#Proxies x reader

[lana-llama]

Ticci Toby x party girl reader (me lol)

NSFW so be careful

Fucking HATES IT

But will only try to distract you by suggesting cute dates or has slow sex with you to make you forget

Your club outfits?

He’s ogling and taking photos anytime he gets

Great spank bank material

Jealous guy so he’s always thinking about the guys that would get at you and how he would kill them

You invited him once and you had more space to dance with your friends atleast, but the club did shut down for 2 bodies being found, heads in the toilet.

Picks you up

If drugs are involved he will go and take them with you, just don’t be surprised when he fucks you in the bathroom while interrogating you about some dude that bought you a drink

Plur is stupid to him. He only cars about you.

Your friends could literally disappear and he wouldn’t care until you force him to go look for them

Your friends don’t like him cause he brings down the vibe

It’s Toby. He’s not a party guy.

After the partying is done he’ll either rip open your dress and eat you alive (sexy way)

Or fucks you against the wall with it on having some fantasy he kidnapped you from the club.

[minikoko-a]

general relationship headcanons —proxies x fem!proxy!reader

including: ticci toby, masky, hoodie and kate the chaser (individually)

suggestive mentions, mentions of murder, creepypasta masky and creepypasta hoodie (but with some features of MH tim and brian).

i'll make a distinction between Tim and Brian from MH and Tim and Brian from Creepypasta, if i'm writing of both and i don't mention if it's the creepypasta version, then it's from Marble Hornets! but in this case, i mentioned that is their creepypasta version (if it's said like that? (⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠))

i did my best with my proxies characterization, hope you like it! 💗⭐

Masky/Tim Wright

oh Tim my beloved.

one thing is to interact with Tim outside of work and another one to interact with Tim as Masky while working.

he's protective way too much.

please understand him, everything is already very fucked up and even more to being controlled by Slenderman.

y'all live in cabins in the woods! and even though you have your own, you tend to spend a lot of time in Tim's cabin.

since you started dating, you both made one thing clear: private relationship.

and to be honest, helped you quite a bit.

it didn't suit either of you for others to know exactly what's going on.

when y'all aren't deeply under his command, Tim is more soft and more talkative. his sarcasm makes you smile and he then sometimes initiate some kisses and physical contact.

but you are more of the one who initiates it.

when he has missions where the two of you don't go together, he tries to bring something to you.

but when you both go together on a mission, you take things and he covers them up and also you both deviate a little from the path or take a little longer to return (if you understand me wink wink)

but it isn't so common that you deviate from the path.

use honey, dear or your name

he holds your hand when you are together.

sometimes he wants to be alone but he always tells you before you give him space (something that he had to learn and it's difficult for him but he tries to do it to avoid arguments between you, he is an exhausted guy).

when this happens you go back to your cabin or take a walk nearby until Tim is the one who comes to find you.

his jealousy is more of a pessimistic comments to himself.

he loves you and he doesn't want to lose you.

he genuinely cares about others despite his reserved demeanor.

when you go shopping, even if he says that only what is just and necessary, he buys you what you like without anyone knowing.

but when he's Masky.

well... it's almost the same attitude.

he doesn't soften his voice to you.

just wants to do the mission, finish it and leave.

but also, that everything goes well and ends well.

he actually talks more than Hoodie.

more reserved.

he doesn't hold your hand at all.

but his protective attitude is still there!

if you get hurt during one of the missions, he will help you.

says your name, no nickname, no pet names.

but in the end, he knows you are his partner and his girlfriend.

"look at her, i would die for her, i would kill for her" vibe.

"older sis of her family x older brother of his family" vibes/trope

his kisses are long but with a strong charge of emotion.

he's a soft dom.

and again, the difference between when he's outside of work and when he's at work is not much, it's just that he acts more distant and less expressive, but for the rest, he is still a big protector.

he also values autonomy!

don't get him wrong, he just enjoys seeing his girlfriend being self-sufficient, especially with the life y'all lead.

it's between Toby or Brian that teases both of you.

Kate doesn't care much.

he loves it when you squeeze his shoulders! even though your hands hurt from how tense they are.

please give him words of affirmation and quality time :(

his love language would be acts of service and quality time!

your dates are going to the nearest city or town or just hanging out inside his cabin or yours.

there are times when it's already daylight but he doesn't let you go, for him, you're the only that can keep him putting up with that shit any longer.

and vice versa.

the sound of leaves colliding against each other thanks to the gentle gust of air was the background noise of the scene.

your head was resting gently on his shoulder, somewhat snuggled into him being greeted by the strong smell of coffee and cigarettes, his arm around your body to be more in contact with you. Tim's breathing was a little slow, you thought maybe it was because of all the cigarettes he smoked or the scene was really peaceful, a calmness that you always appreciated.

"Tim, honey..." your voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"yeah, dear?" you opened your lips, thinking a little about the words you would say. "if we get through this, will we be able to live far away and have a life together?"

your question made him go back into his thoughts, that question was so sad but Tim knew the answer for a long time.

"honey, we both already have a life together and when we least expect it, we will be living in a house somewhat away from the woods."

"love you" your lips joined together forming a beautiful connection and dance, that words were not enough because of how much you loved each other.

although you both know that it's increasingly a distant dream but he couldn't say no to his future wife.

Hoodie/Brian Thomas

ALRIGHT HEAR ME OUT.

Brian is a great boyfriend.

Hoodie absolutely not lol.

i started with Brian outside the power of the operator/slenderman.

brian is a golden retriever vibe, something in his past remains present and that is his charisma.

although his charisma is later interrupted by more sarcastic tones. after all, he's not the same as years ago.

the first to know about your relationship with Brian was Tim.

after all, he's his friend.

then the next to know it was Kate and Toby almost at the same time.

Brian does the best he can, knowing the shit y'all live, he tries to make sure to have at least some good moments within that... exhausting reality you both live in.

use honey, babe and love.

the kind of give you some flowers that are picked up in the forest.

remember when i say y'all live in cabins? well, he also has his own but he's constantly in yours.

his love language is words of affirmation and quality time!

he's not a jealous type at all, yeah sometimes he is jealous but he's more the kind of "yeah, she's my girlfriend, all mine, look at her because that's the only nearest thing that you're going to have something about her" "proud that she's my girlfriend, so what?"

your relationship is also private!

your dates consist in going to the nearest city.

a great kisser (i still hc that he's the top 1 among them lol)

an absolute service dom.

when he sends both of you on missions, he tries to do the hardest parts (although you don't care much about that later and end up doing too).

the cool aunt and cool uncle couple vibes.

but when he's working as Hoodie... well

you missed your Brian when he's not completely under the slenderman's control.

i mean y'all are completely but when he put y'all to "work".

when he's as Hoodie, he doesn't speak.

he just sighs, pants, grunts but doesn't say a word.

but those sounds sound different, because he carries a voice changer inside of his hoodie and balaclava.

Hoodie just treats you as an equal like the other proxies.

kind of stubborn (but not as toby)

Hoodie genuinely cares for you, if you go the wrong way, he grabs of your clothes and pulls you back to the right path.

there aren't many displays of affection when he's in the mission, to be honest.

but it doesn't mean that he doesn't do it completely, he is, along with Toby, the one who mind the least about showing affection (knowing the current situation everyone is in).

but he adores you, and even though you're under Slenderman's command, he's afraid that he will do something against you.

your footsteps that made the old dry leaves scattered on the dirt ground crunch made Brian turn his head to you.

"hey babe" he showed you a smile, revealing his small tooth gap.

"i didn't know you had arrived" the sound of crushed leaves began to get closer to Brian, you stopped your walk when you were already next to him. "Tim told me you got injured"

there was no response from Brian, he kept his gaze in the direction where you were but without seeing you as such, appreciating the green grass with brown tones due to dryness. the only thing he could enjoy about this shit was nature in its purest state and you by his side.

he let out a small chuckle and looked away, now looking at the lake in front of you. "just a little scratch".

your mouth curved into a smile, taking your hands out of the pocket of the large and thick jacket you were wearing, you ran your hand over his abdomen, causing him to press his lips together. "you got me, you got me" now you let out a little laugh.

there was a brief silence, the sound of leaves rustling against each other from the gusts of wind that appeared was the only noise between you and him. his hand slid down your back, at the height of your waist, curling his fingers at the end of.

"hurt or not, i'll always come back to you, love" he murmured near your temple, placing a kiss. in response, you tilted your head to his shoulder, still not losing your smile.

one thing you both know is, wounded, healthy or dead, you will always come back for each other.

Ticci Toby

OH THIS BOYY

being with him everything is a box of surprises.

he's so spontaneous, seriously.

and stubborn.

when you accepted to be his girlfriend, that same day everyone already knew it.

