#marble hornets oneshots

[vikkirosko]

A little background to this oneshot. It was written a few years ago when I was just starting to write here and then I wanted to try writing on this fandom. But at that moment I didn't have the resolve. In a fit of inspiration, I wrote this little oneshot and a few years later I publish it in the form in which I originally wrote it

🚬 Tim Masky x Reader Oneshot Old friends 💊

You've been wandering around Rosswood Park hoping to find some clues. A few weeks ago, your friend Tim went missing. You know that he was looking for a guy with someone whom he helped shoot a movie a few years ago. But there had been no news from him for a long time, as there were no new videos on the YouTube channel of the guy with whom he was looking for Alex. He didn't answer your calls or even visit a doctor. It bothered you a lot. You followed in their footsteps following what they said in the video. You hoped it wasn't too late. You had no idea that you were being watched. Masky has been watching you. He has been following you in secret for a long time. He remembered you, just like Tim remembered you. You were dear to both of them. Tim has had tender feelings for you for several years now. Masky has never personally communicated with you, but he has been watching you a lot. Maybe it was Tim's feelings, but Masky was sure that he liked you. He often wanted to come to you and show his feelings, but Tim was against it. He didn't want to put you in danger. He tried his best to protect you from danger. Tim has wanted to come to you so often and just hug you. He wanted to tell you what was really going on. But he understood that then you would be in great danger. There's no way he's going to let you be in danger. He's willing to suppress his feelings for your safety. But not Masky. He wasn't going to keep it all to himself. Very soon he will be able to take control by suppressing Tim and then you will finally meet your old friend.

[rainrot4me]

Outrun, Undone

Summary: Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you weren’t fast enough, and so did they…

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Chasing, predator and prey, primal sex, blood, injury, fear, threesome, double penetration, vaginal fingering, anal, blowjob, vaginal, overstimulation, power play, fighting, aggression, mocking, degradation, forced submission, pussy spanking, oral fixation

Words: 8.2k

Fight or flight is described as an instinctual reaction that occurs when the body perceives a threat, rallying for survival. Psychologically, it changes you, gripping for any out or sense of security as it pushes its own comfortability. It’s primal, animalistic, and desperate; mind clawing for any serenity. Your mind and body were screaming, like every inch of your consciousness was being ripped apart the harder you fought. You wanted to cry and scream and get away, but they wouldn’t let you. They were going to make sure you lost this bet.

The ground was damp, mulch and rocks lodged into your knees as you clattered to the dirt, heaving for breath. You didn’t remember which direction you were trying to go, but it didn’t matter as you pushed your aching body up, lunging back into a sprint. Rain and fog blurred your senses, the stout smell of wet earth suffocating you with every labored gasp. 

The woods felt like they went on forever, large pines and ominous maples cutting off your direction and forcing you into a maze, the schlick of mud under your shoes echoing with every quick step. You were soaked with sweat and rain, hair clinging annoyingly to your face and blocking your vision. Your clothes felt heavy on your skin, making it hard not to get overstimulated and tired. “Fuck-” You gasped, rounding a mound of roots to find a patch of brambles, head spinning and looking for another direction. The loud thumping of boots was heavy behind you, branches and leaves snapping as you heard hollers paired with eager laughter calling out your name, searching for you. There was no other direction. You hauled forward.

It was your fault, really. You roused them on, claiming stealth and agility were better tactics for a killer than brute force and power. The boys chuckled, arms crossed and stupid grins shining as they teased. It was always so odd to see them without their masks, especially in such good moods. 

“Oh yeah? And who says that?” Masky poked at you, leaning back into the door of the rental truck you had all lived in for the past week. This mission was exhausting, another hitman job for the Operator that you really couldn’t bring yourself to be passionate about. The boys weren’t too thrilled either. Sleeping cramped into a single cab as the only girl was devastating. The smell of no showers and lack of proper meals was getting to you now, a two-day headache pounding at the base of your skull and making you nauseous. At least they let you have the back seat to yourself.

“Uh, says the one who’s gunned down more than both of you?” You scoffed, kicking some gravel from the campsite parking lot. “Don’t you ever notice how I’m the one having to pick off the stragglers when you two come in guns blazing? I swear, you two only think with your revolvers instead of your actual brains.” 

