#marble hornets fanfic

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Trying out using a poll for this. For no particular reason, no reason at all, who would make a better god of time out of the MH guys? (except Jay, he's the human sacrifice who gets to actually have sex with said god lol)

[endataraxia]

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

[toolobster4u]

Marble Hornets should have had it’s own anime beach episode halfway through

[limeartichoke]

new brim fic i wrote you guys should go check it out...

the tl;dr of it is tim hates himself and thinks Brian won't like him, but he is wrong and they kiss. also Tim's internal monologue is very, very horny

[sadgurl805]

syg fanart of alexis and her tits cuz i’m constantly re-reading the story tehehe

p.s: for @itsabee and @13tinysocks :)!!

[ticcitobys4286thlover]

tw: orgasm denial, teasing, thigh riding

Hoodie was the listener, and you were always the talker, it was simple. It never bothered him, he just found it cute how you get really happy just talking about your day or what you saw.

So, now that you're naked, rutting your pussy on his thigh trying to reach that certain spot,  he couldn't help but want to talk to you more.

“You know, I really wanna hear about your day.” he says, bucking his leg upwards causing you to let out a small whimper. But you couldn't respond, you were too drunk on pleasure that all you could respond was with your moans.

“I'm talkin’ to you love, or are you not gonna tell me about your day?” he says with a shit eating grin. 

“But I-but I did! I *ngh* swear I did!”

“But I don't seem to remember, you sure you did Hun?” this time however, he reached down low with his right hand and started doing little sloppy circles around your clit, teasing you even more.

A mix between a yes and a moan was what came out of your mouth. But he wanted more, he couldn't just let you have what you wanted without having what he wanted.

You started rutting your cunt even more on his thigh, like you were desperately trying to reach something, and he fully caught onto that. He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up from his thigh making you whimper at the feeling.

“I was almost there! Just let me–just let me cum, please!” tears from the recent moment started appearing,

“C'mon pretty, just tell me one simple thing you did today, and I'll let you cum, simple.” he says, doing little circles on the sides of your waist.

“I went to the–to the park...” you said, trying your best to form a sentence.

“And what’d you see?” he said back, tossing his head to the side.

“Something abandoned, but I can't, I can't remember.” you said, looking back at him, giving him pleading eyes. “Can I just please please, please, just–!” and before you could even continue, he pulled you back down, this time moving you himself, not loosening his grip.

He was going at a way faster pace than you were, your puffy clit rubbing against the material of his rough jeans, but by then, you couldn't even feel the way it felt, you were too focused on finding that high again.

Finally, when you did, you came right on the spot, rolling your eyes back while grabbing the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“That sounded fun.” he said, placing a kiss against your forehead.

[studentfilmyoulying]

Sad Sethlex

Ship: Seth Wilson x Alex Kralie (but like barely)

Word count: 378

Triggers: blood, guns, character death, angst

—————————————————————————

His vision was blurry at first, like when you first wake up, and when it cleared Alex prayed this was a dream. He knew though that not even his worst nightmares compared to this. Looking down, he saw a gun in his hand and he dropped it as if scalded. Alex stared at it on the ground, refusing to look at the other thing. The other person.

Then his brain kicked in though, and he realized there could be a chance to save him. The second the thought crosses his mind, Alex jerks into motion, his knees slamming hard on the dirty concrete in front of him. He quickly feels for a heartbeat and is met with a dull, barely there, pulse. His mind scrambles to remember any first-aid tips. Stop the bleeding. Right. He tears off a clean piece of his friend's white shirt and holds it to the wound. In a matter of seconds, the scrap is soaked though, it's a losing battle and he knows it.

Alex doesn't care at this point if he gets blood on him and reaches out to his friend — his last friend. The body is light and easily moves onto Alex's lap. He cradles the dying boy as the tears start to fall. "What have I done?" He thinks aloud.

"Seth...Seth, you're fine, it's going to be fine I promise. I got you, it's okay. We'll get out of this together. I've been planning for us to get out of this together. Seth please....please you have to be okay," his pleading is broken up by the sobs wracking his body, "I can't do this without you. I need you, Seth. Please...I love you."

His vision is going blurry again, and Alex is unsure at first if it's the tears or if he's losing consciousness. The roaring in his ears makes him believe it's the latter though. It's that thing.

"No! You can't have him, I gave you the others, I was supposed to keep this one. You can't have Seth. Please." Alex begs, but his vision is only getting worse, he can't feel his arms to tell if Seth is even still there or not. He chokes back a scream of frustration as he blacks out again.

————————————————————

Do you like this? Or have fanfic ideas but you aren't good at writing? Something in particular you want to see but can't find anywhere? Give me a follow and send an ask and I'd be happy to write it! 🙂

[h0rnyfanficwriter]

-I can't find the gif thing, so pls don't read this if your a minor -

Marble Hornets | P0rn star AU |

It was a cold winter, the frost bit at Jay's pale lips as he shivvered with each gust of frozen wind. It was getting late he didn't realise this new route back from the grocery store was so long, and just in line with Jay's horrific luck, the rain crashed down upon him, beating him like bullets. He looked arround for shelter although there were no bus stops no cardboard boxes there was a door the door to Alex's apartment building franticly he sped over and pulled his hand down the call buttons quickly being let in. He took a deep breath as he stepped into the dry , warmed lobby and then calmly waddled up the stairs holding decaying brown paper bags full of food and toiletries he gave a light knock on Alex's door with the free finger he had. After a minute of what sounded like panicked scuffling. Eventually, Alex opens the door, looking dishevelled. "Um, hi ...jay."