"hey, can you tell your boyfriend it's his turn to take out the trash?" "how do you know- nevermind"

"I LOVE MY WIFE!!!" vibes

laughs and jokes will never be lacking!

he has a terrible diet and terrible habits, but you help him improve it!

he really tries hard to make the relationship work (and he achieves it very well).

for Toby, you make him live his teenage romance (although he's no longer a teenager).

he says things directly and, well, someone said that truth hurts.

it's not his intention (sometimes it is) but he doesn't know how to be "delicate" with what he says.

he tries it but after a while, he does it again.

when you go on dates, he wears a mask and something to cover his wound. all to prevent everything from spilling out when he's eating or drinking.

after all he's been through, he would never dare treat you badly or hit you. he lived with an abusive father and he saw what his mother and sister were suffering, including himself.

but it doesn't exempt him from the fact that he can fuck up on some occasions.

sometimes he leaves you on seen, sometimes he forgets to go see you at your cabin, sometimes he tells you something and can hurt you his words (by the way he said it), that kind of things.

he has not filter when saying things, to be honest.

uses princess, babe, love, honey or a nickname of yours.

i dare to say he's the one who doesn't mind showing affection at all.

"Toby! you stink of blood!" "just another kissss c'monnn"

he's a switch.

can't keep his ass in just one role.

when he's working under Slenderman's control, he is much less careful.

even with you.

if you fucked up something, he will tell you much more directly.

if you get injured, he'll bring you or will be healing you without much care.

doesn't measure his strength.

he spends more time in his cabin than yours.

his love language would be words of affirmation and maybe physical affection, but the last one would be when he has too much trust in you.

he's the most jealous of the four.

but just like Tim, his jealousy would be self-sabotaging.

and maybe a little finishing off those who are in your way, OH! who said that?

his kisses are kinda sloppy and with tons of little smiles between kisses to kisses. just sloppy and passionate.

he just hopes that you both will get away from that life and still living in the woods, without being tied to him.

the thick sheets that were impregnated with the aroma of fresh oak managed to lull you more and more in your sleep.

your mind was blank, you were eternally grateful for that, genuinely missing dreaming. your chest rose and fell calmly until you quickly became alert when you felt the sheets lift slightly, quickly you turned around pulling a dagger out from under your pillow but it was stopped by Toby's hand holding onto your wrist with a smile on his face.

"what are you doing, honey?" he smiled making short sounds with his tongue, pretty amused how your muscles seemed to have memory.

"sorry, love" his arms quickly caught you, leaving you lying on his chest and his back being hugged by your soft pillows. the dagger was left on the nightstand. "why aren't you this quiet when we're on our way to missions?" you said playful.

"i don't want to" you chuckled. he didn't say anything, he just held you in his arms.

"babe, i want to live with you" "well, you can come to my cabin-" "not that way, du-dumb"

you looked up, could see a beard just trying to emerge from his skin, his pale skin looked similar to the moonlight and then, he sighed.

"i mean far away, where we are not tied to this" he lowered his gaze to you "would you promise to be with me?" "ye-" "forever" "forever"

both lips collided in a slightly rushed kiss but you could feel his feelings on the surface of the skin of his lips.

this is forever.

Kate The Chaser

MY GIRRRL KATEEEE

"toby i'm lesbian" "i thought you were american"

the majority of your dates are at dusk and at night.

sometimes she tells you about Lauren and Chris but just a little of what she can remember.

actually she's pretty good at drawing!

usually draws you recycling pages.

be patient with her, she isn't very familiar with relationships, not romantic ones.

but still, she's a sweetheart!

she goes to your cabin very often.

every time you go out of the woods to go shopping or just to go on a date together, she tends to hold your hand or be very close to you.

although most of your dates are inside the cabin or near the forest.

the first to know it definitely was Toby and it was by accident.

he saw you kissing behind a tree and almost got killed by him thinking you both were intruders.

and then Brian and Tim knew.

praise her please.

sometimes she just walks away and leaves you, when she does that you know he's starting to torment her.

when she is on his mantle, you don't say a word, she just nod and sigh.

then she holds you, she wants to confirm that you're real and not another hallucination of Slenderman's part.

when the both of you go on missions, you're quite fast, which is why there isn't much interaction between you.

but when she comes out of that trance she asks you if she was ever too harsh with you.

she loves you, like, way too much!

you both have an engagement ring (don't ask where she got it).

when she's with you, the mask is freely removed.

how is she going to kiss you with the mask on?

use love and honey.

there are times when she snuggles up on your chest when you're lying down.

her jealousy is just like Tim's, it's self-sabotage and tends to grab you with more intensity.

the relationship is private but the affections are obvious.

her kisses are slow and shy.

her love language is definitely quality time and words of affirmation.

tell her you love her and spend time with her, she has been through so much.

she's a switch.

although she's more a top but she's beginning to accept receiving.

the kind that brings you many objects that remind you.

often lend you her clothes.

although your lives are no longer part of you, you both have each other's hearts.

the large, rough trunk of the tall tree behind you made abrupt contact with your back. you had leaned on it without much care, watching as Kate desperately cleaned the fresh blood from her hands.

"love, you did it amazing" you tilted your head slightly without receiving a response from her.

"how can you be so calm and, i mean, how can you get used to it?" now you were standing next to her as she looked up to you, she didn't have her mask on and her reflection could be seen faintly in the lake thanks to the sunset.

"because it's not like we can leave and he won't find us" you stopped for a little moment. "apart from that, the only thing i'm grateful for is that i was able to meet my fiancée" you extended your hand showing the ring. you finally achieved your goal, a soft smile curved on her lips.

"do you think this will end at some point?"

"i hope not" she looked at you again. "because I know i couldn't be with you" now you were both looking at each other. "and if it ends, i would go with you, no matter what"

your voice was silenced along with your lips as you felt Kate's lips on yours, she's fast definitely. her hand descended, passing through your abdomen until it reached your waist as your hands made a short journey between her shoulders, neck and ending on her cheeks.

you both separated with your breathing agitated but the sweetness in both eyes made a genuine smile appear, reuniting again in a much slower kiss.

you couldn't say if you were sure that this control and nightmare was going to end, you and Kate wished to know the answer but it was almost impossible.

but what you both were sure of, was that you didn't want the relationship to end.

[eveenstar]

Hoodie: So, what do you think (Y/N)?

Y/N, who wasn't paying attention: ...I strongly disagree with Masky.

Hoodie: Masky's not even here.

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[lghutch]

Heeeello! I love your work! <3 I was wondering if you could do one for Tim/Brian/Toby for a reader who doesn’t do drugs/smokes/drinks at all? I saw your other post about the opposite and thought I would ask. Personally I think they’d always try to not force, but push the reader to do it with them, idk maybe I just have a corruption kink or something lmao…

🚬 Tim W, Brian T, and Toby R. 𝒘/ a 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝓇𝒊𝓃𝒌 / 𝒔𝓂𝒐𝓀𝒆 .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

-`♡´- okay, first of all, i don’t think Toby would drink due to his father and because of this he is extremely relieved when you share with him that you don’t drink. if the two of you end up in a situation where everyone around you guys is drinking, he’ll be with you the whole damn time ♡

-`♡´- however, i do think he’d be the type to smoke weed ! would never pressure you to smoke but if he notices you seem kinda stressed or tense he’d roll a blunt and offer you a hit

-`♡´- “ you don’t have to fuck— do anything you *crack* don’t want to . . . but i’m s-shit— just saying you *twitch* seem like you could use it . . “

-`♡´- if you do get high with him he’s over the moon . he loves seeing your eyes glazed over and red, dazed out . he finds the stupid look on your face cute even though he probably looks dumber and he knows it .

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔

-`♡´- i think he’d ask you if you wanted to try, and if you say no he wouldn’t ask again . even though he would prefer to smoke and drink with someone, he’s perfectly fine doing it by himself

-`♡´- since he knows you don’t drink i think he’d fix you a non alcoholic drink or a mock tail when he drinks so you don’t feel too left out ♡

-`♡´- definitely teases you when he gets buzzed or tipsy but not exactly in a mean way . .

-`♡´- “ no? you don’t want a sip? you scared or somethin’ baby . . ? “

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝒕𝒊𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

-`♡´- out of all of them, i believe Tim would be the least pushy trying to get you to drink or smoke . infact, i don’t even think he’d even bother to ask .

-`♡´- cares for you too much to try and convince you to do something unhealthy like drinking or smoking and his actually glad you don’t ! !

-`♡´- if you don’t like the smell he makes sure to not smoke in your presence . even if you don’t mind he typically tries to make an effort into not smoking infront of you

-`♡´- “ y’know you kinda give me inspiration . ya make me wanna stop smokin’ these things . never thought those words would come from my mouth, eh ? “

Hope you enjoyed! Sorry these r kinda short 💔

[uncannydevotion]

Can you do toby, hoodie, and masky being instructed to kill their s/o by slender? Would they actually go through with it?

a/n: picture me rubbing my hands together evilly upon reading this request okay. this is so so so short but i felt like it would drag on if i made it any longer im sorry </3 but i hope you enjoy it!! thanks for the request, i love angst <3

warnings: major character death in tobys part!! murder, attempted murder, blood, descriptive death, memory loss, overall everyone has a bad time, but hoodie is like... vibing. also not proofread im incapable of rereading things i write.

