definitely not want to break you, he wants you to love him willingly

[cherri3berri3s]

Bull in the Heather Pt.1┃Ticci Toby x reader

Warning: maybe brief mentions of self-harm, in-depth descriptions of manic episodes, active violence, verbal/physical abuse + drug use

Synopsis: After your bipolar boyfriend is placed in the psych ward on account of murder, you're faced with the task of understanding why and more importantly, what forces are leading to his odd behaviors?

Word count: 3k+ words Category: angst

Death plagues my senses.

Various flickering lights scattered across the dense room as the bright contrast etched into my memory. The white plastered walls were muddied with the occasional grease stain and random droplets of blood, more than likely a result of a petty fight from at least one of the patients. Not to mention the smell reeked of old urine and medical supplies, almost like being shoved inside a ginormous latex glove. 

They say it goes against human nature to ignore death and walk right to it, yet I still find myself rushing to embrace even the slightest glimpse of it. The sound of my flats obnoxiously clacking against the imperial textured floor strains my ears, making each step that more nauseating.

I feel sick. Almost as though my stomach could spill any second knowing what I know now. And still, I'm here to see him.

Walking eagerly down the dingy hallway, a man in blue right at my side. I feel the pressure of his gaze watching each movement I've drawn to make. Stopping abruptly at an isolated door, his calloused hands dashed straight to the keys buried deeply within his pockets.

"He's been raging like a bitch in heat for a couple of days now," the man before me remarked, a small hint of a southern accent peaking in between words. "Just don't do anything stupid enough to make the aftermath my problem."

" Trust me, it doesn't matter what I do," I announce, an eyebrow raised as my eyes dart to the name tag hung near his chest. "Watching him, you'll understand soon enough."

A vivid chuckle escapes his lips. Unfazed yet humored by the words that cheekily spilled from my mouth. Like clockwork, the clicking sound of the now-unlocked door rings throughout the hall. His hands impatiently awaiting my response to turn the knob.

"You think you can handle this one, don't you."

" I think I got this from here on out… 'Mr. Wright'." 

As sudden as it was, the door flew open. Revealing two other staff standing firmly on either side of  Toby; unburdened by the underlying unruliness of his demeanor. Sitting amongst the room of empty seats and active surveillance was none other than the one person I traveled all this way to see, the one person I needed so desperately to be near.

As each vigorous step loudly ricochets throughout the near-empty room, the only active movement other than mine was Toby's eyes furiously following my every move. His body remaining as still as it was long before I entered the room.

Seated across from him, I felt dejected. The sorrow in the situation briskly destroying the little pieces of admiration I'd been holding onto just for him. All the while those eyes I've grown to cherish seemed even more lifeless and dull than they did before. 

"Hi baby"  I said lightly. My gaze fixed upon the man I could've sworn I was beginning to understand even the tiniest bit.

His elbows laid across the table as support, bringing forth his scarred body just inches closer to mine. Our faces leveled to each other as a bewildered grin met his expression. 

"You worthless bitch." He says between gritted teeth, that smirk never faltering. "Don't walk your prissy ass on over here thinking we're gonna play house just that easily." He spat, lingering closely before slowly sliding back into his seat. His brows remained furrowed as his body simultaneously looked both calm and tense. His intense stare stuck on me in deep thought.

"...You put me here." He claims with surety.

"The police put you here-"

"You told them to bring me here,"

"It was either that or jail," I add harshly. The air in the room growing thinner as my once active attempt at being nonchalant slowly began to vanish.

"I still don't know what you are," I delicately claim, not once removing my eyes from the person in front of me. "And I still don't know what you do either," I pressed on. Focused on his abstract mannerisms. "But I'd be damned if after all of this you'd still want to hold what I don't know against me." I finished, irritated and worried.

"You'll know exactly what I can be once he's found me." He asserts, an eerie yet light-hearted smile meets his lips. His brows finally softening in its wake.

"Who's he Toby?"

"Him; The operator. The operator and all his little-" He begins, shortly raving on as I shake my head in detest. Uttering 'no' continuously out into the open.

"Not this 'operator' bullshit again,"

"He made me what I am," He proudly voices, almost confused as to why I despised the thought. "As perfectly fucked as it is, I can't wait for him to change you too."

"Don't tell me this shit! Toby, these police fucks found human remains linked back to you and all I've been trying to do is get your nut ass back home." I bitterly voiced. Toby's now partial silence and unmoving expression eating away at my thoughts. "Don't tell me this 'operator' bullshit is the reason."

"Not possible…" He confusedly says. Without warning, he leaps out of his seat, yanking my arm to move my body closer to his regardless of the table barrier. The staff unhesitantly sprinting to action yet soon stopping at my gesture against it. Leaning into my ear, Toby whispers-

"How can a body be found when I've burned them all."

"I never said how they found the body…" I reason in a low voice. My eyes never leaving his even after his fast-paced movements. Locked in his stupefied daze, I continue, " I know you're guilty, but right now,  I want you back home anyways." Our bodies trapped in an unmoving touch beginning to soften with his now lighter grip. "Just tell me why baby, tell me how to help you-"

"The cops tell you to say that?" His head tilts, smirk returning to his cheeks."Bad enough your ungrateful ass is why we're sitting here to begin with, right?" The grip he held on my arms once again continued to tighten, rage displayed all throughout his brown pupils.

"Not even a fucking fool with a dick for brains and a head between their thighs would wanna find their way home with you." Arrogantly, he plops down into his seat. Everyone else in the room left standing and on edge.

"Y'know, you've changed everything but the fucking situation at hand, and come to think I thought you were smarter than this Y/n." 

Glaring upwards, his clenched teeth continued to expose his thoughts.

"I know my place in this world, and it will always be by The operator."

Steadily, I found my way back onto my seat. Arms crossed just as the curly haired brunette across from me. "Why choose a life in all of this when you know damn well I've been loving you." I say, soft-spoken as his expression remained unfazed.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to play dress up too?" he chuckles, sneering as he looks me up n' down. "You wouldn't know what love is even if it fucked you to sleep every night."

"Tobias," I breathily utter, despondent in my approach. "Just help me understand this shit and I swear I'll get you outta here."

Playfully, he states "You think I've been needing you? You think I fucking want your help?"

"I think you're forgetting every sacrifice I have made and will continue to make for you." Leaning into the table, my arms still linked together, I assertively imply "You can kill me if you think I'd let it all stop right here."