Alex looks at him with confusion "I'm sorry I didn't call I...there was bad rain...it was so cold" he gave a sympathetic smile looking down at Jay's small shivering body "don't worry. Come in. " With a small chuckle, he opened up the door and took some of Jay's bags off him. "Sit . I'll make you coffe" Jay was used to Alex's abruptness he knew it was Alex's actions that spoke more than his words and the way he was lovingly pouring the milk or drawing latte art into the foam made jay wholesomely blush. A few minutes later, Alex came to the couch with Jay's coffee and a can of mountain dew for himself they turned on a movie 'spiderman' one of Jay's favourites. Halfway through Alex's ranting and raving about the special effects , the acting, the plot died down, and he drifted off the sleep. Jay couldn't sleep. The lovely coffee kept him up , awake , so like any normal person with a massive crush on his best friend, he went snooping . He had been in Alex's room before but something about going in today felt diffrent secret and dirty and boy was his feeling correct after creaking open the door his eyes widened "um" his pupils pinpointed to the set up before him. one of Alex's video cameras on a tripod and a set of dildos and cock rings splayed out on a table in front of him Jay's cheeks lit up like christmas lights a wild desire pulled him inwards his hands reached for the camera and his trembling hands hit play. A quiet video played jay saw Alex on his bed in positions he had never seen before plying extensively with eatch of the toys on the table 'how is he fitting that ...in there' jay was so distracted by the craziness he's just seen that he didn't notice his growing hard on in his pants not until Alex had a dildo inside him and pre cum already coating his cock Jay's hard on was making his pants unbearably tight so with one quick glance to the fast asleep Alex he flicked through the hours of porn and took out hid cock and desperately pumped his hand down his cock clutching on to the camera he saw Alex by himself , older videos with other boys even him doing themed scenes and of course the shots were artistic and beautiful because evry film by Alex has to be pretentious even the porn and when his mind finally became lost in the shots of Alex's cock or his orgasam eyes he felt the knot in his abdomen snap loseing all control he came all over his hand with a loud "fuck" one of the small few times jay swore. He felt relaxed he stumbled back slightly against the wall he powered off the camera and placed it back on its tripod and with the click of the camera he heard "most people have to pay for that~" with pin-point pupils he slowly turned "Alex?" Bjt Alex wasn't mad or upset , he greeted jay with a sultry smile."You got another round in you?"

[spittingbloodandscreaming]

Hiya!! Your writing is so good!!

any way you can write some Alex Kralie x gn reader fluff?? Maybe reader like comforting him during a paranoid breakdown or something

AHHH I'm sorry you waited so long :(( I'm taking forever to get to requests!! I promise I'm not forgetting about any of you!! I really hope you enjoy <3

It's Enough (Alex Kralie x Reader fluff[I think])

Alex gets this way a lot now.

He hasn't been this bad in a while, though. Normally, he just needs a nap or some time to breathe in a fully lit room. You're fully prepared for all of that, it makes sense enough, but you aren't exactly sure what to do when he has to lock all the doors and windows, all the while insisting that something is gonna get him. And insisting you need better blinds. 

This time, Alex locked himself in the bathroom. You know because you can hear the crying and murmuring from the bedroom, all at random intervals.

Alex is in there, sitting on the bath mat and leaning against the wall. He swears he can feel the walls closing in on him, the kind of thing where you’re not sure if the world is about to go black. He tries excruciatingly hard to focus on something, but the second he looks at an object in the room, it blurs into nothing. He tries the bath mat—nothing. He can feel tears stinging his cheeks. He looks up at the mirror, from an angle he can’t see himself in it. The light from the ceiling reflects into nothing. He closes his eyes and buries his head in his arms. His knees are to his chest. He can’t breathe. He just hears buzzing. He’s dying. Alex is so sure he’s dying.

You knock on the door. You’re kneeling on the carpet now, resting your head against the plywood. You try your hardest to listen for any signs of life, and ultimately end up with exactly what you had before—breathing. At least that means he’s alive, if nothing else. You really worry when Alex gets like this. You know he’s not exactly the most stable, especially not recently. You move from kneeling to sitting with your back against the door and knees up to your chest. You just want to know Alex is okay.

You knock again. “Alex, is everything okay in there?” You speak softly, trying to emphasize that you really just want to talk to him. “I think you should open the door. You’ve been in there for a few hours.” You’re pleading with him now. After a few moments you hear him sigh, and a gentle shuffle. Alex opens up the door, causing you to fall very ungracefully on your back infront of him. He looks down at you, face red and defeated. He’s not wearing his glasses, and you wonder briefly where they are as Alex offers you his hand to help you up. It’s a bit of an awkward angle for that sort of thing, but you take it anyway, twisting around on your way up so that you face him once you’re standing. You hug him tight, pressing his arms to his sides, making it so he can’t really hugh you back, but that’s okay. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You let go of him, moving your hands to his shoulders. As relived as you are, you’re still worried about him.

Alex sighs. “I don’t know, I don’t think I need anything.” He moves your hands away and walks past you to sit on the bed. He puts his head in his hands and breathes slowly. He’s trying really hard to not keep crying. He’s focusing really hard on his breathing, but focusing on one thing doesn’t make the rest go away. He’s shaking. You sit down next to him on the edge of the bed, and when there’s no protest, you put your arm around him.

“I really love you Alex, and I’m not sure what’s going on, but I want you to know that, okay?” You lean into him, trying to hold his hand. He's limp for a moment before he realizes this is a gesture he should reciprocate. He holds your hand back, and then puts his other hand over both of yours. Alex is still looking down—his eyes fixed on a spot of carpet. He's crying, you think. You can't hear him, but you're sure you can see tears rolling down his face. 

“I love you too.” Alex is so quiet. He's so small. He looks so empty but so full. You hug him, taking the hand that isn't holding his and putting it in his hair. He's so pretty, he's so kind, you wish he was happy. You wish there was anything you could do to help him. You aren't sure there is, and that hurts worse than seeing him this way—knowing you can't help. You can be here, though, that's something. It means the most, doesn't it? Just being with someone. You hope it does. You hope it means as much to Alex as it does to you.

To Alex, it means the world.

[seth-likes-pepsi]

"Nothing is wrong."