MASKY

It's certainly not an order he intends on following, but he's well aware that he's susceptible to Slender's influence, so he's not quiet sure how to avoid it.

The only one of the three to actually try and negotiate with Slender. You weren't a threat to anyone, let alone it. He didn't understand why the being was hellbent on getting him to kill you, especially since it knew that he loved you.

And that's just the reason.

He loved you, so you were a distraction. You were a weakness, and Slender doesn't take well to its proxies having weaknesses.

But it was a reasonable being. For Masky, at least. The man was logical, so they saw eye to eye a fair amount of times. He had yet to go against any of his other orders, so Slender was willing to negotiate.

Its terms? Masky would have to cut all contact with you and your memory of him would have to be taken so to ensure you wouldn't try finding him. And in exchange, you would get to keep your life.

Now, obviously, he didn't want that. Masky loved you, so why would he ever want to part ways with you? Almost as if to show him what would happen if he didn't accept its terms, Slender caused the man to black out, and when he came to...

He was in your bedroom, standing over your bed as you slept, a gun pointing at you. His finger was on the trigger, and he quickly dropped the gun before anything could happen.

The thought of you dying, the reality of living in a world without you in it, was enough to make him agree to Slender's terms. Masky disappeared from your life, and your memory of him went with.

Though he remembered you. A sick form of punishment, perhaps, for falling in love. He remembered everything about you.

HOODIE

Hoodie is, out of the three, the one most likely here to blatantly disobey Slender without fear of consequence. Though Slender is technically his boss, he's not the type to blindly follow orders unless they make sense to him.

No amount of punishment has been able to break him, but he's too valuable of a proxy for Slender to rid of him.

When the order first comes to his mind, he almost laughs from the sheer absurdity of it.

He does not care what reason the entity might have for wanting you dead. Hoodie loved you, so he would not kill you. And should Slender try getting one of the other proxies to try and kill you, Hoodie is not against harming them.

His loyalties lie with you, first and foremost.

You are one of the very few things in his life that brings him joy, there's just literally no way in hell he'll let anything take that away from him. Not even his evil eldritch boss can force him away from you.

And unlike Masky, he won't distance himself from you. He's... pretty selfish, to be honest. His very presence puts you in harms way, and you might have people actively trying to murder you from now on but don't worry!!

He'll keep you safe, trust him.

TICCI TOBY

The only one here who will actually kill you. He doesn't want to, believe me. Toby will actively go out of his way to try and defy Slender like Hoodie, even, but he is the entity's most loyal proxy, so it's a short battle.

Toby's loyalty to the faceless being runs deeper than anything else, even his love for you. If Slender wants him to kill someone, then he will.

But he doesn't kill you willingly, if that makes you feel any better. Toby ignores the order for as long as he can, until Slender runs out of patience. And when it does, it will hound Toby with endless static and agonizing pain, punishment for disobeying its orders.

It will break Toby down, and once it's sure that Toby can't disobey it again, Slender will demand he kill you. And this time, in a mindless haze, Toby does it.

Maybe he thinks he's killing someone else, your screams and cries falling upon deaf ears as he slams his hatchets into you over and over again under you could no longer be recognized, your blood staining his clothes and skin.

Toby won't remember you. You were a weakness that had to be purged, so Slender ensured that every memory he had of you was repressed. But even so, there's this aching feeling in his chest. As if he was missing something important, something he can't quite place.

He mourns you, and yet he can't even remember you. He just feels... anguish, for some reason.

[ratmillkk]

Omgg girl your Stockholm story had me foaming at the mouth 😩😩

Could I place a Tim and Brian x reader bug in your ear? Either both together or separately in the same fic, I don't mind either way I just love my obsessive masked men

Thank you for feeding us 🙏🖤

omgomgomg thank u sm!!! ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE 😩😩😩

☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪ ☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪ ☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　

Punishment (Brian and Tim X F! Reader)

𝐂𝐖: 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐣, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝐤

☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪ ☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪ ☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　

Your boots slammed against the hardwood floors of the mansion foyer, weapons around your belt felt heavy, clanking against each other with your angry hands holding it in place. The mission you just went on bombed so hard the entire trip home was silent. Tim, Brian, Toby and yourself had entirely zipped lips the whole way home.

“How could you let them get away like that” Tim said while ripping his mask off his face, underneath it was the scariest scowl you had ever seen him give you. It sent a chill down your spine.

“I had him! I fucking had him, if it werent for Toby dropping the ball on the escape plan I wouldn’t have-“

“Yeah! B-blame me as you always f-fucking do” Toby slumped onto one of the many couches that decorated the foyer. “Y-you shouldn't have let me d-distract you”

Tim threw his mask against the wall, the thick plastic hitting it sounded like a firecracker pop. You flinched. “It's not Toby’s responsibility to keep your incompetent ass in check. It's YOUR own responsibility to keep your incompetent goddamn ass in check.” Tim spoke with seething fury, a finger pointed at you the entire time he spewed. “This mission was SHIT because YOU let the guy get away”

You knew he was right, you knew it was your fault. You had been fucking up lately, so much you almost took Tobys place being the bad luck charm. To Tims words you just shrugged, keeping your gaze at the floor while you anxiously fiddled with your hands.. Until you shifted to make eye contact with Brian as an attempt for some sort of backup.. A silent hope, a silent ask for him to defend you. Your heart dropped to the floor when he didn't say a word, just looked down and almost shyly shifted away from you.

“Really?” You shrugged with a defeated laugh. You couldn't possibly be the only one blamed for this, you refused , “So we’re all just gonna pretend i’m the only one at fault here?” You threw your hands up haphazardly

Tim stomped over, looking down right into your eyes before bending down to be eye level with you. His face was just inches away from yours, and your face flushed red. “None of the rest of us ever let our victims get away. Whatever the fuck you’re about to say doesnt matter because none of us ever fucked up as bad as you just did today. Not even Toby has let someone escape”

Your eyebrows furrowed, clenching your jaw as you wracked your brain for something to say, some clapback, but nothing came out. You just stared him right in the eyes as he did you, almost challenging him with your gaze.

“The fact that you have nothing to say just proves my point princess. You think you're tough shit but I can assure you, you’re nowhere near it” Tim noticed your energy, your expression, your attempt at intimidation. “You wanna prove you’re all that huh?” He took his gloved hand, and harshly fastened your jaw in between his first four fingers and thumb. The tips dug into your bone enough to make you wince. He gestured for Brian to bring him his mask, to which he did. Tim slipped it back on.

Toby could tell obviously what was about to happen, he didn't want to see it, so he stood up and left as fast as he could. but..

Brian stayed.

“You think you’re so tough.. Yet you’re huddling into yourself when I touch you like this” He grabbed a fistful of your hair in his free hand, you gasped “Yeah. Whose a brave bitch now huh?”

You bit your bottom lip anxiously, tearing off a piece of skin with it as you kept your eyes locked on the black holes for eyes through the mask. Though instead of a glare, it was as if you had just been knocked into submission, gaze almost pleading.

Tim released your jaw, your eyes followed his hand.. It reached down, and fiddled with the holster of his gun. The click of the button sent a chill down your spine, but it was nothing compared to when he had slowly positioned the gun to press up under your chin. You felt the barrel tensely shoved between your jaw bones, your skin tented over it with its force.

You froze entirely when you heard the click of the safety switch off, but your eyes wandered to Brian, who was just quietly standing by, almost as if he were waiting.. As if he were about to make some sort of move..

You whimpered as you felt Tim press the gun harder into your chin, he said lowly, “Eyes on me” You obeyed instantly, eyes locked on him once again.

You felt his hand slither out of your hair, it slid down your front, and between your legs as he rested it upon your inner thigh. He was testing you, seeing how you’d react, but since you were still frozen, he had to go to more drastic measures. With that he grabbed you by the arm and flipped you over with a hand that grabbed your hair once more. You felt your body being dragged to the floor and pinned down on your back, one of his hands held both of your wrists above your head.

He was quick to unbutton his pants with just one free hand, shoving the waistline down to reveal his rock hard dick that leaked with precum. It smeared over the tip, glistening slightly with the light illumination of the candles on the walls. He yanked down your shorts and panties completely off, throwing them to the side as he shoved himself into you.

Your gasp tore through your throat as you let out a moan that forced its way out. In your peripheral you could see Brian adjusting his standing spot.. Seemingly to get a better look at what was happening. Tim made sure though, that you were only looking at him for now with a hand roughly fastened across your mouth to keep you quiet. Of course, it wasn't effective. You were whimpering every time he shoved himself into you. Your legs were over his shoulders, his hand over your mouth and free hand over your head.

Your view of him made you melt, his jacket was falling off of his shoulders, his eyes piercing through his mask, his messy, deep brown hair fell messily over his forehead as he slammed into your cunt. Your body seemed to have a visceral reaction to this, it was almost as if you had lost control of yourself as you ripped your hands free to grab him wherever you could reach.

You found yourself being roughly pinned by your throat “Keep your fucking hands off me” He took the gun and pointed it at you. His body hunched forward, head leaning closer to yours as he adjusted to have one hand on the floor and the other pressing the gun into your temple. Your legs were basically over your own head as well, this position granted the deepest possible penetration he could, and your jaw went completely slack with moans falling from your mouth in pleasure.