"Well then, I guess you can add one more body to the list. You'd be a good human only if you were a dead one anyways, right my love?" He leans in closer, the table keeping us both distanced yet barely disengaged.

"Tell me now, what is 'The operator'?"

"May he have mercy on what's left of you after they're done." Toby muttered, leaning comfortably back in his chair. "Es ist zeit mein Vögelchen." He relays, a void yet cocky expression overtaking every inch of his face.

"You're a piece of work, Toby." 

Without a second to spare, one of the lingering staff swoops in. Tapping my shoulder to signal that they did indeed want me out of the hospital room. 

Swiftly getting up from my seat, I couldn't help but look to my lover one last time. His signature black gloves were long confiscated, exposing the tears in the brittle flesh of his hands from excessive biting. The gash in his cheek covered with gauze and medical adhesive tape preventing him from moving to the next best thing when it comes to his picking habits. 

As pained as I remained seeing him in such a bland and revealing setting, I couldn't help but get this twinge of understanding telling me that he was cleaner and possibly far healthier than before. 

Realizing I'd been distracted by my brief observations, I avoid settling the score, opening my mouth to speak to him once more.

"Is this your final choice?"

"Fuck you." He spit. Anger and aggression seeping from his lips in a final attempt to draw me away. The guard escorts me back to the main entrance impatiently as an air of embarrassment hit my cheeks.

Nearly stumbling out the door, I adjust my leather trench coat and place on my metal oval sunglasses. 

'What a waste of my fucking time. I already knew he would try pushing the buttons.'

"Y'know, even I could've told you that he's been manic all damn week." 

Shooting my head towards the unknown yet familiar voice, I immediately realized it was the same asshole who escorted me in.

"Oh wait, I think I actually did." He sarcastically shrugged, leaning against the entrance wall.

"Oh yeah? Well I think I need a fucking smoke." I pessimistically added. Reaching straight for my coat pocket.

"Well now you're talking my language, what kind?"

"Virginia slims." I said smoothly. Flickering the lighter until it sparked on the tip of the cigarette.

"Virginia slims? Might as well get you some Parliaments."

"Yuck," I exclaimed, making a feigned face of disgust. "You insult me."

Undoubtedly, the two of us erupted in a brief fit of chuckles. Amused by the other's bitchiness at such a time of momentary significance. However, the now swift silence ate quickly at the other's tongues. Leaving what felt like an odd bubble of time to speak what's really been on our minds.

"So, you come out here dressed like Carrie Moss and wonder why you get thrown back to the door?" He addresses. An eyebrow raised; less in a questioning way as much as it was humorous.

"That's far from what happened."

"Oh right, he told you about The Operator first, then kicked you out." 

Almost instinctively, my head speedily bolts back up to his face. Ignoring the cigarette lazily hanging from my mouth as I snatched it with both my pointer finger and my thumb.

"Sounds like he knew you'd bite off more than you could chew." He finishes. Pretending to analyze the situation as though he'd discovered the secret of the year.

"So what are you saying," I sputtered out intensely. No longer shying away from the truth that this guy knows something. "He thinks he's helping me?" 

"How charming of him." He smirks, indirectly answering my question. "Gee- I didn't think his balls were full grown."

Without a chance to process, he pulls out his own cigarette. The bent pack of Marlboro reds still shining in the afternoon light. "Before you got here he was just a twitching- time bomb with a strange habit of stuttering." Lighting up the cig, he takes one long inhale before releasing the strong vapor into the air. "I didn't think he'd control it the way he did just to tear you a new one."

" Correct me if I'm wrong," I rushed in, slight confusion riddling my face as my motives for understanding the situation changed. "But I didn't know hospital staff were allowed to dabble in their patients' personal lives. If that's what you are, Tim Wright." 

" I suppose," He said, placing the cig back onto its resting spot on his lips. Silence overtaking the mood once again, leaving only thoughts to fester.

Turning back around, I place my attention towards fetching my car keys to immediately get the fuck up outta there. Walking with haste, I momentarily stop to respond.

"Well it was nice fucking around but-" Briefly turning back, I realized that… he's gone. '...How freaky.'

Making it to my car, a white lined piece of paper remained folded onto my windshield. Hesitantly, I snatch the sheet straight off. Flipping it to see the bold words written in black Sharpie.

'He's always watching' Underneath, the note's signed by Tim. 

"How sweet," I snidely whispered. Paranoia and worry getting to my head.

A faint hint of gas drifts past my nose, wafting in the air alongside a more savory smell. Cans of diced tomatoes and marinara lay empty as scraps of cheese littered the counter. The T.V. in the next room serving only as background noise to keep my head temporarily occupied.

A full week had passed since I'd last seen Toby, and as tough as it was, I had gone on convincing myself that it wasn't too bad. Just more ominous and lonely than usual.

My phone rested on my ear as I remained attentive in a short-lived conversation with my mother. Extremely tired of the bullshit 'I told you so' responses I had been getting. It only took a day and a half for word to get around that Toby got thrown in the psych and suddenly, this woman couldn't stop blowing up my phone.

Dusting off my hands, I listened to her unfiltered banter as my arms crossed to my chest.

"I always knew I gave birth to a fucking felon. Had you done as I said almost two years ago now you'd still be home you rotten bitch! "

Pacing the floor in my white baby tee and low-rise bell-bottom jeans, I measly affirmed her every word. "You've done nothing but bring shame to me and break our family apart! All for that basket-case you laid up with, "

Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes. Harboring the truth of what I'd actually wanted to say, opting to only listen to her mouth run instead.

"You're an unwanted embarrassment that's made herself some psycho's TRAMP !"

"Ma," I said in a serious yet unfazed tone, "Have you been taking your meds?"

"Oh, so NOW I must be crazy for saying what I think needs to be said?"

Chuckling lightly, I switch my phone to my opposite ear. Amused by my mothers' rampage and active attempts to ignore my current concerns.

"Not crazy; unmedicated mama."

As she huffed in annoyance, her constant shifting can be heard on the other end. "I can't believe you're the only one of my children to do this to me."

"Do what ma? Talk?" I jokingly pressed on. An unintentional smile meeting my face. "Look, If you need more antipsychotics I'll gladly give you mine. Just go bake a cake or something. Maybe sniff some crayons…" 

"Listen here you ungrateful bitch, just bring the pasta you made over and…blah blah blah." Was all I heard amidst her next response.