A Jaylex fanfic about Jay's reaction to Alex's change in behaviour during Marble Hornets, intended to be platonic :p

Jay's living room was dark, light shut off, and curtains drawn. The only light source came from the small TV settled on a shabby cabinet that Jay always worried would break under the slightest pressure. The screen displayed a scene from Fight Club, Jay could never get into it, but Alex always seemed to love it. With every change in scene or camera angle, Jay knew to expect a long and passionate rant about every detail of it, even obscure things that most people wouldn't know to point out after several watches. But this time was different. It had been different for a while. Instead of proudly speaking over the whole film, he simply sat there and stared at the screen, occasionally coughing or shaking slightly. It seemed as though he was disconnected from reality or in a weird trance. This wasn't Alex, or at least the Alex that Jay knew.

It had been a couple of weeks since Jay finally realised that something was wrong with Alex. Perhaps it was his frequent coughing fits, or his unpredictable temper, or maybe his constantly growing collection of tapes. Jay attempted to speak to him about it, only to be consistently shut down or brushed off.

"I just have a sore throat."

"I'm exhausted."

"You're thinking into it too much."

"Nothing is wrong."

As time passed and it continued, Jay struggled to figure out who Alex was trying to lie to. He worried that every time Alex had assured Jay he was fine or made an excuse, he was trying so badly to convince himself of that, that everything was fine, that he was the same person he'd always been. The thought tore him up inside. Was Alex okay? Was something happening? What could Alex possibly be hiding? 

Jay's thoughts spiralled over the coming months, with Alex's worsening and concerning behaviour slowly consuming Jay's thoughts. Until it finally stopped, and Alex moved away, but not without leaving one last piece of himself. The tapes. The tapes he'd been so protective of. Jay struggled to cope with Alex moving away. It felt like he'd hit a dead end with someone he used to call his best friend. The thought of the tapes made his skin crawl, Alex's attitude towards them made him want to throw them out himself. What the fuck was on those tapes. Surely it was just Marble Hornets footage, right? Jay couldn't take it much longer and shoved the box in the depths of his wardrobe, hoping to forget about them.

[cryptomiracle]

✯sharpsh××ter✯

outlaw masky(tim wright) x fem!bounty hunter reader pt1

sharpshooter - by M

synopsis: it's 1891, you're a bounty hunter & you've been tracking down a certain outlaw with a hefty reward on his head for two years, but when you finally catch him, you realize you may be way in over your head.

a little jig for you to listen to while u read :)

WARNING(S)!!

This is only part one!

Guns

Reader is kinda money hungry/money motivated

Alcohol

Psychical fights

Cursing

I'm horrible at describing terrain LOL

Pronouns aren't used on reader until part two, although words like wife/lady are used.

(this is supposed to be from a second pov)

Pet names (sweetheart, doll, honey, darlin' etc)

Reader isn't aware that tim is masky (it's explained later)

Breaking of bones

Mentions of crimes / crimes being committed (murder, robbery, etc)

This is more than likely inaccurate to that time period

Although the warnings may say otherwise, this is really just a silly little fanfic

✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷

*BANG*

the saloon doors slammed open, followed by the sound heavy footsteps, along with the jingle of spurs.

You could hear as the footsteps got closer and closer, the feeling of anticipation caused your blood to pump faster.

you looked up from your glass, and looked at the bartender, whose hands were shaking ever so slightly.

???:"I heard you been lookin' for me"

you heard a deep voice come from beside you

You quickly downed the rest of your whiskey before you slowly cut your eyes to where the voice was coming from, to see the one and only...

Tim wright

✯(Age: 28

Bounty: 5'000

Crimes: multiple counts of robbery, extortion, and forgery)✯

you: "and who might you be?"

you looked down at your empty cup

you knew damn well you had been asking around town about him, but you decided to play it safe.

tim: "don't act like you don't know.."

he roughly knocked your cup out of your hand, causing it to hit the floor and burst

you turned your head to face him, annoyance apparent on your face.

you: "you wanna take this outside?"

your eye slightly twitched

tim: "what? you scared to lose in front of all these people?"

Leaning against the bar, he chuckled as he looked around the room

You leaned closer to him, your face inches away from his

you: "I didn't mean a fist fight, Tim"

you backed away slowly, and placed your hand on your gun holster

You watched as the realization hit him

He slightly hesitated before replying

tim: "alright.."

he sighed as he stood up from his seat and made his way to the exit, he paused in front of the door before speaking again

tim: "you comin' sweetheart?

you got up from your seat as well, hand still on your gun.

you saw the distressed faces of the people in the bar as you walked by.

tim: "ladies first"

He took off his black, dusty hat and held it on his chest as he bowed and he held the door open for you

you only gave him an unimpressed look

you: "you go right ahead"

he sighed unenthusiasticly as he stepped out.

you followed him, staying close behind him to make sure he didn't try to run off, which you doubted he would do.

You took a moment to look up at the night sky, which was littered with stars.

when you brought your attention back to him, you noticed he was staring at you, his brown eyes glistening under the full moon.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

You started to speak, attempting to ease the tightness in your throat

you: "on the count of five.."

he pulled back his coat to reveal a revolver

He placed his hand on it gently, he had this dangerous look in his eye, one that told you he would eat you alive if you weren't careful

everything went deafeningly silent, the only sound coming from your short breaths.

1..

2..

3..

before you got to four, you saw him reach for his gun

You quickly drew your colt, and shot him in the thigh.

He yelled as he fell to the ground, and fired a shot.

The bullet wizzed past you, luckily not hitting you.

tim: "DAMN!"

he winced as his blood spilled out unto the ground.

you walked over to him and knelt down in front of him, you looked down at him with a slight grin.

you: "cheater.."

you whispered to him

You twirled your gun around, so that you were holding the barrel.

You then hit him in the head with the handle of your gun, and watched as sleep overtook him.

✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷

He slowly gained consciousness, and squinted his eyes, the brightness of the sun temporarily blinding him.

the sound of hoofs clacking ringed in his ears.

He took in his surroundings, only to realize he was not where he once was.. instead he was in the middle of the desert, the only signs of life in his field of vision other than himself being a few cacti here and there, along with a bit of dry grass.

He turned his head to the right, ignoring the pain in his head and saw his horse.

He followed the rope that was tied to his horse to see the torso of an unfamiliar horse, along with a pair of boots, and the bottom of skirt flopping up and down in front of his face

He felt anger overcome him as he remembered what had happened the night before.

tim: "mmph!"