He was slamming into you so hard you were seeing stars, every thrust you could hear your slick sloshing between your bodies with moist passion. You opened your mouth to speak, about to ask him to slow down, when you saw a tall figure above you. It was Brian, masked, and knelt above your head.

“Punish this fucking-“ Tim let out a groan “This fucking slut” He backed up to where Brian could hover further. He stood over you, cock already above your mouth, but he rotated, straddling your neck as he leaned forward. Your mouth instinctively opened and you felt his entire length fill your mouth, the stretch in your jaw muscles made you whimper.

You didn't think it could get any more overstimulating than it already was, but you were proven wrong from how ferocious Brian was fucking your face. You could barely breathe, your mind was numbing with the feeling of both of your holes being used like a toy. Like a piece of meat to be used. You felt Tim pull you closer to him, which caused Brian's cock to shove so far down your throat you gagged.

Brian's hand held your hair and yanked your head back to release him from you. Bubbles and strings of spit strung along from his cock to your mouth, your lungs burned, ached for air as you gulped it down as much as you could. Then your moment of recovery was cut short with Brian's free hand opening your mouth to allow him to shove himself back in, and thrust with no mercy, no warning or slow pace. His jolts were hard, unforgiving as if he was punishing you for being such an idiot.

“This is what you get” Brian muttered lowly “You deserve to get your pretty face destroyed” His voice was soft, yet assertive all the same. Your whimpers were fuel for his vendetta, as he shoved it in far back, touching your uvula. When you gagged he pulled away, shoving it back in only once he was certain you wouldn't vomit all over him. Over and over he tortured your gag reflex, and the saliva build up was pouring from your mouth so profusely it was like you had poured water all over yourself.

Tim wasn't being kind either his thrusts were harder than ever before, seeing you get used was making him feral. The gun in his hand was pointing directly to your stomach, pressing harder with every noise you made as he picked up the pace. His groans grew more rapid, louder as he shoved himself into you, fucking into you as he shot his cum through your hole. He threw his head back, and let it fill you up until he couldn't handle the stimulation of his dick inside you.

But Brian wasn't done yet, he was still using your face and fucking it like his life depended on it. You felt Tim pull out of you, circling you until he knelt by your head, gun held to your head as you made eye contact with him.

“Look at him, slut” Tim demanded, shoving the barrel into your temple and flicking the lever to cock it. Fear spiked in you, arousing fear. Your eyes then never left Brian's masked face, the frown looking down at you as your vision was slightly blurred from your watering eyes. Spit seeped from the corners of your mouth in bubbles and globs as you gagged, gasped for air and squirmed. Brian held his cock in your mouth for a moment, just watching you writhe for some air. He pulled out, and you gasped in a scream like gulp, head falling back to rest on the floor. But of course Brian was brutal, and he grabbed your hair to start it all back up.

In your peripheral you could see Tims masked face watching you, gun held in his hands, barrel against your temple as he hummed lowly. You noticed his finger fiddling with the trigger, and you whimpered in muffled spurts as suddenly, Brian shoved himself all the way in. He groaned out in pleasure as the thick cum ropes filled your mouth, sliding down your throat so fast you couldn't help but instinctively swallow it. You gagged again, but he didn’t let up until you were almost crying in fear from not being able to breathe.

When he pulled out, you gasped, lungs screeching for air as you coughed. A few splatters of cum leaked out of your mouth while you sat yourself up.

“Learned your lesson?” Brian asked, stuffing his half hard cock back into his pants. You nodded, coughing again and able to fully sit properly when he got off of you.

Tim stood up then, Brian following as they just left you there. On the floor. Covered in slick, cum, and sweat.

“Don't let that shit happen again” Tim muttered, as he and Brian left the room.

And you swore to yourself you wouldn't.. or.. perhaps you might

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ strangers in the woods ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ toby rogers x reader ୨୧ When walking alone in the woods, off the beaten track a stranger makes himself known. intruders in the cabin (part two) a/n: (1.3k words, requested by @tychos-huzband) first request so I hope you enjoy!

Life sometimes sucks. It's true, it's something not everyone wants to admit but everyone feels it. Life can really suck at times. But right now? Right now it was feeling pretty damn shitty.

The day before was your last day of work. Your boss, a short egotistical man that you'd graciously put up with for three long years, decided to fire you. 

Not because you'd used your sick days when your only family member had died last year, not because you were late to your shift one time when your ex had smashed your car up, not even because of the time you'd yelled at a customer for putting his slimy hands on you. 

No, it was because he'd hired 'one too many lazy girls'. The sexist pig didn't seem to care when the guys on shift would slack off let alone steal cigarettes on their closing shift but when you forgot to stock one set of drinks that morning. Bam, that was it. No warning or anything just a ‘you’re fired, goodbye’.

When life got as bad as this, sometimes you needed to just get away from it all even just for a day. So you did.

You used what little you had left of your last pay and bought two bus tickets, to the end of their route and back. The trip itself wasn't all that exciting. The old bus was so cramped you had to awkwardly shift on your seat so your legs could fit. 

You spent the whole time looking at the busted bus door wondering if this bump would be the one where it finally fell off.

You had been the only one on the bus for a while before the final stop finally appeared in view.

With a creaking stop, you were free of the shitty blue bus. Around you was nothing but forest, clearly far away from the concrete jail of a city you'd come from.

Across the dirt road were five small shops two of which were boarded and closed, the other three had seen better days. On your side of the road was a wooden trail map and a small bridge leading further into the woods. Perfect.

You'd been on the trail years prior, only once with your friend who said he'd known a spot. He was right, once you'd both reached the top of the trail it was a beautiful view, up on a hill looking out over the small town, if you could even call it that.

He was a good friend, one of your only friends actually. He'd been sent away not long after that trip. The doctor said he wasn't right and needed help to get better, though you never saw him again. 

You'd been meaning for a long time to come back to this trail, it did always remind you of him. But that's not what you're here for today. 

You're here to forget, not to reminisce.

After walking for a good while you halted on the dirt trail. Picking a random direction you walked off the trail to follow your own path. As long as you kept going one way, you could just turn back around and go back the way you came.

It was much better off the trail, the forest felt more natural. Being able to let your thoughts float away and focus on your rugged path instead.

The feeling of the sunlight through the leaves in the tall trees flickering on your face seemed to leave you in a trance. Losing all track of time, for once you weren't worrying about where you should be or what you could be doing.

A faint crack and a crunch of leaves pulled you from your gaze on the forest floor. Pausing in your tracks you scan the area around you, squinting your eyes as if that would help, searching for the source of the odd noise.

Regardless you kept moving, after all there was probably more wildlife the further you got away from the track. Continuing on your walk until suddenly you hear it again. A crack and a crunch.

You could almost feel your ears hurt from the strain you put on them to focus on every little sound. 

Ruffling of trees against each other, birds chirping and flapping away, distant leaves crunching like audible footprints, a crack that sounded like when you crack your knuckles except this was much louder.

Just your luck, go on a nice relaxing walk to get away from people and assholes of the world. And along the way boom, people and potential assholes. Great, wonderful even.

You decided against your better judgement to be like every character in a horror movie and yell out, because if they were out here, they were probably here for you. No one else would be reckless enough to go this far out.

"If you're gonna kill me, at least have some manners and don't be a coward about it!" You yelled out causing birds to scatter into the skies, you twisted on your heel in a circle trying to get a view from all directions.

Crunch, another footstep much closer this time. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to call them a coward, might've just made them mad.

"Uh, not a coward and not gonna kill you either. Just wanna know why you're out here?" The stuttering voice almost scared you to death, you had enough self preservation to not scream.

A few paces in front of you stood what looked like a guy around your age, wearing worn down black sneakers, slightly muddy black jeans, a faded blue hoodie with a clean oversized brown jacket over the top.

The strangest part of his appearance wasn't his fingerless gloves in the middle of summer but a large hospital looking bandage that covered part of his cheek.

You felt your eyebrows furrow in caution.

"Why're you out here?" The sass laid on thick, you could feel the tension in your shoulders building as every second passed.

He let out a strange mix between a giggle and a scoff.

"I live here. Obviously, where else would I be out here? Hm?" The condescending tone in his voice made you wonder if the murderer in the woods was goin to be you instead.

"What? You live in the woods? You do know that the next town over has a homeless shelter right? I can literally take you there" Only if you stop being a prick.

"Wha- No. I have a home you fucking worm! One which you're about to trespass on which won't go too well for you, so my question is still unanswered. Why. are. you. here?"

Embarrassingly you were open mouthed like a fish right now.

"Well, I was on a trail, must've gotten lost on it." Half truth, please get me out of this.

His face really said it all. His brown eyes squinted in disbelief and his pale lips pulled into a sort of smirking snarl.

"You do realize how far away that stupid trail is, you must've been walking what? All day?"

You felt yourself nod meekly, which was not a way you'd usually describe yourself as being.