 Interrupted by a deafening crash upstairs, my movements came to an immediate halt. Glass toppling over and crackling into tiny pieces echoes over the static of my phone. Sharp crunching can be heard as another set of footsteps resound throughout the whole house. Dauntingly, it stops near the stairs in complete silence.

If there was one thing I could thank Toby for doing, it was stressing about my safety so much that he taught me self-defense. Hearing the creaking of the steps, I recognized two male voices. Low and steady, not loud enough to differentiate. Watching idly behind the kitchen wall, I stand close to the archway, knife in hand.

For every step that made its way towards my direction, I positioned myself and prepared to make a silent move. Seeing feet just barely pass the walkway, I swing my arm around in a defective punch drawing attention away from my grasp on the knife.

Expectantly, the unknown visitor ducks away from the punch, discarding the knife as he begins restraining both arms above my head, roughly pinning me against the wall. As my back abruptly slams into the sheetrock, I instinctively lift my leg to kick him in the balls. Watching as he only gasps and clenches my wrist tighter, I lunge towards the guy's neck. Biting down as hard as I could without letting go.

In an instant, I'm yanked from the man by his 'friend' and restrained midair, not yet ready to go down without a fight. Struggling against my captor, I aggressively kick and punch before hearing the two voices word vomit defenses.

"Y/n, baby it's me! Scheiße…"

"Let me the FUCK GO-" I screamed, elbowing the one holding me in the throat.

Backing off towards the wall, I get a clear view of the pair.

Without a doubt, there stood Toby before me. His curly brown hair messily framed his face as he stood on edge and ready. Unlike his hospital attire, he wore a black " Smashing Pumpkins" t-shirt, loose jeans, and some black Vans. Next to Toby grasping his throat in a coughing fit stood a very familiar face as well, still recovering from the massive blow to his neck.

"What the hell Tobias," I said in a stern yet breathless voice. "You dickwads just broke into my fucking house!" I pressed on, beyond angered and befuddled. 

"Well no shit we did!" continued the man in a red flannel, "I'm glad we're all on the same page-"

"I knew you weren't some fucking doctor or whatever bullshit you said you were," I raged on, "You brought this fucking liar to my house?!"

"No, no, I brought Tobias to your fucking house! Now say thank you so we all could fucking move on," Tim sorely stated, rubbing his throat as he exasperatedly stares into my direction.

Side-eyeing the both of them, I calm down just enough to speak through a huffed sigh.

"What are you doing here?" I exhaustedly replied

"Damn, I almost thought you wanted me here," Toby said with a tilted head and a partial smirk on his face.

"Don't fuck with me-"

"I just got out, can I explain this to y-you later?" he brushes off, attempting to walk away.

"No."

"Great," Tim perked up, "Now we can talk about important things. Like how you brought out a damn meat cleaver to chop up dear ole' lover boy to pieces-" he calmly states.

 "I didn't know who the fuck you both were-"

"Well I'm glad you know now," Toby smiled, a gentle laugh escaping his mouth as he sits down on the couch. "I guess I came back here just 'cause I missed you so much" He muttered, tilting his head back to release a prolonged sigh.

"I find that hard to believe." I relay with an unamused look.

"Maybe you w-wouldn't if you were sitting your ass down with me," Looking up at me with wishful eyes, Toby doesn't budge. Taking a deep breath out, I find myself walking over to my boyfriend, his eyes never truly leaving mine as I sat close by.

"Mein vögelchen," he lets out in a soft tone, his eyes fluttering as his doe-eyed expression ate away at my thoughts

"You're an idiot." I breathed out, a distance still marked between us.

"I know," he whispered, his lips curled in an almost saddened reality. Hurt passing right on by as he longingly wanted to say more. "You still like me?"

"If I didn't, you'd probably be chopped n' fed to the neighbors' dog by now." I laughed, garnering a chuckle from Toby himself as he relaxed. "I'm actually surprised I didn't hear any barking this whole time,"

In a heartbeat, the room stilled. Toby looked to the side in a slow yet guilty manner as Tim refocused on the conversation. 

"I had no parts." Tim casually said, irritated nonetheless as he remained still by the window. Looking out occasionally as though there were more to spy on.

"What the fuck did you guys do to the neighbor's dog?" 

"I don't know, maybe you should ask him." Toby said, nodding to the window as if the dog could speak for himself.

"I need a fucking cigarette," I exclaimed, hopping outta my seat to make my way back to the kitchen. "You fuckers still haven't told me why you're here and now you've killed a fucking dog!" I passive-aggressively spit.

"He's not d-dead he's just knocked out," He claims, gesturing for Tim to pass him a light "Our little puppy friend is trippin' off some trazodone from the ward" He mumbles with the cig between his teeth, taking a long ass hit.

"Like that makes it any fucking better!" I add, "Bad enough your ass is already wanted for 'alleged' murder."

"Bad enough I had to break him out of the hospital for that exact same reason," Tim buts in, arm lazily thrown on the wall as he goes back to watching outside the window.

"Un-fucking-believable, un-believable." I shake my head, pissed that I'm now caught in the middle of it. "You need a chaperone and even your chaperone is a fuck up."

"Look, you wanna know why we're here?" Toby nods to me, resting his cigarette between his two fingers. "You wanna know what the fucking operator is?" 

"Yes, I think I actually do."

"Don't be stupid," he bites back, placing his smoke back onto his lips as his next breath in was rugged and deep.

"You have any visitors coming?" Tim questions, my head rushing towards where he stood.

"Hell no,"

"Great, well you both can be stupid later," Tim says, shutting the window and ushering towards the lights in the house. "There's someone on their way here."

Hurriedly burning out the ash on the tip of his shoes, Toby runs up the stairs with familiarity. Hearing a knock roughly shake the door, Tim looks at me, muttering a short plan as he rushes far into one of the rooms upstairs.

Listening to the steps loudly run throughout the house, I'm once again left to face the brief yet unanswered knock at the door.

"Fuck"

A/N: This shit took fucking weeks to finish and I'm far from actually being finished w/ the plot line. Anyway, there's a lot more in the works that I've enjoyed making

You’re free to reblog if you want!

© CHERRI3BERRI3S - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN

[valeskawhore]

IMAGINE:

APOCALYPSE AU?? PROXIES X READER (IDEA!)

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been seeing all around tumblr from my mutuals and honestly, why the hell not? I love the idea of apocalyptic survival. Let me know if this should be a series !!