He squirmed as he tried to say something, but it came out as a mumble because of the gag in his mouth.

you: "good mornin' darlin!"

You said in a cheery tone of voice, only fueling the anger that was bubbling up in him.

you: "how'd ya sleep?"

masky/tim: "MMHP, MMMMM"

He attempted to speak once more.

you: "oh, right"

You reached around and pulled the gag down to his neck.

tim: "YOU M0THERF#CKER"

Taking no time to catch his breath, he instantly yelled at you, rage evident in his voice.

you: "sorry to tell you this, but there's a slight chance you may have a concussion"

you cut your eyes toward him

you were clearly trying to get a reaction out of him,(and it worked) you knew you didn't hit him hard enough to give him a concussion.

tim: "D#MN YOU TO HELL!"

after a few minutes of him cursing at you, you got tired of it and put the gag back in his mouth.

And yet he continued to yell, although it was intelligible.

hours went by, the sun was starting to set and you knew you'd have to rest for the night.

Tim had stopped yelling awhile ago, which would be worrying if you didn't have him bound, and wounded.

You slowed down in speed as you approached a plateau, you decided to settle here for the night.

you hopped off your horse and tied the horses to a log, to keep them from running away.

you then pulled tim off the back of your horse, causing him to hit the ground face first.

tim: "hmmp!"

he groaned

you rolled him over, and set him up against the same log you had your horses tied too.

you: "I'm gon' get some firewood, don't move.."

He thought about attempting to run, he really did,, but he decided against it.. figuring that if he were to successfully escape, he'd have to plan it out.

you left him there to look for anything flammable you could find, luckily when you came back he was where you left him.

you: "I figured you'd try to run off while I was gone"

He groaned.

you lightly grinned at him before removing the gag once more.

tim: "I would have, if it weren't for the HOLE IN MY LEG."

you laughed as you noticed a vein in his head pop out.

You put the various sticks, and grass you found on the ground and made a fire.

you set across from him, leaning against the hard wall of the plateau.

tim: "who are you anyway?"

he huffed, although you could barely see it, he had a slight curious glint in his eye

you: "now why would I tell you my name?"

tim: "well, how are we supposed to become friends if I don't know your name?"

you: "so you think we're gon' be friends?"

You chuckled, the audacity of this man? To think that the two of you could be anything even close to friends was a very strong reach. he was up to something you just couldn't figure what it was he was up too.

tim: "oh, I think we're gon' be a lot more than friends.."

He cooed as he leaned back into a more relaxed position and gave you a serious, yet sly look.

That's when you realized what he was doing

Tim was a very handsome man, that you couldn't deny.. but you couldn't allow yourself to fall for his tricks, nor his advances.

You felt your cheeks slightly heat up as you paused for a minute, deciding on what to say.

The silence was heavy, and awkward.

But only on your part, Tim on the other hand found enjoyment in your slow reaction.

you: "we're goin' to town tomorrow so I can turn you in and finally be rid of you"

You said bitterly, as the heat in your cheeks dissipated

He sighed in discontent once he realized that his charms wouldn't work on you so easily

you stared down at the fire, and watched as the flames grew higher & swayed from side to side, almost as if they were alive.

Surely enough you drifted off to sleep, the moon shining brightly above the two of you.

You felt eyes on you the whole night, you weren't exactly sure if they were his eyes or something else, either way you didn't sleep very well that night.

✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷✯✷

you felt lightheaded as you awoke slowly

your eyes shot open as you realized that tim wasn't where you left him

You quickly gathered yourself, and stood up.

You looked around, the horses were still there so you knew he was on foot.

You packed up the few things you had out, then you untied your horses and started following tracks he had left behind.

you didn't exactly know how he got free, all you knew was that the rage that had been building up over these two years of chase, was finally bubbling over.

You had spent two years chasing after this assh#le, you weren't gonna let him get away that easily.

you: "c'mon!"

you pulled on the reins, causing the horse to run faster

You followed after the messy tracks he had left

you felt the breeze blow against your face, causing any stray hairs to fly back.

Soon enough, his blurry silhouette came into view.

You felt sweat drip off of your forehead, heat radiating off of the golden sand.

He started to pick up his pace as he heard the sound of hooves clacking.

Despite his attempt at running away, you caught up with him, blocking his path as you pulled your horse in front of him.

You hopped off of your horse, and tackled him to the ground. He yelled a mixture of different curse words as his body roughly hit the ground, you raised your fist, then brought it down in one swift movement.

You watched as blood started to spill from his nose, he began to squirm under you, trying to break free.

You used your weight to keep him down, before hitting him once more with your right hand.

You raised your left hand once again preparing to punch him, but before you could he had grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him

He took no time to jump on top of you, and wrap his hands around your throat.

He squeezed tightly, you could feel the air in your lungs be forced out as a burning sensation overtook your body, you attempted to break free of his grasp you kicked, and punched, and scratched, but to no avail.

You looked up at him, your vision becoming blurry, you couldn't quite make out the expression on his face, all you could see was the blood dripping from his possibly broken nose

You then remembered the bullet wound in his leg.

You pulled down the bandage you had previously put on his leg and dug your finger into the hole as hard as you could.

He yelled as his grasp around your neck weakened, you took that chance to push him off of you and onto the ground.

You both just laid there for a while, trying to get over the throbbing pain you were both experiencing.

You groaned as you sat up, leaving an imprint on the sand.

You turned to your side, and looked at him intensely.. he only turned his head and looked back at you with an amused look on his face, followed by a chuckle.

tim: "you know.."

He started to speak

Before he could finish his sentence, you roughly kicked him in the stomach, the heel of your boot digging into his gut.

he mumbled something unintelligible as he rolled onto his side, while clutching his stomach.

you fully pulled yourself off of the ground, you stood tall over him, the sun gleaming behind you, casting a blinding glow around you.

You pulled your gun out of it's holster, and pointed it straight at his face, he looked up at you, with a look in his eye that gave you nothing but goosebumps.