Hoodie chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the truck bed. “These brains don’t do much thinking anymore anyways.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” Looking out across the field meant for hunting, a dense treeline hung just over the clearing as the sun began to set, deep oranges and pinks pushing through the leaves. You couldn’t remember what state you were in, somewhere north and cold, early autumn setting in as the breeze whipped against your cheeks. It was going to rain tonight, you could see it in the way the leaves upturned, the thick smell of distant downpours on the bark stirring in the air. “Just saying. I could outrun you both and still have the energy to take down someone. You two wouldn’t last a second without your precious little weapons strapped to your hip.”

The boys tensed, eyes narrowing as they looked at each other, a silent challenge welling up. “How about a game then? Put your little stealth tactic to the test.” Masky huffed, a stupid grin matching the eagerness in his eyes. Hoodie nodded along, pushing off the truck bed as he stepped closer, his boots crunching into the gravel. 

“The woods out there. It’s only about fifty acres worth, but it’s dense. Good enough for hide and seek, huh?” Hoodie’s voice sounded a little more chipper than his usual monotonous one, laced with excitement and almost giddy. “We’ll give you ten minutes, put your money where your mouth is. If we can’t find you, we’ll buy you a hotel room for the rest of the trip.” You glared, heart thumping at the idea of finally getting a shower and some heat, fingers fidgeting at your sides. “But, when we catch you, and we will, who knows what we’ll ask for?” Masky shrugged cockily. “Guess we’ll be thinking about it while you’re runnin’.”

The boys pressed forward, shoulder to shoulder as they stared down at you, nauseating smiles making your heartache. You glanced back to the tree line. Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes, stupidly accepting their bet. You were going to win, you knew you were, but all they could do was smile. “Ten minutes starts now, sweetheart.” Hoodie fiddled with his old-style military wristwatch, wiping the glass as he clicked some buttons to start a timer.

“So I just… start runni-”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…” You tensed, taking steps back before spinning on your heels, zipping your jacket up as you began to run, slipping into the trees.

-

When you began to run, that’s when the excitement truly swept in. 

The ten minutes had long passed, your feet carrying you deep into an unfamiliar forest where every tree looked the same. But you had to keep going, if for nothing else, then to create distance.

It was getting too dark to see, the sun hanging low on the horizon and dense night setting in. The silhouettes of trees stretched ahead, endless in every direction. There was no trail or path to follow, only the thick underbrush and ferns that whipped at your legs as you ran, branches scratching your skin. You had no clue where you were going.

The rain had begun as well, thick droplets soaking your clothes and face, making your hair cling to your skin. Your legs burned, muscles tensing as you dodged trees, mud clinging to your shoes the further you went, your breath already quickening. When you reached a small clearing, you paused, catching your breath as you searched the shadows, listening intently for any signs of movement. Nothing caught your attention besides the heavy patterns of rainfall, leaves, and branches whipping in the wind as you set off again, catching your pace. 

Adrenaline couldn’t differentiate this from real danger. You dealt with these boys every day, watching how they worked and killed, studying their every move. But now that you were on the other side of the fight, there was no clue just how real they were going to make it. You knew they wouldn’t kill you. They were all for bets, but they weren’t sore losers. They might catch you, they might hurt you, but they wouldn’t kill you. And, somehow, that excited you.

There was something so rousing about playing the victim for once. It made you feel vulnerable and small, but oh did it make you desperate.

Climbing over a fallen pine and sliding down the short ridge beyond it, you crouched close to the ground, pressing close to the roots and bushes as you caught your breath again. You had to think one step ahead, had to conserve your energy; any chance for a break was a good one. They wanted a chance, so you’d give them a chase. But you had to be smart too.

Snap.

You froze, slow breaths shaking as the condensation fogged at your mouth. You clenched close to the ground, careful not to move as you heard the thumps of boots more clearly now, a matching pair. You clenched your jaw, bracing your hands against the side of a tree as their voices grew too.

“Come on, little mouse,” Masky called out, the giddiness in his voice making you cringe. “You’re not very good at hiding your tracks.” Shit. The rainfall had roused the ground with mud, your imprints being left everywhere and leading right to where you crouched. You had to move.