With a sigh he looked to the sun. He kept fighting with something in his hoodie pocket which did absolutely nothing to ease your nerves.

"It's going to get dark soon and there's no way you'd make it all the way back to the track in time even if you ran. So I can drive you back to the entrance in the morning, c'mon" He turned around and started walking without even looking back.

No way you'd make it all the way back, even if you ran. Totally not fucking ominous and threating at all but sure I'd just love to spend the night with you random stranger, sure all of this is totally cool.

With a groan and a stomp to the ground beneath you, you jogged over to him and began the walk further into the forest.

[draganasimpsforjeff]

I really want to do something writing wise for Creeps and Halloween month, but not Kinktober, so if anyone has any ideas or asks to send in please go ahead!

[koibitogata]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 5. in which you discover...well, something. word count: 2.6k note: straight up this fic has stopped making sense. i am losing it cw: toby has mood swings. some crying too.

You make up for the lost dinner with a big breakfast, scarfing down your food as quickly as Jeff had grabbed the soul out of you the previous day. You almost worry that you’re eating too noisily beside the artificially smiley faced-man, but he seems to be eating more noisily than you. Absolutely no manners.

“Morning!” Chirps Toby like a baby bird, except in a baritone as he enters the dining area, in the same clothes as yesterday. Jeff growls at him through a mouth full of food to shut up.

Whoosh.

Barely a second and a whirlwind of brown and orange later, Toby’s at his throat. You did not expect this to occur during your peaceful meal.

“What did you say.” Toby growls at him, gripping Jeff’s collar so tightly you think his shirt might just tear apart. But Jeff matches that iron grip with his own on Toby’s wrist. “I said,” Jeff snarls, “shut the fuck up.”

How do you de-escalate a situation between two angry, violent people?

You remember a really stupid viral video from years ago and stand between them, your cereal bar between your lips.

“Whatcha dooooin’,” you mimic Toby’s line yesterday, keeping the tremble in your voice to a minimum. You need them to regain a sense of normalcy, or at least confuse them enough that their anger will end.

“Uh.” Jeff stares blankly at you. “What the fuck are you doing?” His lip curls up in a sneer of disgust. You suppose they were actually stupid enough for it to work…?

“Oh!” Snaps Toby back to attention. “Can I join you for—woo—can I join you for breakfast, Y/N?” He grins down at you like a ray of sunshine, like nothing ever happened.

Extreme mood swings.

“Sure,” you reply, and in no time Toby is shoving Jeff to one side so he can sit with you.

“There’s a left side and right side on her, lover boy,” complains Jeff, but he leaves all the same when he’s done with breakfast as Toby yaps into your ear about random topics. One sentence it’s the weather, and the next it’s torture methods. The range on this boy is a bit too concerning for your liking.

“Oh-oh, Y/N, Y/N, did you know that if you shoot a person in the head, they’ll…”, he giggles childishly here, “pee their pants?” It’s amusing how he giggles, a literal “heeheehaha” kind of sound, amongst small vocal tics. Smiling at him both out of amusement and out of politeness, you say, “Do you wanna know something?” His eyes light up even further, and you wonder if there’s a limit to how bright one’s eyes can be. “Wh-what?” His legs shake up and down and he clenches his fists, almost vibrating in his seat. Wow, that’s a lot of energy. But given his mood swings, it’s likely this won’t last too long.

“Sometimes,” you begin, “sometimes they live. It’s not a guaranteed death.”

“I know!” Toby exclaims, slapping the tabletop with both hands. You try not to give away your startle with any sudden movements, for fear that his current state is truly volatile and may be overtaken by negative emotion if you show any sign of hurt or fear. “Brian has sh-sh-shot many people, and, sometimes they—fuck, crack!—don’t die!” His grin is brighter than the sun, the corners of his eyes crinkled with joy, and you could almost mistake him for a young child if not for his sunken eyes and dark eye circles.

“But,” he begins thoughtfully. “Sometimes I throw my hatchet at their heads, uh, and, they die! Instant K.O!” He makes a bzzzzhhhh sound, like a buzzer. His attitude towards death is…concerning. You wonder if you could observe him in action as he kills his targets.

Your mind seems to have entirely shifted to an “I’m a therapist and nothing fazes me” mode, but you know that if he were to actually let you follow him on a murder spree or whatever it is he does, you might piss your pants and have a panic attack at the sight of the death of another human being. Did he ever have to get used to murder? Or was he always so cheerful about it?

“I see you’re getting along well,” comes a male voice, a slight grouch to it, a couple feet behind the both of you. Toby’s neck cracks as he whips his head around to face the person, and so do you turn to face them, though not at the same literal breakneck speed.

“Timmy!” Exclaims Toby.

What a strange nickname for such a stand-offish man.

One second he’s seated beside you, and the next, in a blur of brown and blue, something that you can only presume to be Toby clings itself onto Tim-not-Masky, and the two men go tumbling onto the ground, yelps of pain coming from Tim and more “heeheehaha”s coming from Toby.

“You fucking bastard,” spits Tim(my), but with little venom in his voice. Their relationship is almost that of brothers.

“You love me anyways!” Toby teases, nuzzling the man, who protests by saying something along the lines of “Toby I’m not gay,” and “Toby you’re not gay”.

“How would you know?” Says Toby lowly, grinning in a mockingly malicious manner like a fifth grader trying to mock-flirt with his friend. Tim shoves him off with a disgusted look and an ugh, then hurries to the kitchen to get away from the boy, who looks prouder of himself than he should be.

“So…” You tread carefully. “Are you gay?” Then, almost stumbling over your words, you blubber, “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it.”

Toby goes quiet for the first time today, deep in thought. Just as you worry that you might’ve said something wrong, he speaks up. “Nope! I’m straight as a stick! I…I think.” He frowns a bit at that. “I dunno.”

“That’s okay, Toby,” you reply, taking another bite out of your toast. “I don’t know either.”

“But…you seem like you…—wa-woo!” He swallows, putting his thoughts together in his head. “You seem like you know everything!” He seems to be idolizing you already, which is not good. This is not good. You’re not qualified to be regarded as an actual therapist; you can only be an equal to whom they spill their worries. You conjure the brilliant idea of straight-up telling him you’re not to be put on a pedestal.

“I’m a normal person just like you and Tim, Toby,” you say. But this does nothing to put out the flame of wonder in his eyes. Did he even process what you just said at all?

You’re alerted of Tim’s presence as he sets a bowl of cereal and milk down on the tabletop, right opposite Toby. “He thinks normal people are the best,” he states flatly. “Because Brian and I are normal to him and he thinks we’re his whole world.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or dig a hole, cry, and wait for The Operator to come after your ass.

—

After your little…learning experience with Toby, you get to setting up your office. The proxies were surprisingly resourceful, having transported entire bean bags, a big-ass carpet and a table from wherever they raided straight into your little extra room, along with a thoughtful little box of snacks and the stationery you requested. Just as you wonder if you actually did write your request for snacks down onto the paper yesterday, you find a little note in the snack box. It’s surprisingly cute, and could be mistaken for a kindergartener’s work. On it says, “With love, Toby,” in very shaky handwriting, along with a cute little heart next to it, equally shaky.

Chuckling to yourself, you set the note aside and get to work. To your relief, you do not overestimate your strength and actually manage to shift everything in place. The carpet doesn’t cover the entirety of the ugly blue tiles, but it’ll have to do. You’ll also have to do something about the cold lighting in the room, flickering every so often. What if you just place a piece of yellow paper on it? Easy fix, you laugh to yourself. But for now, you don’t have a ladder nor a means of getting up there, so you can’t even slap Toby’s cute note onto the light bulb.

Speaking of Toby, you think about the “patients” under your care. The most prominent profile in your mind right now is the youngest boy. If you had any access to the internet right now, you’d be able to do more research on his symptoms and conditions. Alas, you’re literally off the grid right now, and have to settle for descending into a half-sleep half-daydream sort of trance when bored.

And so it is that trance you descend into as you shuffle boxes here, boxes there, furniture back and forth, playing idly with placements, rolling pens across the desk—

“Hey Y/N! —woo!— I like what you’ve done with the place!” Comes Toby’s cheerful exclamation from the doorway.

The place is desolate. It’s absolutely dismal for a therapist’s safe space, one that they offer to turmoiled patients.

“Uh…thanks, Toby!” You try as hard as possible to not sound sarcastic, but it seems you don’t have to worry about it—the boy’s already flopping himself onto the beanbags, rolling around and frolicking. Damn, proxies don’t get many good things, do they?

Nonetheless, you take the chance to get some work done and pick up a pen and foolscap. “Toby?”

“Yeah?” Comes his reply, his head immediately turning to you from his ridiculous position. It looks like he’s trying to do a backward roll on the beanbag, with his ass in the air, knees beside his head.

“Wanna talk about life?”

—

And so the both of you talk. And you talk, and talk.

Toby had sat up normally—well, as normally as he possibly could, with his fidgety mannerisms and all—and he’d spilled. It’s how you come to learn of his past, or to be precise, the fact that he has no memories of it.