You swallowed that lump in your throat, and started to speak.

you: "you try to run off again.."

you paused, only adding on to the pressure that was weighing heavily.

you: "and I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head."

venom seething from your words, you roughly grabbed him by his arm and pulled him up off the ground.

You grabbed some spare rope from your bag, and tied him up once more.

This time, you tied his hands behind his back, and his feet.. tightly.

You stowed him on your horse, and started on your way to the nearest town.

✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯⁠✯

i will be reading over this to check for any mistakes, if you spot any please do tell me!!

[squarebracketsmileyface]

do you ever picture what things would be like if, somehow, the stars aligned and allowed Tim and Brian to reunite sooner? i had a dream last night where they found each other when Tim was HEAVILY pregnant with Birdie/Birdie was still a teeny-tiny baby, and Brian felt so guilty over losing Jark (Jay/Lark) and overall everything that Hoodie had caused (i go by Joseph DeLage's statement that Brian wasn't in control/not in full control when he was in Hoodie ModeTM), so Brian just went, 'i have to atone for my involvement, and do good by Jark and be a shoulder to lean on for Tim/bonus parent for tiny Birdie since Jark isn't here' and i've been Fucked Up ever since X_X

also, this just gave me the funniest image of Brian just casually wheeling down the sidewalk in Wherevertown going to wherever he needs to be, and ten yards ahead is Tim (with his back to Brian so he doesn't realize immediately), either pregnant AF or carrying baby Birdie in a carrier or whatever, having to stoop/squat to pick up something he'd dropped on the ground; either Brian sees Tim's ass as he's bending over and thinks 'gawd dayum' OR Brian's not as far behind, so when Tim drops the thing, Brian comes to save the day because he carries around a little grabber/pair of salad tongs in the even this situation happens to HIM. Tim either stands up and turns enough for Brian to see his face OR they do the little cliche romcom movie thing where they both just happen to look up at the same time and immediately meet eyes O_O

dear god this got long, one and one thousand pardons aaa

Oh my god I fucking love this. I hadn't thought about this before, but I'm definitely going to now, because god that'd be amazing, things would probably turn out so much more easily for Tim if this had happened. Because in 'canon' he lost Jay, Brian and Alex all at the same time and he feels awful about it. Like sure, Brian isn't dead, but Tim doesn't know that and he massively blames himself for it. He was the reason Brian let go of that ledge and landed just wrong enough for it to kill him. He didn't go back soon enough to check on Brian, to see if he actually was dead, and if he wasn't, was just passed out or paralysed, Tim not going back to check would have doomed him anyway; no one would have known where he was, Benedict hall was abandoned so chances were that no one would find Brian lying there for hours, and if he had internal damage, that length of time was something that'd kill him.

This got... Long :)

Also calling Jay/Lark Jark is so fucking funny, I love it so much 💀

And also also, Tim bending over and Brian being like "👁️ Damn 👁️" At him is absolutely something that happens, in this lil au, and also just in 'canon' Sorry, It's Locked, that's just gonna be them for the rest of their lives. They're gonna be 80 year old men, and Tim's gonna bend over, and Brian's gonna whoosh past him and smack his ass on the way by. They're gonna be sickeningly in love forever. They're gonna be head over heels for each other for the rest of their lives.

This was really fun to think about. I'm probably not gonna get round to actually working on S,IL until after Christmas now, so it was fun to be able to dash out a longish thing about S,IL without having to care about continuity or making it read nicely and all that lol.

So Tim reuniting with Brian right after losing him? I'm thinking they meet before the crossroads episode, while Tim's still trying to get his life sorted out and figure out what to do, where to go, how to be a single parent of a newborn who constantly reminded him of the partner he'd lost. He was in hell. He was beating himself up for everyone's deaths, practically feeling like they were done by his own hands, even though only Alex's was. So if he dropped something, carrying baby Birdie and maybe some shopping bags in his hands, so he couldn't easily grab it himself, and he saw a lil grabber coming out of nowhere to pick the thing up for him, and turned around to be faced with Brian? I think he'd probably have a break down in the street, a little.

I think at first he wouldn't let himself be fully convinced it's actually Brian. He hasn't seen Brian's face since uni, pretty much, except on the tapes, and they're blurry as all hell, so he tries not to get his hopes up. He tries not to kid himself that this helpful guy is Brian. He's thinner than Brian ever was, he has a beard and mustache than Brian never had, he's in a wheelchair and he looks much more subdued than Brian ever did. But this guy's eyes just widen, and he almost whispers Tim's name, like he's also terrified of this being nothing but a cruel twist of the universe.

So Tim whispers his name back, disbelieving and on the verge of tears, putting his grocery bags on the floor and holding Birdie tighter because he just needs to. And Brian nods with tears in his eyes and his lip wobbling a bit as he tries to figure out what he should even say. What do you say to the best friend you haven't seen in years? What do you say when that friend is kinda of the reason you have a spinal cord injury? What do you say when that friend has a baby in his arms and you don't even know enough about his life anymore to know how or when or who.

In the end he just settles on "I'm sorry."

Tim stares at him like he has two heads, almost angry as he asks what the fuck Brian has to be sorry for. Tim's the one to blame for Brian's current situation, Tim's to blame for everything! But Brian is the one apologising? They stay in the street like that for a while, probably too long with how many people step onto the road to walk around them, giving them a mixture of concerned and irritated looks. Eventually they decide to move, head back to Brian's place because Tim knows the lift up to his apartment is broken and has been for ages (he hadn't thought it'd matter before, he wasn't going to be staying there long, planning on moving away from that goddamn town, that goddamn state as soon as humanly possible).

They talk on the way there, Brian offering to carry things for Tim, but realising that the only thing he could really carry would be Birdie in her little baby wrap carrier, because Tim's grocery bags are those really big ones and would tip over really easily if Brian so much as leant forwards an itch. And Tim's not going to just hand his baby over. Sure, this is Brian, but he's been a somewhat malicious seeming presence in Tim's life for years now and he can't quite trust him, not yet, not with his baby, not with the last living piece of Jay that he had left. So they make their way slowly slowly slowly across town, Tim taking frequent breaks any time they get to somewhere he can sit for even a minute.