An eerie creak sounds out behind me as I opened the window, and Dust flooded the dimly lit room as I made my way inside. Exploring abandoned houses wasn't always a typical interest of mine, but staying warm and having a dry place to sleep at night was.

Rain clashed gently down on the roof from outside, crickets could be heard and soon the silence rested back into place when I pulled the cracked window shut from the other side.

This place definitely was not the best, but at least it was dry.

First thing I did was open my backpack, setting up candles and hanging an old sheet that I found laying in the corner, over the window to block out the light.

Repeatedly, I told myself that this was just temporary.

I didn't have enough food to last more than a few nights anyways. Walkers roamed more and more with every passing day, tho winter was coming and it was coming fast.

Hopefully, that would do something to slow the walkers, even if it was just by a few steps, I prayed.

With a sigh, I slowly sat down on the make-shift mattress that I made for myself, hearing my ankles pop in the process because man, I really needed to stretch more often, I'm not getting any younger.

I took off my baseball cap and pulled down my mask to breathe just a little bit clearer, running my fingers through my hair, I noticed how greasy it was. The thought made me disgusted since.. Well, I couldn't even imagine how I smelled and i didnt want to either.

Popping open a bottle of water, I drank my thirst away. Listening to the rain pour, the thunder crack and the sounds of the undead trudging along outside.

As I clenched my eyes shut for a second..

I blocked out the screams, the cries and pleads for help.. The cocking of guns and the growls of the unthinkable tearing and ripping the flesh of the people being eaten alive. My fingernails began to itch, my knuckles on fire, tears welding in my eyes.

“Y/N!!” She screamed, “HELP ME!!” she cried..

I sat my bottled water down, and lit up a cigarette.

“It’ll be ok..” I told myself, “Survive one more day, just one more,” everynight.

“I’ll find you baby.. one day..”

I closed my eyes.. Relaxed my body, breathed out deeply.

“Goodnight y/n” I told myself.

The front door clashed open.

*~*~*~~*~*~*~

“GET INSIDE! GET THE FUCK INSIDE!” A voice screamed. The sounds of the undead gurgled up the last of their life and slammed their heads against the door, screaming. I heard multiple people slamming themselves against the front door, refraining it from opening. “ROGERS, FIND SOMETHING, NOW. WE NEED TO BARD THE DOOR!”

“I-I-M OHN–ON IT!!” Someone stuttered.

I jumped up from my mattress, reaching for my gun and loading in the magazine. I threw the sleeping bag off of me, and unlocked the door. I heard the others rummaging down stairs for something to board the door. I peaked my head out,

Something suddenly rammed against my head, the door was torn open, slamming into my head. I fell back on my ass, and reached around lazily for my gun.

I heard a gasp fall above me, my vision was spinning, but I found my gun and raised it above me at the silhouette. There were two of them, then three, then two, until both shadow figures meshed into one guy. His face was something more,

Two dark brown eyes, greasy chestnut hair, he nose was already bleeding and there was a bandage covering up the right side of his lips stretching to his cheek bones.

He was definitely a young man, 23-24 maybe. Wearing yellow rusted-rimmed goggles, a blue hoodie with a tanned, older jacket overtop, there was a black and gray-ish mask wrapped around his neck and pulled up over his face. The (now) snickering man wore stained blue jeans and some bloodied converse.

His laugh rang out through my skull, pounding against my ear lobes. His eyes became impossibly wide now, canines glimmering in the moonlight as thunder cracked in the background.

With one final sadistic smile,

He picked up his double hand axes and raised them high, His laughter almost screams now, The screams of a hyena, a skinwalker luring its prey.

The young man brought the axes down quickly,

I rolled over with a small scream, doing my best to avoid the hard steel.

I fumbled around on the ground, reaching for my gun.

When I had it in my hand, the man jumped on me and slammed my back into the hardwood floor. The house was so old that dust jumped into the air, and swam around. I clenched my eyes shut and coughed until I could breathe again. I felt his boney hands wrap around my throat, his skin uncomfortably cold and white. I kicked my feet behind him and threw my head back,

The man let up his grip but didn't scream out in pain, his laughter only grew.

I grabbed the boy's hair and threw him off of me, his body collided against the wall,

Because,

His body actually went through it, clashing into the room next to us.

Dust flooded the room once more, and as the psychopath took longer than expected to rise back to his feet, I grabbed my sleeping bag and ran downstairs, contents loosley in hand.

I struggled to throw my jacket on as i ran down the steps,

A shorter figure stepped in front of me, and stuck his leg out, successfully tripping me in the process. I felt my world being flipped upside down as my rib cage cracked against the staircase. I coughed up blood, my heartbeat in my ears as I laid there motionless.

With my vision dark, i could only here throat-ripping screeching from the outside world,

Three figures stepped in my view of the door, I pulled my arms in front of me and did my best to drag my body away. I moaned out in a breath-less cry as I felt the rusted nails sticking out of the wood flooring scraped against my cracked ribs.

Something stopped me, whoever or.. Whatever it was, grabbed my achilles heel and dragged me back in the living room with one strong pull.

They flipped me on my back, blood dripped down the corner of my mouth as I did my best to control my breath. Hesitantly, I reached my hand up and folded my fist into a weak, shaky middle finger, my ‘fuck you’ to the world.

I heard one of them snicker before the tallest one leaned down carefully, dark red painted eyes peered into mine before he pulled off my mask. I had a surge of anger come over me, as I reached to kick him in the balls but he caught my leg, almost expecting it even. His grip tightened menacingly on my thigh, before he gave my cracked rib cage an almost impossibly fast sucker punch.

I coughed out blood on instinct, my body spasming. I held my chest and my body folded forwards, my knees to my chest. “F-fuck you..” I coughed, tears streaming down my face.

His hand, still on my thigh, tightened once more. Leaning close to my face, the stranger whispered..

“What.. do we have here?”

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Guess who rewatched Marble Hornets recently and can't stop thinking about yandere!Masky and yandere!Hoodie.

Warnings: yandere characters; stalking; violence; some spoilers for the series;

  Tim who just feels incurably guilty. 

  Now that he thinks about it, he always felt that way, ever since he can remember. Like he was always at fault for something, even if that something wasn't privy to him. But now, well. He can't ignore where some of the guilt comes from.