Rain and sweat dripped off your nose, teeth clenched as you shook, the cold breeze cutting against your skin. Your pupils blew wide as you scanned the ground, snaking your body up quietly as you took eager steps in the opposite direction of the boys. The mud squelched, your body aching as you pushed off the tree, steadying your pace back into a jog to not make too much noise. You heaved, letting your pace grow the further you got, the small steps turning into a desperate sprint as you whipped through the trees, the wind burning your cheeks raw. You were panting, sucking deep breaths of air, and fighting against the strain in your chest.

“There!” You cursed, Hoodie’s voice ringing through the trees as you sprinted, fists clenched as you dug your feet into the ground. In your attempt to get away, you had done exactly what you wanted to avoid, catching their attention. You heard the sound of their boots taking heavy steps in the distance, far enough but definitely still too close for comfort. Your heart thumped, adrenaline pumping. You tried to look back, to gauge just how far they were, just how fast you needed to run. You couldn’t see when your ankle snapped against a root popped from the ground, flinging your body down.

The ground was damp, mulch and rocks lodged into your knees as you clattered to the dirt, heaving for breath. You didn’t remember which direction you were trying to go, but it didn’t matter as you pushed your aching body up, lunging back into a sprint. Rain and fog blurred your senses, the stout smell of wet earth suffocating you with every labored gasp. You groaned, palms and clothes covered in mud and grass, your chest aching from the abrupt contact. The boys howled with excitement, their chanting and loud laughs making you nervous, and desperate to get away. The worst part, however, was the fact they had now put on their masks.

The three of you had grown comfortable, there was no desire to cover their faces around each other, saving the covers for jobs. But now, the stupid masks were snugged on, concealing their expression and making this situation all the more terrifying. Now, you realize they saw you as a job, a mission to catch and take, no longer just a little game. You wanted to cry, the anger shooting through your veins as you ran, heaving for air and distance, your brain screaming to get away. They were going to catch you.

You were so used to being on the other side. You were the one chasing, the one seizing runaways. But, something about being the one having to get away, the thought of you fighting within an inch of your life against your friends. It got you stirred in the worst kind of way.

You sprinted, half-running half-sliding down the steepening slope, your shoes catching on vines and mud as you went. You had no clue where you were going or why the terrain was suddenly changing, but you continued to press forward, feet flinging out from under you as you sprinted. The slope picked up, rocks and thicker soil breaking under your steps, clattering down the side of the hill you were pressing down, leaning back to claw into the mud as you lost your footing, pummeling down. Your foot caught on a root, hauling your shoe off your foot and snapping your body with it.

You met the clearing at the bottom face-first.

You landed hard, a thick stream of water splashing against your face as you gasped. The air knocked from your lungs, rolling onto your back as the water flowed around you, the tiny stream picking up from the rain. Rocks and moss stuck to your clothes, your teeth grit as your chest ached. You had to get up, you had to keep running.

But the chuckles from above you made you whine, footsteps crunching down the muddy slope as they paced just out of your sight. “Aww, think before you run. Don’t go panicking now.” You could hear the smile in Hoodie’s voice despite your dizziness. 

Out of pure adrenaline, you shoved yourself up, looking towards the slope, but finding nothing there. You spun on your heels, surveying the trees and sides of the hill, nothing sticking out. You hissed, looking down towards your hands as dirt sunk into the cuts, your palms torn and bleeding down your wrists, mixing with the rain. Your socks were soaked with mud, your feet aching and pounding with pain as your foot had been welted raw. But you couldn’t find them. For how large and annoying they were, you couldn't find them. You had to keep moving.

Turning away from the slope, you dug your heels in, pushing away from the stream. It was hard to focus, hard to keep your mind from spinning as you clawed, legs burning every step they ran. Your head felt light, too nauseated to notice the flash of yellow in your direction. 

A hand seized around your throat from behind, the other gripping into your hair as you cried out. You flung, fighting back against the tight grasp Masky held, kicking your knees. How the hell had he gotten to you? You swung your arms, reaching back to claw at the fists wrapped around you, elbow flying back to make contact with his ribs.