They talk about everything. Absolutely everything they can.

Brian asks about Birdie first.

"what's their name?" "She's called Birdie."

"That's a nice name, and she's yours?" "Yeah... All mine." Tim says that but with tears in his eyes and his bottom lip curling over as he tries not to cry.

"Yours and..." "Yeah, mine and Jay's." Tim's voice is all croaky when he answers and they reach another place he can sit down, because he just needs a moment to put his bags down again and wrap both of his arms gently around Birdie's tiny body where it's wrapped securely against his chest.

"I'm so sorry." "She's all I have left of him, didn't even know I was pregnant until after he was gone... Finding out was..." "A lot?" "I felt like I was suffocating."

Brian just nods. He feels awful. He feels just as much like this is his fault as Tim does and they finish the rest of their walk in mostly silence. They don't let the conversation stray back to difficult things when they get back to Brian's place, it's just as shitty as Tim's apartment, but it's at least fairly accessible, and he and Brian try to keep things normal for a bit, trying to catch up like they were just normal people who'd lost touch after uni. But they can't really do that, can they? Because they aren't normal people, Tim had thought Brian was dead for years, only to find out he'd been wrong when he thought he was watching him die again. Brian had stolen Tim's meds, he'd stalked him and Jay around for months on end and made them feel almost as unsafe as Alex had.

They aren't normal people.

So the topic finds its way back to MH. They talk about what they remember, about uni and what had happened to Brian when he disappeared after that. Tim finds out that Brian barely remembers most of the last few years, felt like he was watching his body getting piloted around by someone else while he was trapped inside, and he tells Brian about his own memory loss.

Brian remembers at least some scattered bits and pieces from the times he and Tim in the mask were together. He talks about the relief of knowing that Tim was at least alive still, and about how even when he felt like he had no control over himself, he was glad that his body seemed to remember that Tim wasn't a threat, was someone he cared about, someone he loved. He also talks about the end, when he'd let go of that ledge and for the first time in years that felt like an action he had been fully in control of.

He doesn't regret it, he also isn't somehow happy he did it, it was just a thing that happened. What he's really glad for is the fact that Tim didn't have to go the rest of his life thinking he'd killed someone, that he'd killed him. Tim tells him about Alex, about how he had killed someone, and there was no mistaking it for an accident like there could have been with Brian. Tim had slit Alex's throat with Jay's penknife, mercy for Alex and revenge for Jay.

They talk and talk and talk, have dinner together before Tim has to leave to put Birdie to bed properly and take some time to himself so he can scream into a pillow. They get each other's phone numbers though, they refuse to lose contact with each other again.

They meet up as often as they possibly can after that first accidental time, mostly just spending their time at Brian's place, just talking. Tim obviously brings Birdie with him every time, he doesn't have anywhere he can leave her, doesn't have a childminder or anything, and, y'know, she's a newborn, she's only a few months old. So she comes with him. The first few times, she stays in Tim's arms or his lap, he doesn't let go of her the whole time, and Brian doesn't ask to hold her. He gets it. He understands as much as he possibly can from what Tim's told him, about how she's all he has left of Jay, about how he just can't trust Brian with holding her just yet, needs to have her in his arms so he knows she's safe.

Tim's told him about the nightmares he has. He dreams about losing Jay, he dreams about losing Brian, and he especially dreams about losing Birdie. It's almost nightly, he wakes up terrified that she's been kidnapped, or hurt somehow, or that he himself has hurt her, has killed her like he killed Alex, like he thought he'd killed Brian and still can't quite believe he didn't... And like he killed Jay, like he let Jay die. If he'd just put his upset at Jay aside and said they could stick together while they were looking around Benedict hall, he'd have been with Jay when Alex shot him and maybe Alex would have thought twice about doing it, maybe he could have saved Jay.

So when one day Tim asks if Brian would like to hold Birdie, Brian understands just how big a deal it is. He nods, though, he says he'd love to hold her, and he doesn't say a word when Tim fusses around with making sure he's holding her correctly, making sure that the brakes are on on his chair so he won't roll, making sure that Birdie's still bundled up safe and warm. And then he hands her to Brian, and she's a squirmy little thing, making little baby noises and grabbing at him when he cradles her against his chest like Tim showed him, supporting her head and smiling at her with tears in his eyes, because yes, she looks like Jay... But she also looks like Tim.

She looks a bit like Tim did when the two of them first met.

It's her eyes, sure, the shape is more like Jay's, all too big and a bit buggy, a little droopy and looking incredibly strange in her tiny baby face, but the colour is exactly like Tim's.

Tim tells him more about his and Jay's relationship while he holds Birdie, letting her hold his finger and babbling back at her when she makes her little baby noises. Brian decides that he absolutely has to be there for Tim and Birdie. He doesn't even say anything about it to Tim, just decides it for himself as he listens to Tim talking about how he'd tried to count back the months to figure out when Birdie had been conceived. Tim jokes about feeling like a weirdo for it, but he just had to know, he had to figure out what point in their relationship Birdie had started, to know and remember that moment as happily as he could.

Brian listens to it all, he doesn't even really feel jealous, doesn't feel any sort of weird at hearing Tim talking about his last partner. He listens to everything Tim tells him about Jay, the good sides, the bad sides, how awful it was trying to live around being hunted down by Alex and the Operator. Tim even mentions the fact that Jay was clearly figuring out his gender and how awful it feels knowing that Jay never got to live comfortably in his skin before he died.

Brian just listens, he holds Birdie and he listens while Tim gets everything off his chest, and he decides that he's going to be there for him through anything, whatever comes their way, he'll be there with Tim, for Tim. He isn't even doing it because he still likes Tim, because he wants to be in a relationship with him again. He doesn't even necessarily want Birdie to grow up seeing him as her dad too. He just wants to be there for Tim in any way he'll have him, whether that's just as a friend, or as something more.

[endataraxia]

creepypasta kinks.

featuring eyeless jack, jeff the killer, masky, hoodie, and ticci toby.

cw: nsfw, knifeplay, blood, cnc.