  But can you really blame him for being so attached? He already lost so much, especially for someone who never had much to hold on to, to begin with. Still, he knows. He knows he should keep you away from him. And from that strange... Thing, the monster that has followed him since he was child. Or would monsters be a more accurate descriptor? Afterall, the Operator isn't the only danger you face when you choose to keep yourself around Tim.

  Because while Tim may feel guilty, Masky doesn't. Masky knows what he wants, and he always wants it with a precise, pinpoint precision. Does it matter if it's wrong? Well, he too has been wronged! He too didn't ask for this! Why should he deny himself a sliver of happiness, of comfort, when you're right there and already trust him so much? 

  Taking you isn't hard, even if you kick and scream and beg for him to let you go. Why would he? He fails to see the reason. And if you don't stop fighting against him, he might need to take some drastic measures. Yeah, broken bones are a pain to deal with, but nothing you can't handle.

  And Tim? Well... He feels guilty. And he doesn't remember much of what happens when the mask is on. Even at the lowest of rock bottoms, he still mourns the life you would still have if it wasn't for him, the normalcy you two could have possibly shared. He cares for you. But despite everything, you'll never see him truly fight against what he's doing to you, or what he truly wants. Because maybe, in a rather cruel twist of fate, this is what he wanted. 

  Someone to share the pain with.

  Brian, on the other hand, kind of... Doesn't care anymore.

  So much has happened, so much has been taken. At this point why parade around with a false sense of righteousness?

  There's always a certain hint of malice when it comes to Hoodie. He doesn't lament the situation, he doesn't pretend he wishes you had gotten away from him. You're right right he wants you, and friend, he's been just so alone alone alonealonealone.

  He isn't as erratic or prone to violence as Masky, but he's one for torment. To follow you around, to play with your anxieties, to leave messages behind. He's your shadow. And he'll run circles around you until you find yourself digging your own grave.

  But sometimes you see him. You see hints of Brian through the cracks of this husk of a person, he lifts his mask and you see him smile in that very specific way you remember from your friend. You hear him laugh or even crack a stupid joke specifically to see your reaction, which in the new situation you two now live in, feels completely out of place. But his voice sounds wrong. Ragged. There's a hint of venom that follows everything he does.

  He just wants some company. And at this point you both know he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you around.

[darkromanceenthusiast]

Creepypasta Masterlist

NSFW | Headcanon/Multiple Characters

Jeff the Killer

3 a.m. fights

Slender, Jeff, and EJ (seperate) with a chubby s/o

Slenderman

Slender, Jeff, and EJ (seperate) with a chubby s/o

Masky

EJ, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby trying to get reader pregnant

Hoodie

EJ, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby trying to get reader pregnant

Toby

EJ, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby trying to get reader pregnant

Laughing Jack

NSFW Alphabet for LJ and CandyPop

Eyeless Jack

Slender, Jeff, and EJ (seperate) with a chubby s/o

EJ, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby trying to get reader pregnant

CandyPop

NSFW Alphabet for LJ and CandyPop

[creepy-friday]

Can I request cuddle headcanon between the proxy reader and the three proxies? 🥺

Note:The reader is in an established relationship with them!

Proxies cuddles Headcanons

I feel like Hoodie would be the type of lover to always have you close,even if he doesn't touch you

He loves when you lean on his chest while he plays with your hair or kisses your fingers

Brian might also get close to you while you talk to some resident and put his chin on your head to assert his dominance

He loves to pay attention to your hands,that's why whenever the two of you are sleeping next to eachother he would hug your back and caress them

"Will you ever strangle me with those delicate hands of yours,hm?"

Masky on the other hand would need to have his hand on you everytime you two are close

Breaks during missions would have you two next to eachother,leaning on a tree while he has his hand wrapped around your waist

He also drops his guard around you inside your room,that's why he just sits with his head on your lap and either complain about his day or just closes his eyes and enjoy some peace and quiet

Loves when you snuggle close to him in bed."Do you think I am a bad person?" he asked you."Yes." you answered.He rolled over and held you to his chest while a chuckle escaped him "then why do you love me?Make it a list" Tim smiled

Toby is very affectionate.He's all over you whenever the two of you are cuddling.As close as possible=the better for him

Just like a cat,he would squirm a lot if he feels you in an uncomfortable position,then he would make eye contact with you to assure himself that you're fine with it

He also tries his absolute best to stay still if you are sleeping on him,if he fails you might wake up to a soft kiss

He likes to have you in his lap while he hugs you from behind,looking at whatever you're watching on your phone

Sniffs your hair

He isn't ashamed to show his love to you in front of the others,despite Masky's jealous look,he still has his hands on your shoulders as he watches from behind whoever you're talking to

[the-s1lly-corner]

Calling various CRP pretty boy

Yoinking this prompt from the slasher version of this post because i kind of enjoy this prompt a more than normal amount and I like feeding all my followers regardless of what fandom they follow me for

Characters: Slenderman, Masky, Hoodie, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Jeff the Killer

Notes: reader is GN, written on mobile

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

He gives little to no reaction to you, as expected as a lot of forms of affection dont mean all that much to him

Not that he doesn't treat you with love and care, he does because he knows you like it

Receiving is just a little odd for him, possibly because it's so foreign to him- but at least he doesn't reject you!

Asides from his lack of response, there isnt much else to note! Over time he does begin to respond to it if you keep calling him that

MASKY

He doesnt talk all that much so the lack of verbal response doesnt surprise you all that much

He prefers being called handsome, if you insist on saying something about his looks

Mild confusion because hes never taken his mask off around you, the most hes done is lift it up to eat or kiss but even then...

Suspicious that you've peeked when he wasnt aware or conscious- probably not the best nickname

HOODIE

Doesnt talk at all, so once more the lack of verbal response doesnt come as a surprise

You haven't seen his face yet you call him pretty boy... you might actually be able to convince him to take his mask off for you so you can confirm if he really is a pretty boy

He does respond to the name and seems to at least enjoy it a little bit

Will occasionally ignore you until you call him pretty boy, not a common occurence though

TICCI TOBY

Mix of leaning into the name and calling you pretty in return, but I can also see him slightly rejecting it

He knows you mean it, more than likely- but hes so used to not being treated nicely that he cant tell if you're secretly making fun of him or not

Brings it up passively and hides it behind jokes but it's so obvious hes a little suspicious of you

Firmly reassure him that you really do think hes pretty, bonus if you point out specific parts of his face that you like!