Masky gasped, grunting heavily as how grip loosened, reaching for his side. You slammed back hard, taking the opportunity to shove your shoulders back, knocking the brunette off balance and releasing you. In the process, you took the chance, sprinting away and pressing through the rain, gasping as you heard his yells behind you.

Gripping the side of another steep hill, you clawed at the roots and rocks protruding from the side, launching yourself up the side of the ravine and scrambling up onto flat ground above. Your socked foot caught on a rock, slicing through the fabric and through to your skin too, making you hiss and clench your jaw. Don’t look back, don’t stop, don’t be afraid-

Hoodie grunted as you slammed into him, chest knocking against him so hard you landed flat on your ass. He wasn’t so easy, not allowing you to get back up as the taller man pinned you down. You thrashed wildly, arms and legs flailing as his fists gripped your jacket, raising your chest to slam you back down against the ground, knocking the breath from your lungs. You gasped, tired arms reaching up to claw at his hoodie, tugging the soaked cloth, and trying to reach his skin. Hoodie laughed, his fingers digging into your sides as you groaned, panting your exhaustion. Masky was following behind, grappling up the side of the hill and chuckling his amusement. You were panicking, flailing under the man as you whined. 

“Didn’t last very long at all, huh?” Hoodie mocked, pushing your legs out of the way as you tried to kick him, your hands still clawing. The man just pressed harder, reaching up to clench your jaw, angling your head closer to the ground and into the mud. It was disgusting, your pants and whines making him smile as you gripped his hoodie, feeling for anything you could use.

When your fingers brushed his pistol holstered snugly against his side, you strained your jaw, reaching as far as you could. Hoodie was focused, eyes locked onto your face as his fingers clenched around your throat, tightening excruciatingly as you gasped, head already spinning. Your breathing was labored, the intensity of his grasp faltering your reach as you strained, the eagerness in his grasp making you dizzy.

You whined, pressing your shoulder down as you finally wrapped a finger around the end, tugging the weapon out of its holster. Masky was close now too, boots crunching in the mud as your vision blurred, rain and lack of oxygen snaking a darkness into the edges of your sight. You snagged a finger around the cold metal of the gun, hauling it up and bringing it down quickly, slamming against the side of Hoodie’s skull. His groan rang, his grasp on your throat letting free as he hauled back, gripping at the side of his head. 

You scrambled up, panting breaths of moist air as you pushed back in the mud, hauling yourself up. Masky tried to press in, your hands were quick to shoot up and aim the pistol, a finger placed steadily on the trigger. The man stopped, mockingly holding his hands up and laughing, angling his head to the side in amusement.

“What? Is the little mouse scared now? What happened to all that big talk earlier?” You cringed, panting loudly as puffs of condensation clouded around your mouth. You were shaking wildly, mud and rain crusted deep into your clothes and skin, soaking you to your core. “I thought this was some game, not a real chase.” You grit your teeth, snarling your desperation through angered words. 

Hoodie was up now, looming close to Masky’s side as he watched, an expression showing he was ready to pounce. He wanted more, you could see it in the way his fingers flexed and palmed against his jeans. You shook, keeping the pistol aimed between both of them. You didn’t give them a chance to get to you again. Turning on your heels, you lunged into another sprint, chest, and legs aching at the sudden burst. The boys latched on, not giving a second thought before chasing behind you, desperately trying to match your pace. You were faster than them, but there was no way you would be able to beat them again physically. With a hurt foot and weakened body, they would overpower you in an instant.

Mocking chants and laughs echoed loudly behind you, the rain and wind snapping at your skin. You limped through every step, trying to keep a good pace as the pain began to sink in, mud clinging against your cuts. Your mind was racing, excitement and pent-up energy exerting themselves in every ache and stretch. So many times on missions you were forced into uncomfortable situations, clawing and begging to prove yourself, to show just how useful you were. 

But now, you weren’t chasing anymore. You were the one running, the one begging and sobbing to be shown mercy. Masky and Hoodie weren’t capable of mercy, they didn't know the meaning of the word. So now, the role flipped on its head, you were truly aware of just how much you needed to get away.