Eyeless Jack finds his libido to only be elevated after his transformation into a demon. A helpless victim writhing in the grasp of his own carnal desires, he is left with no choice and seeks you out.

Marking. You are his. You are his, and every being, every living creature that lays eyes on you has to know it. The bite marks on your skin are perfect, perfect negative impressions of his impressive set of teeth. He finds the blood dripping from the deepest indentations on your neck to be beautiful.

Dirty talk. “Mine, mine, you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear, licking at it, teasing its shell. Shivers run down your spine.

Manhandling, also linked to a size difference kink. Jack had always been a tall man, but after transforming, he had grown even taller and bigger, beyond what could possibly be considered normal. His silhouette engulfs yours, enabling him to pick you up with ease, toss you on his bed, carry you and fuck you.

Mirrors. He fucks you in front of a mirror and commands you to look at yourself. Look at you, just how delectable you look while his cock thrusts into you. You’re so red, you’re so bothered.

Breeding and creampies. But he’s not done with you yet, he tells you as he watches his seed drip out of your ruined hole. For even if your hole is useless, you still have other ones.

Jeffrey Woods has always been tightly wound, always ready to snap. It’s no surprise he takes his frustrations out fucking you, whether it be hateful fucking, or…well, it’s actually really mostly just that.

Consensual non-consent. You will be his, even when you don’t want to be, or at least act like you don’t. He’ll grab you, by the wrists, your hair, even your neck, and he will take you wherever and whenever he pleases.

Knife play. “You’re so beautiful when you bleed,” he’ll remark, and the occasional, “I want you and I covered all up in your blood.” And so cover himself in your blood he does, your vision fading as you bleed away.

Impact play. He’ll slap you, your butt, your face, wherever he pleases. You are not a person to him, not in that moment. You are his object to fuck and make use of. His pleasure is number one in his mind.

Licking and marking—though not out of affection. It’s a twisted possession, a wicked obsession. His, his, his. Blood drips everywhere. Red is all he sees. Red is all you are. Bleeding out in his bed.

Timothy “Masky” Wright’s personalities blend. Masky, and Tim. No, not Masky; Tim. Not Tim; Masky. Oh, what’s going on in his head? Why can’t he seem to control himself?

- Bondage. He must tie you up. He has to. The Operator wills it. Masky grabs the rope; Tim resists. He mustn’t tie his precious darling up. But Masky has to.

- Kissing. “I’m sorry,” Tim mumbles, and Masky hisses, don’t. But Tim prevails in this moment, and you get your affection, though it does seem like he’s holding back—from smashing your head in.

- Marking. You want to kiss your precious darling, so be it, growls Masky’s voice in the back of his head. But we do it His way. Masky bites at your flesh mercilessly, causing you to bleed, but at least Tim gets to leave his mark on you.

- Creampie—the struggle between Masky and Tim leaves the latter no room, no time to react to his ejaculation. He comes inside of you, and as he groans, he releases his seed. But before he can pull out, Masky commands: Stay.

- We will mark and imbue this wench. This one belongs to Him.

- YOU CANNOT FIGHT HIM.

Brian “Hoodie” Thomas is attractive, there is no denying it. But if a person were to lay eyes on him, with his charismatic smile, the furthest thought from their mind would be his true demeanor around you in the bedroom.

BDSM, namely sadism, bondage, impact play, and power play.

He is sadistic, dishing pain out without a second thought, like a billionaire spending thousands without a second thought. You plead and beg for mercy, a reprieve from the pain on your ass, but he simply smirks and the sting of his spanks begin all over again.

Bondage. For if he is to do what he truly desires to you, you must not be able to resist. “My pretty pretty darling,” he hums in a singsong, “I won’t be done with you anytime soon.”

Impact play. His favorite is flogging, seeing tears run down your face, red marks the exact shape of his weapon appear on your thighs, your chest, your stomach, everywhere. Your tears are everywhere. And as he fingers you, pleasure and pain blur together.

Humiliation. He unbinds you abruptly, causing you to fall to the ground. “On your knees,” he commands, and you have no choice but to obey.

“Worship me,” he whispers to you, and you obey.

You obey.

You obey.

Tobias Erin “Toby” Rogers is relatively inexperienced, but his confidence surprises you every time. Your guard down, he pounces, engulfing you whole.

Consensual non-consent. “Say you don’t want this.” “What?” “Say you don’t want this,” he whispers back, more urgency in his voice. And so you comply.

Zero foreplay. He inserts himself, intruding upon the sanctity of your body, and as you howl in agony your hole wettens itself around him. He sighs in pleasure. Pleasure—it’s only for him.

Crying. Tears. Tears all over your face, snot running down your philtrum unattractively. It all goes to his cock, it all emboldens him. “Cry more,” he whispers, voice trembling in excitement, fingertips wiping away your tears, bringing them to his lips for a taste.

Fear. The fear in your eyes, so enticing, so easy to get lost in. Were your eyes always so fearful of him? Will you never see him the same way again? The thought excites him, his heart races, his thrusts growing more erratic.

Punishment. All of a sudden, he pulls out and comes onto the floor. He turns back to your confused face and orders with surprising presidency in his voice: “Lick it up.”

You stare at him in horror.

[your-oddities]

╭─────────.★..─╮

Backseat

╰─..★.─────────╯

Cautions: None besides fluff!

Word count: ~1.3k

•——•——•——•——•——•——•——•

You press your foot on the gas nearly as hard as you’re able to. Sounds of the car protesting loudly grow by the second, though the vehicle won’t budge. You can almost hear grunting coming from behind the car, just barely audible over the engine’s roar. Several seconds pass and, deciding it’s not doing either of you any favors, you take your foot off the gas. You stick your head out the open window and look to the back of the car.

“Is it working?” You shout, trying to look around the trunk. All he responds with is a groan before you watch as he comes around to the driver’s side.

The bottom of Tim’s jeans and every inch of his shoes are practically caked in mud, his shirt also somehow getting dirtied up by the sludge. He trudges to the driver’s side, shaking his head. “Nah. Wheel keeps on spinnin’ but it won’t move.” When you lean back into the car, he rests his elbow on the open window.