EYELESS JACK

He considered himself average before the cult, nowadays he cant look in the mirror... though that's less of a self confidence thing and more of a trauma thing

He has mixed feelings about being called pretty boy, in general and due to the circumstances

Let's you continue calling him pretty boy, quietly keeps his thoughts to himself

He may grow onto it with enough time

LAUGHING JACK

Giddy, he already has the idea that hes cute but the thought that you think hes pretty really does it for him

Returns the energy and says he thinks you're really cute, he could just eat you up!

Takes the sudden nickname really well and adopts it as a new pet name between the two of you

He kind of perks up like a dog when you say a word they like around them

JEFF THE KILLER

Honestly he would expect you to call him pretty boy, though be doesnt need to remind you of something he already knows as fact

Pretty, handsome, cute, beautiful... call him any of those and hes going to let you know he already knew he was attractive

WILL notice if you stop calling him pretty boy, making it a habit... and you just stop calling him that out of the blue

A little huffy about it but hes going to act like hes not pressed about it- he doesn't want to come off as desperate for attention

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 15

PROMPT: Choking

CREEP: Masky

Word Count: 3k

CW: 18+ Sexual Content, Heed The Prompt, Murder, Choking that leads to MURDER (and choking that leads to sex too), Creampies (there are no creampies that lead to murder), Shower sex, uhh reader i'm not gonna lie you're kinda fucked in this one. I support you through.

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

You'd watched Masky be cruel before, and it made you wonder if he was capable of unleashing that same coldness towards you. He must be, right? The thought had you shifting in place, your eyes locked on the barely visible outline of his body through the window. You watched as he dragged a large bag of something into your shed, his form passing under a light and showing you the blank look on his face. Likely a bag of crushed cans, you thought. It was a large black trash bag, so really that was the only guess that made sense.

Yawning, you turned away to head up to bed, your heavy feet shuffling up the carpeted stairs sluggishly. As much as you loved watching him haul things with a smoke hanging from his mouth and a pack falling out of his pocket, your vision was beginning to blur. Work had kept you up longer than usual, and you had a lot to do around the house tomorrow.

Warmth enveloping you as you sunk into bed had you sighing, your ears pricking as you heard the back door creak through your vent. He was done already? Usually he'd finish another cigarette before coming back in. You listen to him pull off his boots, grunting as he bends over. A few moments later that familiar hum of the basement shower begins. He must've gotten mud all over him somehow, otherwise he'd be in the bathroom down the hall, coming in to kiss your forehead before he got undressed and under the steaming water.

Heat against your forehead has your eyes fluttering open, vision clearing as you watch him take a step back. He'd pressed a kiss against your forehead, quick but soft.

“Sorry,” he grunted, “didn't mean to wake you.” You yawned, head shaking as you waved away his apology.

“‘S okay,” you mumbled, your voice quiet and rough with sleep. The bed dipped as he climbed in beside you, the covers lifting and letting in cold air that had you shuffling closer to him.

You think he's whispering something to you, but by the time the words are out of his mouth you're already drifting back asleep, snuggled into his side.

•

Sunlight is streaming through the kitchen window, lifting my mood as I scrub at a stained baking tray. Masky had been gone when I woke up hours earlier, probably doing something or other off in the woods somewhere. I'd like to call and ask where, but his phone was practically a brick–useless and dead as it laid in a drawer somewhere. He hadn't used it since the day I gifted it to him, but I wasn't offended. It was only his nature.

A haste knock sounded at the door, catching my attention as I rinsed soap suds from my hands. We didn't get many visitors all the way out here, our fellow mountaineers preferring to keep to themselves, surrounded by enough land to keep away neighbors.

I opened the door to the scrap guy, his eyes looking over our land appraisingly. He was most likely looking for any indication we had something for him. He came by every few months, typically.

“Why hello there, ma'am,” he started, his face unsmiling but not at all unfriendly. “Was out this way and thought’a ya and that big ‘ole boy a yours. Yinz got anything for me that ya’ been savin’ these last coupla calendar pages?” He shoots me a friendly smile, and I greet him and nod, knowing there's a pile to sell in the basement.

“Course we do, follow me to the back?” He nods, the glint in his eye telling me he's more than ready to load it all. I shut the door behind me, leading him to the back around the house. As is normal he's looking around and making conversation about the wildlife, this and that about hearing coyotes in the woods.

I open the basement door, showing him down our rickety steps to the pile that somehow grows steadily every month. I'm not sure where Masky gets it all but I am pleased with the money we get for it.

“Gotdamn, it's a whole trove,” he remarks happily, eyeing it with dollar signs in his eyes. I'd once asked him what he does with all the junk he buys.

His words at the time were, “I sell it elsewhere for more.”

“Ah.” Is what I replied, deadpan but not shocked.

Presently, he was looking through the corner of garbage with great interest, eyes turning to me questioningly. “The hell ya get all this copper wiring from?” I looked down at the rust pile, noting the indeed large amount of coiled metal.

“Mas–um,” A fake cough forced its way from my mouth, covering the mistake I'd made. “Not sure, you know how it is. He brings rusty junk home and I don't ask questions,” I force a laugh and he smiles at me, understanding in his eyes.

“These are methhead levels of copper, little lady,” he laughs, the words playful. I force more laughter, wondering just how much of Masky’s behavior could be compared to something akin to drug usage. Did his pill bottles count?

“Well if I find a pipe I suppose we'll have it figured out, then,” I say, prompting another chuckle from him. About forty minutes later he's got everything he wanted loaded up, his small truck backed into my yard with the tailgate down. As he's checking to make sure nothing is about to fall out I remember the bag I watched Masky drag into the shed last night.

I tell him I'll be right back, and he waves me away, nodding to say he'd wait. My jog to the shed is short, and I open the old wooden door to a smell that almost knocks me on my ass. My face scrunches in distaste, eyes searching for what is probably a dead animal. I find nothing, the space seemingly in order as usual. “Okay…,” I whisper, confused but writing it off as something I'll have to come back and look further into later.

The trash bag is sat in a corner by our work desk, but as I get closer I find myself covering my mouth in an attempt not to throw up. With my shirt pulled up over my nose I reach for the bag, pulling it only to realize whatever it's full of is certainly not cans, nor anything metal-like for that matter. Confused, I place my hand on the side of the bag, cringing as I feel my hand sink into something that seems wet. I pull away, figuring whatever it was I'd have to ask Masky about later. The sound of floorboards creaking from behind has me spinning, my eyes meeting the apprehensive gaze of the scrap guy.