But as much as the empty cup can, it spills, even just a few drops. He can’t get into cars without severely panicking, so when sent out on missions, they use vans instead.

“I pretty much only remember my name,” he informs you. “Other than that, I don’t know much. I mean, I’m pretty sure I had both parents…and sometimes, I think I remember having a sister,” he says wistfully. “I think I loved her.”

You jot the information down as furiously as you can, letting the boy run his full train of thought.

“Sometimes…sometimes I wake up in the—mm!—middle of the night, and I feel like I remember everything…and then I can’t help it. I start crying.” He twiddles his thumbs even more furiously in an attempt to negate the negative energy he’s radiating. “Sometimes,” he continues quietly, “I think I remember her name.”

You allow the boy a moment to catch up to his feelings and thoughts. Then, you ask gently, “What do you think her name is, Toby?”

“Um…” He scratches his head, his messy brown hair curling every which way. “Lyra. I think.”

You smile. “Lyra must have been beautiful.”

“She was, I think.” A sniffle. A tear runs down his cheek, and you begin to panic, before reaching over for a box of tissues—you’d forgotten to write this down, but the proxies were thoughtful enough to bring you a few—and passing it to him.

“It’s okay to cry, Toby,” you murmur what little comfort you can. “I doubt you’ve talked to many people about this, in such a vulnerable manner.”

He sniffs. “Thank you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m grateful the—sniff—that The Operator had us bring you back alive,” he says. “He ss-sent us to the asylum, and told us—sniff—to wait for someone to come, and when that ss-someone came, he’d let us know.”

“Many people came and went, and Jeff kinda…” He gestures vaguely, but you chuckle. You know exactly what he means. “He—ah!— killed ‘em all, except for you.” He forces a dry chuckle. “You’re lucky. B-but, I still can’t believe he sent us to look for a therapist, of all things. Probably just wants to prolong our shelf life o-or—mm!—something,” he mutters the last part.

Wow, the Operator’s kind of turning out to be a bit of an asshole, huh? You think to yourself, but pay it no mind. It’s something to ponder later, no matter how important it might be. The patient’s health comes first.

You nearly fail to catch the fact that Toby just stated that they did not kidnap you at random. He said, he sent us to look for a therapist. You don’t know what to do with this information. Laugh? “Haha, tall-ass eldritch monster sends his tiny humans to look for a shrink!” Cry? “Fuck, tall-ass eldritch monster knows what a therapist is. Who knows what else he knows?” That doesn’t make too much sense.

But the Operator’s powers still remain a mystery to you. Though, you suppose he was being literal after all. How else did he perceive your presence and make the (fortunate? unfortunate?) decision to bring you back alive? Hell, does this even concern you when your life is at stake? Is your life even at stake? Well, it is, but it also isn’t if you can treat his proxies.

It’s all a little too complicated.

“Y/N?”

You shake out of your stupor. You’ve been absently gazing at Toby staring back at you for the longest time, but it’s only now that you actually see him. Your vision is blurred and you dismiss it as a product of not blinking for a while.

“Are you ok-k-kay? You’re crying,” worries Toby.

Oh, so that’s why your vision is blurry. What kind of therapist cries in the middle of the session?

Before you can get the words “I’m fine” out of your mouth, Toby’s body language shifts to that of an obviously anxious one. Too quickly for you to even try to convince yourself he’s fine, he shoots up and shakily pulls out a few tissues from the tissue box, but he shakes so much that the box falls to the ground, and he follows, crouching over the fallen object.

“No, no no, no no no,” he mutters shakily, voice thick. A sniffle.

You act before you think. “Hey, hey,” you soothe him, hand reaching out for his shoulder. “What’s going on, Toby?”

He looks back at you, eyes and nose red, lips curled downwards, stifling sobs. “I-I’m so—sss-sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles. “I can’t do this to you. I love you too much.”

And all of a sudden, he shoots back up to full standing height, and before you can even blink he’s reaching for the handle of the door, slipping through faster than light and slamming the door back closed.

You’re left there to stare blankly.

chapter 6 is out.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Passing Autumn Nights

[Proxies (Toby, Masky, Hoodie) X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: also known as the 'fuck me i just miss autumn' fic and LOVE writing slice of life things.]

[1356 words <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Moments like these never last forever. Fleeting, careless, and bittersweet, they remind you of a time long, long passed. The moon is rising and a chill runs through the air. It oddly warms you and reminds you of friends that pass in and out of your life just as freely, though in your past life it might have caused you minor concern. 

You sit on the hood of this stupid car Toby stole. It’s sporting a giant dent in the side, and some of the paint near the tires is rusting but it’s taken care of the four of you so far. In your hand is a pack of cigarettes. You don’t smoke. You tried it once and hated it, coughing up like a crude imitation of a dragon lighting up your first attempt, and never tried again after that. They’re actually Tim’s; he wants you to hold them to help kick his habit. 

Brian says it’s a sign he’s trusting you more and more. After all, no one knows Tim like him, and you trust your right hand’s judgment. 

Laying in the back seat is Brian himself. His forearm is over his eyes to shield them from the harsh overhead lights in the parking lot. He smells like pine, the woods, a bit of whiskey but not too much. He’s got his back windows rolled down as he waits with you for Toby and Tim to finish whatever the hell they’re doing inside the grocery store. You all needed some cash, and Tim has ways of getting it without any suspicion raised. Whole registers, wallets, purses, things lifted without so much as a smile on his face and an oddly friendly, ‘have a nice day’ in response. 

In your hands, you play with the lighter Tim also left with you. You flick it a few times before finally hearing your right hand’s voice. 

“Leave it,” he hums tiredly, not bothering to move his forearm from his closed eyes. “Thing’s low enough.”

You smile softly and cap it before resting it back in your jacket pocket. For a mid October day, it’s only a little cold, which is surprising. You expected it to be chillier. Or maybe that’s just your proxy blood telling you to not register cold the way a human might. There’s scrapes all over your body, some from missions, others from training, only one from The Operator himself. You trace over the heated mark on your clothed thigh and internally wince, remembering when you upset him. “Sorry,” you apologize half heartedly as you run your thumb in slow circles over the smooth box of cigarettes. “Just get antsy waiting.” 

Brian hums again in response as if to ask ‘why’, but makes no further move to press. He just smiles slightly in response to your presence. “You can always ask them how they’re doing,” he says. When you glance over your shoulder to peer at him through the windshield, he tapes at his temple. Head talk, of course. 

You squint a bit across the parking lot and feel a small bout of relief wash through your system as Tim and Toby step out of the store, bags in hand from legitimate purchases, and well, you can feel the things they acquired outside of legal bounds. “No need to,” you say in response to Brian. 

“Get off the hood,” Tim chides you slightly, but he makes no further move to disturb you. It’s said much like an older brother would to a pesky younger sibling. 

In solidarity, and out of a love for annoying his leader, Toby haphazardly opens the trunk of the car, tosses the bags inside which earns a scowl from Tim, and then bounds over to sit on the hood with you. He leans back a bit, resting his tired body alongside yours. “Kinda crowded in there,” he says to you, knowing you’re curious about how it all went. “Bit too crowded for a Thursday at 8pm,” he muses further. He runs his fingers through his chopped brown hair, gazing at the night sky. The moon has always captivated him. Reminds him of simpler times. He likes autumn just as much as you do, and this feels like the best it’s going to get. 

“What took you guys so long, then?” You inquire as you and Toby listen with half attention to Brian and Tim’s conversation. Something about future work, run of the mill proxy lifestyle things. 

Toby rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a handful of dum dum lollipops he lifted. He gives you a toothy grin and nods for you to pick a flavor before he settles on blue raspberry after you’ve chosen. He crinkles the wrapper, shoves it in his pocket and then holds his hand out for you to give him your wrapper as well. He pops the sweet thing in his mouth and savors the taste before shrugging a bit, “you know Tim. That’s how it always is.” He smiles when Tim taps the windshield in slight annoyance. 

“C’mon, get back in the car. We got somewhere to go,” Tim says as he starts the car up. Either you two get in, or he’s driving with you two strapped to the top of the car. 

“Shotgun-!”

“Sh-oh come on,” Toby sighs in defeat as you snicker in triumph and slide off the hood of the car. You pat his shoulder and then round your way to the passenger seat, settling in and feeling oddly warmer despite not registering you were cold to begin with. You watch as Toby slouches his way to the backseat with Brian, who at first, does not want to move for the former runt. When Toby shoves him, Brian only laughs and tells him to ‘not get your panties in a bunch’. 

“So, where are we going?” You ask as Tim puts the car in drive and smoothly leaves the parking lot. You’re always surprised at the places proxies end up. Right now, you’re in southern Illinois right around Ruth’s hometown. You wouldn’t tell her, but you visited her family’s farm and left a small gift. She would say it’s far too much, and even dangerous for proxy influence to be near her folks and younger siblings but The Operator’s always been fond of her. He wouldn’t hurt them. Not while she performs beautifully for him. 