This couldn’t have possibly come at a worse time. You two were taking the backroads home after a tiring day. It’s been all too long since you two have been home, your bed ready to replace the nights spent snoozing in the passenger seat. But things turned for the worse when a deer came from the darkness of the woods and darted in front of the car. Tim successfully steered out of the way, though also managing to drive into a large patch of mud on the side of the road. And now, after a few minutes of trying to force the truck out of its spot, the both of you silently agree it’s time to throw in the towel.

Silent seconds pass, the conversation lulling. Not a car passes by, not a helping hand. So, not sure what to do, you turn to Tim. "Now what?" He keeps on looking down the endless road, and it seems as though he hadn't even heard you. But he finally answers with a sniffle and a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"Dunno." Tim replies before looking back to you. "Text Brian and hope he's awake, I guess." He wipes his muddy hands on his already dirtied shirt, fishing his phone out of his pocket. You watch while he taps away at the screen.

“Hope? So we just, what? Wait here if he isn’t up?” Staying yet another night in this old, beat up truck is less than ideal. But you don’t have the money for a night in a motel, much less the energy to walk to one. So, before he even answered, you knew what the response would be.

He looks up from his phone and purses his lips a bit. “I mean, what else are we gonna do? We don’t got many options here.” He slips his phone back into his pocket and takes his elbow off the car. He quickly climbs into the back of the truck and slips off his grimy shoes. You lean heavily against the back of the seat with a weighted sigh escaping you. Out of the corner of your eye Tim’s hand snatches his pack of cigarettes from the center console, and mere seconds later the smell of nicotine and smoke fills your nostrils.

Silence takes over in the absence of conversation. Inevitably, you’ll have to fall asleep in here. And, inevitably, you’ll wake up with every part of your body hurting in some way or another from staying in the same position all night. You take a glance in the rear view mirror towards the man behind you. He looks to be even more tired than you are. His eyes are almost fighting to stay open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes meet yours in the rear view mirror, yours swiftly looking elsewhere.

You curse mentally as he speaks up. “You cold?” He asks, honestly sounding bored. You’re almost confused by the question before your upper body shakes as a shiver runs through you. You hadn’t paid much mind to the cold. The heater doesn’t work well, so you two have been dealing with the chilly temperature for nearly the whole ride. You suppose you’ve gotten used to it.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Kind of.” The words sound awkward coming out of your mouth. There’s no apparent reason behind it. At least, not that you can think of. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Looking back to the mirror, it’s obvious your words did little to nothing in convincing Tim, eyes fixed on you. But he doesn’t call you out on it. Rather, he scoots over a smidge and gestures with his head as a sort of ‘come on’ motion.

The smiling tugging at your lips is involuntary. You’re not even sure why he’s inviting you back there, but you can’t help feeling pleased nonetheless. Now hopping out of the driver’s seat, you climb into the backseat with Tim. His muddy shoes sit in the open spot for your feet, so you opt for a criss-cross position on the seat. “Sorry about the shoes.” He apologizes sincerely.

You merely shrug. “Don’t worry about it.” You shut the door behind you before looking back to Tim once more. Now, instead of an almost unreadable expression on his face, he’s simply smiling as he looks to you. His hands rest on his legs, the cigarette lazily held between two fingers. If there was just one contagious grin in the world, his would be it.

With his free arm, he opens it up to you. The wave of his hand only further solidifies what he’s wanting you to do. You’re cautious, of course. He’s never been one for physical contact. You lost track of the amount of times your arm or hand brushed against his accidentally and he immediately steps back or puts his hand in his pocket. But this, this is a warm welcome in contrast to the closed off demeanor he has every day.

Hesitantly, you nudge closer to him. He doesn’t rush you. Instead his eyes follow your movements as you edge closer towards his open embrace. Once you’re close enough, he places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes you into a surprisingly comfortable position. Your body is stiff at first, of course. You’ve never been in this sort of situation with him, much less one where you could touch him at all.

His hand rubs up and down your arm slowly. That alone serves to calm you. Your muscles relax and a deep breath escapes you as you realize that you’re gonna be here for a while. You almost immediately rest your head on his shoulder. A quiet laugh shakes Tim a little and he holds you closer.

He brings the cigarette up to his lips, taking a long, slow drag. The tip burns red until he finally breaks away a few seconds later. Smoke leaves his parted lips and his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he looks down to you. “Want it?” He holds the cigarette towards you as an offer. “Might help you feel warmer.”

You’ve smoked before, and so it’s not like this is far too new for you. Wordlessly, you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and bring it to your mouth. Breathing in deeply, eyes shut. Reluctantly, you pull it away and breathe out. Grey smoke leaves your lungs and your eyes open again. Glancing back to Tim, you hold the cigarette out for him to take. But he shakes his head. “I’m good. You can finish it.”

You’re unsure of what this change in his personality is due to, but it’s surely welcome. You lean against him heavily and his arm tightens around you. You take another drawn out drag from his cigarette, eyes shutting. His head rests against yours as a heavy sigh leaves him.

The night felt a little warmer after that.

• . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . •

Thanks for reading !! ヾ(^_^)

probably not gonna post for another month … el oh el … so happy holidays ! ♡

[sadgurl805]

“Covered in pigs blood or more accurately, cop's blood. The poor drive-thru employee looking at you like you were on crack, asking if you needed any help.”

dianne… how i love u…

@itsabee and @13tinysocks ‘s y/n for ycyd!! i love her sm

p.s i wanna add how i did the sketch for this when i was hung over and i hope that’s something dianne would appreciate

[inconspicuous-clovers]

Everything is… fine, it's 

Veering off out of my control 

Everything's ending but it never ends. I'm 

Ready to move on, away from the thing that's haunted me since I was

Young. That's haunted all of us

Taking life after life after life

How did I turn out the lucky one?

If you can even call it that.

No one tells you how to deal with the

Guilt.

I'm

Sorry 

For all the things I can no longer fix

It's no help to look back

Nothing to do but keep moving, keep   driving and say that

Everything is fine.