“Sorry, no cans in here! Thought we had a bag stashed away but I guess not–next time, maybe…,” I trail off. He holds my gaze, the brief silence awkward.

“Whatcha got there? Smells awful in ‘ere.” He's staring down at the bag, his expression steady. He's scrutinizing it in front of me, his dirty hand reaching up to rub his stubble.

“Oh, aha, sorry. Probably whatever was left over from the deer he got hunting a few days ago,” I lied. We didn't do much hunting, and we'd never keep a bag of parts lying around. Those are much better sold. I can't think of anything else besides clipped deer intestines that smell this horrid, however, and so that's the only excuse I have.

“Didn't know yinz hunt, that's nice. Ain't in season though, is it?” I freeze, the eye contact I'm holding with him scalding and beginning to become unbearable.

“I wouldn't know,” I say, wondering what exactly he was getting at.

“You don't know much of nothin’, do you, little lady?” My mouth parts in surprise, face furrowed as I look at him, confused and a bit concerned about being alone now. “Um–,” I begin to respond but am cut off by his rough words again.

“Where's your man?” I pause, wondering what the hells gotten into him before he takes a step closer, scaring me into tripping over the bag. It tilts but doesn't fall, my ass hitting the ground with a thump as I wince.

“I don't…what? He's…at work, is there an issue?” I shake my head, slowly raising from the ground as I dust myself off. I take another step back, realizing how quickly I'm running out of potential escape room.

“Might be.” His words come out short and clipped, confusing me further. I'm not even sure what to say, my eyes scanning my surroundings for something to hit him with if needed.

Before I can open my mouth to respond he's being slammed into the wall, his body flying past me as I whip around to find my bearings. Masky is on him, hands wrapped around his throat as they forcibly squeeze the air from his lungs. I watch wide-eyed as his eyes bulge from their sockets, his hands only managing to fight back for a mere few seconds while his legs kick and thrash. The snap of his neck a minute later sends chills down my spine, his head slamming against the floorboards as Masky drops him coldly.

My eyes are stuck to the dead man's open gaze on the floor, not registering Masky's low voice against my ear. I look up to find his dark eyes on mine, head tilted as he watches me closely with a slight frown plastered to his face. It looks like concern.

Was it that easy to snap a man's neck? Had he snapped it? I wasn't sure of how we got here, the events before this all transpiring within a span of five minutes. Everything was happening too quickly to process, and I wasn't sure where to go next.

“Listen,” I hear him say firmly, “what happened?” I can only shake my head, looking up at him confusedly. Shouldn't I be asking that?

“I don't know, he–he followed me? I don't know, I really don't know,” I say, my words coming out rushed and as confused as I am. He's looking down at me, brown eyes softened as his hand reaches to pull me closer to him. His hand is warm on my face, and I'm reminded of how affectionate he can be. It's a stark contrast to the man that was standing over a body only thirty seconds ago.

•

I always feel so much colder when he's gone. I sit under our yellow porch light, eyes turned out towards the woods as I wait. He's somewhere in those woods with a body, and my chest feels tight because of it. I spent hours replaying the sight of his hands squeezing around someone's throat, and at some point I'd begun to imagine that the someone was me.

I sigh, dropping my head in my hands as I stare at the ground, wondering just how cold you have to be to take someone by the head and twist. I'd watched him wrap his hands around that man's throat, but he told me that wouldn't have killed him fast enough. Not unless he got much stronger than he currently was. I wondered just how much stronger he'd have to be, the image of him slamming a grown man much bigger than me against that wall playing over and over. I watched him lift him by his neck, rough hands exerting an amount of force that would break me into two pieces. An amount of force that broke a man over two hundred pounds into pieces. He wouldn't have had to twist my neck like that to break it.

Rustling just past the tree line has my head snapping up, eyes searching for what I assume is Masky. His boots step out, crunching a twig underneath them. He looks as calm and stoic as ever, entirely focused on where I sit waiting for him.

“You shower yet?” His voice is a bit rougher than usual, and I figure he must be tired. Shaking my head no I begin to stand, taking his hands that he's outstretched towards me. He walks me in, kicking his boots off at the door. I let him lead me to the bathroom, the water started and heating as he gently removes the clothing from my body.

“Sure we'll both fit?” I mumble, the words coming out raspier than I'd meant them to. He only grunts, fingers working their way down his own shirt buttons, his hands steady as though he hadn't just dumped a body.

I get under the water first, sighing as I feel the heat run over me. The exhaustion of the day begins to settle into my bones, and I contemplate walking out of the shower and simply rolling straight into bed. Scuffed hands on my waist have me glued in place, my body leaning back against his chest, relaxing as I feel him around me.

His hands lather the soap up my back, my body relaxing as I watch the steam in the bathroom rise. I tense again as I feel him reach my shoulders, my neck buzzing as I hear that snap replay over and over through my ears. His mouth on the dip between my neck and shoulder has me breaking immediately, my head tilting to give him more access. He places short kisses up my neck, sucking a bite into my skin just below my jaw.

“Careful, now, this may end up being a slip ‘n slide,” I chide, the soap running off my body onto the floor below us. He smiles against me, his mouth sucking more bites just behind my ear. I swallow, feeling the saliva slide down my throat uninterrupted.

“That’s my intention,” he mumbles, voice so low I have to strain to hear him. I scoff, my mouth quirked into a smile as I register his meaning.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me steady as one sneaks down past my stomach between my legs. I sigh, his mouth on me sending flutters down my core, thighs clenching as I feel him slide a finger between my folds. My hips roll weakly into his fingers, forcing them against my clit. Electricity sparks through my gut when I feel him rub easy circles into me, soft sighs escaping me. This feeling combined with the hot water and steam filling the bathroom has my body completely relaxed against him.

My head rolls back as he slips a finger inside me, pumping in and out as I whine softly. My thighs are clenching around his hand, hips rolling as I attempt to keep him from pulling his hand away from me. I can't help but feel needy, purposely rubbing my ass back into him, sighing as I feel him against me.

I gasp a bit as I feel his fingers pull away from me, both hands moving to reposition my body so that I'm bent over a quarter of the way, hands placed flat on the tiled wall. My only warning is the feeling of his tip pressing into me, stretching along my walls as he pushes into me. I gasp, back arching as I bend further. His hands on my hips forcing me back closer to him has me aching, core tightening as I feel myself clenching around him.