Tim props his left arm up on the sill of the car window, resting his head there as he drives with one hand. He’s very relaxed, preferring driving at night as opposed to dealing with everyone else when the sun is out shining. He won’t admit it either, but he loves autumn nights like these too. He watches the lights of the town start to fade as you head further south. “Stopping in a small proxy town, meeting with EJ, then Jeff is gonna tag along. Something about… a farm? Lotta farms lately,” he chuckles tiredly. “It’s kinda perfect for Halloween - I’ve never seen The Operator so fascinated with a witch before. So, that. He said he wanted us with those two, and we’ll get further directions once we’re at said farm.” 

Brian clears his throat and adjusts his posture so he’s sitting up. “That farm gonna have pumpkins?” He asks. It’s surprisingly out of character for your right hand, arguably one of the most brutal proxies in your team. 

Tim shrugs. “Fuck if I know.” 

You laugh softly, “why? You wanna carve some?”

Some part of Brian’s old world personality shines through. His smile, the crinkle in his eyes despite him being older and no longer a college student but a weathered, jaded proxy is visible as he nods slightly. “Yeah,” he sniffs slightly, gaze now falling out the window at the orange, red and yellow trees visible from the car’s headlights as you pass, only to see them disappear as the four of you roll through. “Always liked autumn,” he says. 

There’s that warm, gentle feeling again. You focus on your lollipop, feeling the presence of something mulled and sweet. This is as good as it’s gonna get. 

“Yeah,” a pause, “me too.” 

[ohcroculus]

❝ Be My Baby ❞ ── Tobias E. Rogers.

pairings; ticci toby x fem!reader

wc: 3.0k

warnings/notes; my own headcanons , reader is teacher in elementary school , this is mostly reader-centered (a way i like to narrate and that i will explain briefly: creepypastas are people alien to the protagonist. therefore, the protagonist will go through life without knowing about the creepypasta until it is too late. most likely, my stories that have functional people -meaning people who work, study or have their normal life- as 'readers' will be of this kind of readings at least in certain cases) , mentions of killing and more. probably some mispelling mistakes.

The recent winter schedule change had applied to your work. As a teacher, it was clear that children would have more difficulty getting up, more trouble responding and that didn't qualify well for your classroom which, despite having children who were very quiet and involved, their parents also had a bad sleep schedule. Especially now.

You liked winter since you were little, maybe because of jumping in puddles of water on streets that had potholes or because you liked being at home by the stove while watching your favorite movies. Now, as an adult, it was a problem.

Your car was still at the mechanic after problems you'd been ignoring for months, but you'd always been someone who ignored those little details.

"It'll be running soon. It just needs a little bump to shake it out” was your way of excusing the roar of the engine that tried to listen to you until one exam morning when it wouldn't start anymore. Your students of course were thrilled.

Now walking in the rain with your umbrella in hand, your backpack on your back and your bag of school supplies in the other hand, you felt that your life was not so bad. The pay was good at school –probably because it was a town with few people– and the children's parents or grandparents were also very polite and understanding of your problems.

In a town where everyone knew each other, it was nice to know that you were already identified as 'Miss' at parent center meetings or neighborhood meetings. Proud of the title that hung in your home, of course. Oh, you had to pay the electric bill this week. A little reminder.

You adjusted your jacket a bit as you kept walking and among the thousands of job postings on the pole, you noticed a recent ad. The rain hadn't yet undone the paper and you slowed your journey to read.

“MISSING PERSON: KATHERINE WOODS. 10 years old.”

Your heart squeezed as you read the description. She was from a couple of towns over, missing after the murder of her parents. You remembered the case, you'd seen it on the news that morning it happened on Channel 5. The bodies were found with their throats slit in their beds, bound and gagged.

It reminded you of a movie that came out a few years ago. Sinister.

A small emptiness remained in your chest thinking about the crimes. Of course that happened in the country, but in small towns? Where everyone knew each other? It was terrible to know that a person came out of nowhere to slaughter people for… fun, in your view. There is no reason to kill innocents. No reason to leave children without their families.

Moving forward, you just wished the poor child would rest in peace. The information was already a week old and you were sure that, with pain in your heart, she was no longer in the world of the living.

“Ah, Miss!” a car passed by you and almost threw water on you, but as they slowed down it was a pleasant distance away to not get you wet. You turned and were surprised to see the father of one of your students and smiled at him, nodding.

“Good morning, Mr. Elias.”

“Would you like a ride?” he asked and for a few seconds you hesitated, but as the rain was slowing down in intensity, you denied. He worked on the outskirts of town and you'd rather he arrive on time. Walking wouldn't take you too long.

“Oh, thank you very much for the offer, but I'm fine. I'll walk,” you smiled at him and he politely insisted.

“Are you sure? It's no problem at all.”

“I'm fine, thank you very much. Have a good day at work.” you nodded and he said goodbye softly, smiling.

His son Thomas was a good boy, just like his father. Humble and caring. He had a good teaching. You still felt sorry for the death of his wife years ago, who sadly committed suicide in the forest.

You turned your head to the opposite side of the street where a few meters away you could see the fences surrounding the immense green place and sighed, thoughtfully.

Death is so close to everyone.

“Tch— t–that bastard–” you heard a little rustle a few steps away from you and as you turned to look ahead, you were surprised to see a boy hunched over. Bah, boy was being very nice, he was a man about your age. In his thirties. Your heart squeezed at the sight of him alone, sitting in the middle of the street and for a few seconds you even thought you recognized him as someone from around, but no.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” you asked from a safe distance. If he was a bum, you'd rather chose he didn't hit you or insult you, but he did neither. Instead, he bopped his head gently, but repeatedly and you took a step closer. “It's raining.” you reported, as if it were a surprise to someone who was completely wet. “You'll get sick if you don't go home.”

He didn't answer you and you didn't want to sit next to him, but the usual instinct of concern –which had been pedagogically formed in you– was stronger and you moved closer, making a small sound before touching his shoulder.

You had already had your share of different children in classrooms and from the way he acted it didn't seem to be a panic attack or something that could be life–threatening, but something of his own. Soft sounds before a physical touch were the ideal thing to avoid sudden movements or aggressive attitude.

“Hey.” you smiled at him and when he turned to look at you you kept the smile, though his face showed nowhere near the kindness you offered.

His hair was wet even underneath the cap of his jacket and he was wearing a black mask that covered his mouth and nose, so you could only see his eyes. They were brown, with a dull tone that made you question whether you should really talk to him. But leaving someone in the rain wasn't very kind and the weight of conscience would come to you later, thinking about what you could have done to help him. “What's your name?”

He blinked repeatedly and stuttered before speaking. “T–t... Tobias.”

“It's nice to meet you, Tobias. What are you doing in the rain?” you asked patiently, squatting down beside him, but he didn't move away, though he didn't move closer either.

“P-problems… with… m–my teammates...” he stammered, looking down at his hands. They looked a little purple, and you became concerned, though you didn't say so explicitly.

“I see,” you nodded and held out the umbrella so it would protect both of you. “Well… it wouldn't be good for you to stay here all morning, would it?” your voice was soft and gentle, the same one you delivered to your colleagues in the morning.

“Y–you don't care. Nobody gives a f–fuck ab–buh–bout what I do” he spat with annoyance and you were quick to correct.

“But you do care, don't you?” you cocked your head to the side, maintaining your smile. “You're here alone for a reason. You wanted time to think and you got caught up in the rain, or am I wrong?”

He snorted, but didn't deny your words and in a kindly way, you extended your umbrella towards him.

“And I care too… because everyone in this town must come home dry. There is always someone waiting for us. Like loved ones or just friendships… don't you think?” his eyes connected with yours and for a moment, he stood looking at you and you could better appreciate his face.

“There's no one for me.” he admitted hoarsely.

“Someday there will be. And it will be worth every second you fought with your coworkers.” you laughed softly and he shook his shoulders. Not a chuckle, but something close to one. “Go on home. Have a good day, Tobias.” you smiled at him as you stood up. The rain was softer now.

For a few seconds he just sat there, watching you leave. You could have sworn he smelled the umbrella, but you chose to ignore it. You always ignored some small details.

…

“All right, then— can you tell me how we feedback today's class?” you smiled at your students and at least three hands shot upward. Almost a month had passed since that rainy day and honestly, everything felt quiet. You didn't run into Tobias again and after talking to people around, you knew there was no Tobias in town, but maybe he was just passing through.

Maybe he was working in the electrical area and stayed at the inn in town. Since the winter started, the electrical problems were getting worse and worse. Short-lived blackouts, lights flickering in certain parts of town. It wasn't beyond belief.

You wrote down a couple of words on the blackboard. Key concepts that the kids copied into their notebooks before they started packing up their things.

“Remember that next week we have a formative activity. Form work groups of no more than four,” you reminded them, sitting down at your desk to begin planning next Monday's classes. Before they could speak to you, you anticipated, “And no, I will not accept groups of five.”

You heard some groans and laughed as you typed on your computer.

“Goodbye, Miss. Have a good afternoon!” ”Bye, Miss.” “Take care!” the goodbyes from the students were not long in coming and after a while, it was just you in the room.