You swung your arm around as you felt bodies close in, gripping the pistol tight and aiming high as you took a shot. An ear-piercing ricochet rang through the trees. Curses shouted, loud gasps as the bullet whizzed past their heads, and maniacal laughter soon followed. “Shit, Hood! Mouse’s got some bite!” Masky panted, exhausted tone showing as he continued to run. Hoodie growled his approval, grappling off of trees and closing in again. You’d been a fool to think they’d scare so easily. Of course, your violence would just get them more excited.

Clattering across a stretch of gravel and mud, you cursed, the gash in your foot screaming with pain. The limp caused you to be ill-timed, Masky taking the falter and seizing you, your bodies clattering to the nasty ground.

Masky chuckled, your hair knotted in his hand as he forced you onto your chest. Your fingers dug into the mud, desperately trying to push yourself up as you flailed, pistol gripped tight. Limbs burned, lungs gasping for air as you felt a knee press between your shoulder blades before you could move. He crushed you against the gravel harder and harder. Masky pressed down close, dragging your head to the side so he could groan into your ear. Hoodie was already on you too, the sole of his boot crushed atop your hand to pry the pistol away, tossing it a few feet away. Masky’s knee pressed hard, the mask covering his expression, but you could hear his excitement all too well.

“All that running just for us to still catch you, little mouse. I say we deserve some compensation for all that work.” You clenched your teeth, tears welling in your eyes not only from the exhaustion that was creeping in but from the terrible pain shooting through your body. Everything hurt, sleepiness hanging on every limb. They must have noticed as the Hoodie knelt down beside your head.

He caressed his fingers over your skin, marveling at the softness of your cheeks cool with the rain, before nudging your jaw with his fist. “I think I know a pretty good reward, eh?” His hoodie was soaked, the usual mustard color a dark brown as Masky loosened his grip on your hair, tugging your shoulder over as his knee lifted. You tried to gauge their expressions and understand what they were so giddy about as you lay on your back, face, and clothes splattered with mud and rain. “I’d say I have to agree with you there, man.”

As Masky stood, you tried to sit up before large pairs of hands shoved you back to the ground. Your bodies pressed close, Hoodie wedging himself against your side as Masky gripped your arms, pressing them down against the rocks. That’s when you felt it, the heat in his jeans pressed against your hip, your skin exploding with warmth. You tried to look through his mask into his eyes, shimmying your hips as Hoodie did the same, gripping the side of your face to keep your head down. They were overpowering you, binding you down to submit, forcing you to stop. You didn’t want to. They wanted a fight, and you weren’t so willing to lay down and take it.

“Keep moving your hips like that and watch what happens.” Masky barked, snaking a knee between your legs as he pressed close, breathing muffled as he held you. Your body was useless, their arms and hands gripping tight and hauling you close, gasps ringing at every fist tightening. “You’ve lost, alright? Just fuckin’ give up.” Hoodie jerked your jaw, pressing your shoulder to the ground as you kicked your legs, Masky’s knee slid up against your core and held it there even when you squirmed. “Even after all that runnin’ you’ve still got energy? Fuck.” Masky angrily laughed, tugging at your jeans and undoing the buttons, your heart immediately jumping from your chest.

“Masky-” Hoodie clasped a hand over your mouth, tugging your body up against his own as he pressed beside you. Masky let go of your hands, Hoodie quick to take them in one hand, and hold them above your head as the latter worked on shimmying your pants off of your thighs. The rain made you twitch as drops hit your bare skin. “We won, remember? Gonna have to show you just what girls with big egos get, yeah? You could use a little humbling…” The hooded man smiled, snaking a hand around your throat and clamping down, your airway choking closed as you gasped. It felt like a rush, every inch of your body overwhelmed as they gripped at your skin. You were falling apart, fighting and fear leaving your body, anxiousness and excitement slowly creeping in the lower Masky’s hands dipped against your thighs.

“Every inch of you is a tease.” He snapped, your muddy jeans discarded as fingers dug into your skin. The man acted ravenous, fingernails clawing against your damp skin as he nudged himself between your legs, your head swaying lightly as Hoodie pushed his grip on your throat harder. “Been dying to get a good look.”

You couldn’t deny how many times you caught them staring. Every time you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in the creek or laid out in the truck's backseat to get some rest, their eyes lingered, awkward silence hanging in the air. It was obvious now. That same ravenous look was caught behind the eyeholes of their masks, your heart skipping as Masky hooked his fingers into the waistline of your panties. Jerking against Hoodie’s grasp on your wrists, you let your back arch off the ground, panting against the fingers gripped onto your throat as Masky slowly slid the cloth down. 