I barely register his hand sliding up my spine. The shower water is losing its heat as it hits my back, his warm hands holding me steady but also the reason I slowly become shakier. One hand wrapped loosely around my throat has me lurching, a gasp escaping me as he rolls into me, sending full body shivers through me. I hear a snap from behind me, but I can't look. I know it's not real.

He's saying something to me now, but I can't hear it over the thump of that body hitting the floor, the sound replaying in my mind every time he pushes into me. His hand squeezes around my throat, holding me in place as I begin to slip, my legs and sense of reality becoming weak hand in hand. He pulls me up so that my back is flush with his chest, his hips never stilling. I can hear myself moaning in the background, the muffled sound of his hips slamming into me steady and rhythmic.

I can't tell if it's his grip on my neck that has me breathless and seeing stars or if I'm simply losing air to the steam that fills the bathroom top to bottom. Snap.

My eyes tear up, mouth gasping for air as I begin to see spots. I can feel his grip on me tighten, and the tightness in my core grows with it. It's rising as he fucks into me, my weeping throat closing in on itself as I hear him murmer, “you sure?” What?

I'm nodding, but I don't know what for, my orgasm ripping through me before I can think to ask what he meant by the question. Snap. I'm gasping, hips bucking frantically as he finishes inside me. My vision is blurred, steam and spots filling my remaining view. Both of his arms are around me now, my throat empty and gulping up air that's more wet than dry.

He's whispering in my ear, the water shutting off as he carries me from the shower, setting me down on the edge of the tub while he wraps me in a towel.

“I didn't hurt you?” He's looking down at me, brow furrowed and his usual frown deeper than usual. He's concerned, but my hands are too busy reaching for my neck, a gentle stinging sensation blooming as I touch the sides.

“No,” I say slowly, “you didn't hurt me.” I look up at him, making eye contact as I smile easily. He doesn't look convinced, eyes glued to my throat as though he's confused. “I love you, Masky.” The words leave me for the first time and they sound sweeter than anything else I've ever said.

His mouth parts, only to close firmly a second later. He nods, and I notice the dirt under his nails. A shower could never rinse that away so easily.

[ashieeeesh]

Masky version still on WIP tho

[scary-lasagna]

oh oh oh!! Yandere proxies with a darling who, in the escape attempt, damages the proxy marking thing?

If a marking is damaged, it still relays a weak signal. Lesser creatures won't be able to detect it, but higher beings will. But damn, is it painful. It's a direct link to Slender, and then it's severed, it's disobedience. Disobedience is punished.

Masky

It was a knife, the very weapon used against you to subdue your 5th escape attempt.

You were a fighter, and that's why he wanted you.

That's why he adored you.

But damn. You could really pack a smart faced punch when you needed to.

He was on top of you, with the handle of his knife between his teeth, struggling to fist both of your wrists at the same time. And in a quick motion, you snatched the knife, chipping his tooth in the process, and swiped down on the shoulder of his jacket.

He screamed, completely blacking out in pain and clutching his shoulder. You managed to quickly scamper away as Masky starts heaving and collapsing on the ground, spots clouding his vision from the pain alone.

You didn’t waste time pushing yourself off of the bloody grass, and almost slipped as you ran into the brush of the forest.

Time seemed to escape you as you pounded your way through the forest, not caring where you went as long as you were keeping distance from Masky, who was hopefully still writhing in the ground in pain and regret.

But then you came to the conclusion that you were lost. You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the woods, how many times you’ve passed the same tree (or at least you thought it was), and why it seemed like something was following behind you.

It might just be a squirrel, right? But no, foolish [Y/N] this is the Black Forest, there are no harmless squirrels. Any creature in here following a cute little human like you has no good intentions to your health.

You didn't even have time to react to your quick, painless death of a snapping neck.

Hoodie

Hoodie is usually a bit more smarter than this, he knows how to protect his weak spots, unlike Masky who tends to act on reckless anger.

It was only a simple scratch as you flailed under his grip, consistently dragging you by your ankles and eventually the rim of your pants, which you quickly learned was an easy handle that he enjoyed dragging you around with.

A game of cat and mouse can only go on so long before the mouse gets eaten. Freedom was only steps away into that dark forest, you didn't care if you could find your way out, because you'd have a better chance of survival against the elements and beasts rather than with this complete psychopath.

But a measly little scratch, just enough to draw blood was enough to drag him down.

He was more fortunate than the others, getting by with only a scratch that felt like a hot, molten nickel erupting from the wound.

Hoodie's grip released, and you quickly freed yourself, scrambling away while he hunched in pain, screaming through his gritted teeth.

Hoodie's body was entirely tense, focused on the sheer amount of pain wrecking his body in wave after wave.

You almost paused to stare at the sight, not quite sure if it was a trap or not. He tended to trick you with little tests.

But you tested fate that day, and sprinted into the forest, letting him watch helplessly as you faded into the brush.

Toby

tw: seizure

Toby doesn't feel pain, but magic will not let a bad deed go unpunished no matter the circumstance.

In Toby's eyes, you only needed a little coaxing to stay still while he attempted to shackle the handcuffs on your wrists.

He'd given you too much freedom to be comfortable with.

A knife stuck out of Toby's back, although it took a moment for him to realize the marking was split open from the blood running down his back.

He felt no pain, but the hallucinations started soon after.

He kept screaming your name, calling for help, it was too pathetic for you to feel sympathy for, even if you had stayed to help him.

His wretched voice echoed throughout the house as you rushed toward any door, any window you spotted. Your mind rushed faster than you could make sense of it, and even opened a pantry in the rush of adrenaline.

You had to try the back door, which was past Toby's body in the living room.

And it fell unusually quiet.

But upon tiptoeing into the living room, with eyes wide and full of primal panic and focus, you noticed Toby convulsing on the ground.

But you didn't have any sympathy for him, you reminded yourself. Every villain as their golden moments, and in his delusions he loved you. But people don't hurt someone that they love. And they certainly do not threaten to lock them in handcuffs, to shove them into a windowless basement.

Foaming at the mouth, Toby wasn't present anymore, and didn't pose a threat even if the seizure did stop before you left.

You grabbed the keychain from his pocket, and unlocked the multiple locks lining the back door, and you disappeared from his life, hopefully for good this time.

When Toby finally woke up, the back door was open, a stupid racoon was picking through his hair.