Tap, tap.

You looked up out of inertia to turn to the window, but there was nothing there. It wasn't the first time it had happened, for a few weeks things had felt strange.

It's not that you didn't believe in the paranormal, but it was the first time something had happened to you since you were about twelve years old, maybe it was just the winter changes affecting your sleep and with it, your day.

You picked everything up once you were done, went to the teacher's cafeteria and noticed that it had started to rain again. Drops were falling and sliding down the windows. Maybe that's what you heard earlier. A short drizzle.

“Mhm…” you hummed a song you had heard on the morning radio on your way home as you put away the day's and tomorrow's material. You counted the copies, sighing to yourself.

“Job of four…that would be…so many copies…” you tried to remember, closing your locker and grabbing your backpack. Tomorrow morning you would arrive early to finish organizing it.

Walking at the entrance you politely said goodbye to the janitors who did the same and started walking with your cap on tightly to avoid getting your hair wet.

“Ah, teacher, this way!” in the parking lot of the school you noticed Thomas, raising his hand as his father arranged his scarf, his back to you, but soon Elias turned to see you and smiled sweetly.

“Would you like me to take you this time?” he asked and at the worsening rain, you sighed.

“If it's not too much trouble.” you scratched your cheek somewhat embarrassed, but Thomas was quick to get excited and reach over to take your hand, pulling you with him into the van excitedly.

The ride was uneventful. Thomas was telling his father about the day's homework, about playing with his classmates and more. You watched out the window as father and son had a pleasant conversation in which you preferred not to interject.

Maybe it was your idea as you passed by looking through the woods, but you swore you saw a figure with an axe that dissolved with the droplets fogging the car window.

“Miss, my father wants—” Thomas was interrupted by a loud cough and you turned quickly.

“Mhm?” you nodded, waiting for him to continue and Elias turned onto one of the streets, coming around the block to your place, braking in front of your house.

“I had thought of… inviting you to dinner one of these days?” he smiled shyly, looking to the side.

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, for you hadn't expected them. You knew it had been a while since his wife's death and you didn't want to intrude on a family, but from the look both males gave you, you felt welcome.

“I'll think about it.” you nodded after a few seconds. It wasn't to play hard to get, but rather to be able to, and it's worth the redundancy, think it over.

“Ah, of course. I hope that– the answer is yes, anyway, Miss.” Elias nodded as you got out of the van and smiled at them both.

“Thank you very much. Have a good afternoon. Don't forget your work for next week, Thomas.” you reminded the little boy who nodded.

As the van drove off, a slight but still present headache came to you and you hissed, holding your backpack better to enter your home. The door took a while –it always got stuck somehow– but soon gave way and you stepped inside. You took off your jacket, set your backpack on the couch and got ready to make some hot coffee. Anything to take the chill off your hands.

You tried not to dwell on the issue regarding the Williams' family and instead, got ready to watch TV, changing clothes to something more comfortable with a blanket on your intertwined legs.

Channel 5 promptly started up about another child disappearance which made you sigh nervously and clutch your mug tighter. In a family of five, all dead in some way. There was already starting to be talk of a serial killer a few days earlier. Your classmate, a philosophy professor discussed it in the cafeteria with other colleagues.

“He just goes after families and takes children. God knows what will happen to those poor souls.”

And she was right, which left you with even more anxiety.

You took another sip of coffee as the news moved on and so did the time. The lights flickered a little before your home suddenly went dark. You saw the time on your cell phone on the side and noticed it was almost nine o'clock at night.

There was no noise on the streets beyond the rain, so you calmly texted a co-worker.

“Is the power out at your house?” message sent at 20:43 PM.

“Not here. Did you pay the bill?” message sent at 20:44 PM.

“Yes. I paid it at the beginning of the month.” message sent at 20:44 PM.

“Maybe it's just a sector. It will be back soon.” message sent at 20:46 PM.

You were about to send another message when you heard a glass break from the second floor.

You stood still for a few seconds. Even the slightest noise was pertinent now and the rain was on the back burner.

“Someone broke into my house. Call the police.” message sent at 20:49 PM.

It wasn't a bird. You knew it wasn't. That force was from an elbow breaking glass. You knew because you once had to break the one in your car to get in again.

There was someone. Oh, god, there was someone rummaging through your things and your heart began to race. You stood up, setting the cup down slowly and carefully on the table in front of you, hands shaking.

“I–I'm not a good… s–singer…” the voice made your hair stand on end because you immediately recognized it. A month had passed, but it was impossible not to remember that voice. That stutter. “B–but I thought that… f–f–for a first date… it's ideal–to bring… m–music…”

The wood of the stairs creaked and with silent steps, you walked to the table, hiding underneath.

“And for those in love… this is a song by Anonymous for… a very special woman he met on a rainy day like this. We're moving on to Be My Baby by The Ronettes!"

The music gave you goosebumps and an instinct to gag was immediate as your body trembled to keep from crying.

“I uh, p–picked it for you…do you like it?” he kept moving forward and you heard his soft footsteps. “Be my… be my baby…” he sang in unison with the chorus. “I heard that… you put it on your-f-f-first day of school… to put the k–kids at ease…”

You couldn't even speak as you begged God to please don't die. That he would go away. That this was just a nightmare.

“Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you”

The music dropped a little as you heard him a few steps away from you and heard your phone vibrate on the couch.

“Fuck” your lips quivered as you raised your head in despair.

“My girlfriend and I... are b–buh...busy.” he spoke after answering, dropping the phone on the floor and you saw the glow of the electronic go out as his axe split it in two.

It was him. In the woods on your way back. Another wave of fear invaded your body.

“Come out, p–please… my boss doesn't give me… m–muh–much time off…” he muttered, still walking until he settled on the table and you heard him sigh. “I–I brought your… umb–brella…”

He was about to turn around when the lights came on again and you heard him give a light chuckle.

“You were waiting for me with a s–surprise…?”

The television in the morning was turned on as usual.

HORROR IN WILLOW CREEK: MAN FOUND DEAD, SON AND TEACHER MISSING

Willow Creek, February 12th, 2014.

A gruesome crime has shaken the quiet town of Willow Creek after Elias Williams, 36, was found brutally murdered in his home Sunday night. His death, described by authorities as “cruel and violent,” has only deepened the mystery surrounding the disappearance of his son, Thomas Williams, 9, and the boy’s teacher that we don’t have enough information about besides her age, 31.

According to investigators, Elias and Thomas were last seen Friday afternoon when they dropped Thomas’ teacher off at her home during a heavy rainstorm. When police searched her house, the only thing left behind was an open umbrella near the principal door with blood that, according to authorities, was from Mr. Williams.

Sheriff Mark Grayson has called the case "deeply disturbing" and urged anyone with information to come forward.

[oculusdesamores]

hii, i will start by saying if you feel like it you can totally skip this ask i understand this may be triggering for some people but i was thinking if you could do skme hcs (sfw or nsfw it's really up to you idm) with Braian or tim with a really skinny and petite reader :)

hope you have a good day!! :3

Brian and Tim with a skinny! Reader NSFW Headcanons

A.n.: These are not canon things just my hcs and how I picture them :))!!

TIM

I feel like tim would actually be somewhat into it considering , he's a short king himself

He LOVVEESS wrapping his arms around your waist

Cough cough size kink cough cough

You being small and him being broader just enlightens something in him

So expect to have his arms wrapped around you at all times, over your shoulder, around your waist etc.

while you guys are going at it he loves to have his hands holding your hips and to be holding you up (which is why he often fucks you while you're standing)

Loves the way you clench around him and depend on hin to hold him up heh

He's a hairy hairy man and seeing your smooth and clear skin and just the difference in both of you is exhilarating for him

Your skin so smooth and perfect, his scarred and gnarly

He just wants to protect you ♡♡

He's so husband material guys

Brian

The difference between tim and Brian is that he would feel a bit weird, dating a someone who's way smaller than him

However his love for you overturns that feeling quick

He may or may not get these feelings here and there but it will not stop him from eating you out as if you were his last meal <3

Despite not having a size kink, he still loves curling up around you and he also INSISTS that you're the smaller spoon

He's definitely afraid to break you during sex or hurt you in anyway so he will often hold his true desire to fuck you stupid back

However a man can only last so long...

Wear something slightly revealing while he's pent up? Yeah he's already on you, lips on your neck, fingers on your clit and coaxing you to let him sink into you

He loves you dearly and also often loves having you on top so he can see you bounce on his cock

Dirty talk all the way through, this man can degrade you, praise you, whatever you're into he'll do it just for you <3

[lana-llama]

Reader in spill your guts.

Bitch had a dog and a gun during an abduction scene and went

“teehee. Let me do NOTHING but hide in the bathroom.”

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[minikoko-a]

i want to make some general headcanons of a relationship with the proxies HEHEHEHE

AND OF COURSE MY GIRL KATE WILL BE INCLUDED

(btw, even though Tim and Brian are both in Marble Hornets and Creepypasta, i'll specify depending on whether i'm writing about MH or creepypasta!)

[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.