Rain soaked your face as Hoodie took his time sliding a hand up your shirt, palming at your moist skin and dragging your jacket off of your shoulders. “You’ve always had such a loud mouth, y’know that? It’d be nice to see it occupied with other things.” Hoodie chuckled, letting his fist off of your throat to slide up to your lips, your gasps and coughs music to his ears. He was quick to slide two fingers past your teeth, shoving them down to the knuckle and pushing down your tongue. You gagged, head rearing back but his fingers followed, pressing down into your throat with a cough. He let go of your wrists, snaking a fist into your hair as he held his fingers still, your throat constricting around the digits as you reached back to grip his hoodie, tugging him closer. Masky watched close, your warm cunt throbbing as the cold air ran goosebumps across your skin.

“Christ.” Masky hummed, pressing your knees apart as he adjusted himself between them, his cock constricting tight against his jeans. He slid your folds apart with his thumb, swiping the digit through your wetness and spreading it, smiling at the way your hips instinctively jerked. You whined, senses overwhelmed as you choked again, gagging as Hoodie began to pump his fingers. “If you can’t even take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock? Do better.” Hoodie was so much more gruff than Masky, barking his command and pushing you further than you knew he could go. The man was always the quieter of the two, his shadow-like demeanor starkly contrasting Masky’s. So when it came to primal instincts, the two flipped like a coin. Masky took a much more silent authoritative stance, while Hoodie was all bark and bite. The two worked perfectly together, you realized, in murder and sex. Perfect contrasts no matter the circumstances.

Your cheeks shot red, your eyes watering the louder you heard him huff. You tried to let your throat relax, you tried to breathe steady. But when you felt a finger screw into your cunt, forcing its way into your hardly prepped warmth, you cried out. 

Masky’s nails dug into your thighs, his knees shoving your legs open as he twisted his middle finger, angling to press up against the gumminess of your walls. “So warm, damn…” He grunted, letting his thumb press against your clit and rub aching circles against the nub. Hoodie didn’t give you a moment, however. His fingers were soon tugged from your lips as he snagged your hair back, pushing your cheek against his jeans, face-to-face with his boner. How were you going to take that? You tried to stammer, tried to press your hands on his legs, but he was already undoing his belt. “Hoodie-” You hissed, your sentence cut off as you jerked your hips up when another finger crammed itself into your tight cunt, digits spreading and scissoring you loose. Your eyes shot back and forth, focused on fingers tugging down their zipper but also on the hungry way fingers dug into your folds.

You were overwhelmed, the rain and wind snapping at every naked part of your body and sending chills. And the boys were eating you alive. 

“Wait, please- I’m sorry! Ah! I was wrong okay-” Hoodie’s palm was back around your mouth, your pants and whines muffled behind the hand as he tugged his jeans down with his boxers. Your eyes shot wide when he tugged his cock out, shoving his waistband below his balls and giving his length a few good tugs. Masky chuckled, pressing the heel of his palm down onto your clit as he rhythmically curled his fingers up, your cunt soaking them. “If you’re so sorry, then show it, sweetheart.” You gawked at the girth wrapped in Hoodie’s fist, unsure of how you were even supposed to take half of that in your mouth. But take it you would. It didn’t matter if you screamed, bled, or passed out, Hoodie was going to make sure you would melt on it.

You were trembling, as vicious as you were, you were excited. Hoodie and Masky could see it. They had no intention of hurting you, but they had every intention of breaking the little ego you held onto. You held their gaze, rain streaming down your face as you whined. “Open up.” The brunette didn’t give you much of a choice as he pressed his cock to your lips. You gasped around the tip, his hands wrapping into the back of your hair and pressing your head closer. Hoodie groaned as he went deeper, your throat convulsing around him with a barely suppressed gag. You felt like you were losing air, taking a last deep breath before Hoodie stopped, your lips wrapping tight around the middle of his girth. 

He held steady, Masky keeping you distracted with his fingers, but you couldn't fight the dizziness in your head. Hoodie drank up the way your eyes slammed shut, the way your hands gripped into his clothes and pawed for release; he couldn’t stand it. Masky couldn’t either.

When you caressed your tongue along the bottom side of his cockhead, Hoodie growled, fisting your hair tight. He snapped your head closer, pushing your throat open around his girth and tugging you back off quickly, snapping his hips back again to set a sickening pace. You choked, slobber pooling around your lips and glistening on his length as he fucked into your throat, giving you no time to breathe. You dug your nails into his hoodie, clawing for something to hold onto as he rattled your head. Every squeeze of your throat just spurred him on, the resistance only making him more eager to fuck you open and raw. “God, you must be real sorry, huh?” Hoodie growled, letting one hand shove up your shirt up and tug your bra off of your tits, gripping onto the mounds.

Masky watched, smiling wildly behind the mask as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Your cunt had soaked his fingers loose enough to slip another in, his free hand shimmying his belt undone and tugging his zipper down. The man took a shaky breath when his cock met the cold air, twitching and eager as he unscrewed his fingers from your cunt, surprised at the way your hips tried to follow them. The loud sound of slobber and gagging on Hoodie’s cock made Masky excited to hear more, pumping his cock in his fist covered with your arousal as he pressed a free hand back to your folds. “Don’t pass out now, little mouse.” 

You couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own head roaring, throat tensing and convulsing at every press of Hoodie length into your mouth. He was so rough, so aggressive in his actions, desperately clawing for more as if he had been begging for this for forever. You finally felt like you could get the hang of it, finding a good position for your mouth until-

Smack!

You nearly screamed when you felt a palm slap down on your cunt, snapping against your cunt and sending your hips shooting off of the muddy ground. Masky laughed, his fist jerking his cock as your eyes shot open, trying to pull your head back off of Hoodie’s length. He growled, snapping your head back down onto his cock and shoving your nose into his pubes, snapping at you to stay still. 

Masky raised his hand again, your stomach tightening as you watched through tear-beaded eyes when his palm made contact with your clit again. It stung, your throat grunting and sobbing as Hoodie gripped either side of your head in his hands, fucking his hips into your warm mouth. You tried to press your thighs shut, Masky shoving them apart as he slapped again, spanking your cunt and grinning at the squelch. Pained whines muffled around Hoodie’s cock as he rubbed his fingers against your clit before hauling his hand up, smacking back down to watch your hips jerk. You dug your heels into the dirt, trying to press away, but Masky’s hands were already gripped around your hips and tugging you back.

Your head was light, oxygen barely seeping through as Hoodie completely ignored your wails, hips jerking, and balls slapping against the side of your face the deeper you drank his cock down. “So good…” He muttered, gasping as he hunched over your head, driving his hips at an exhausting pace. Your jaw hurt, eyes raw with tears as you lulled your tongue against the underside of his length to desperately hurry his orgasm along.

Your mouth was so full, so warm and tight, and took the brunette the best you could. Hoodie whined when he felt his balls tighten and abdomen tense, ecstasy shooting through his body as he throbbed in your mouth and spilled down your throat. You clung to his hoodie, unable to swallow as quickly as he pumped into you, cum and slobber dribbling down your chin. You gasped as you felt the intrusion leave your mouth, desperately trying to catch your breath as seed dripped down your chin. Masky didn’t give you time, barely able to swallow before you felt a tension pushing into your cunt.

“I think you still owe me an apology, right?” The man between your legs chuckled, pushing your hips down to the soaked ground as he slowly sunk in, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. Hoodie was panting, wringing the last of his orgasm from his cock as he hauled your head up, craning your neck to face him. He shoved his mask up, the fabric bunching at his brow as his flushed cheeks glistened with sweat. You whined as you felt Masky’s cock press deeper, your walls throbbing around him as Hoodie caught your lips, breathing deep as he panted into your mouth.

“Mmn, fuck-” Masky chirped, raising your ass off the ground as he pressed against your tightness, sinking into your gooey warmth. Hoodie ravaged, gripping your jacket and shaking it off your arms, fingers tugging at your shirt until you could hear the seams popping and snapping. Masky bottomed out, you gasp giving Hoodie enough access to shove his tongue past your lips and suck on your own. Groans and whines swapped, Masky watched, stomach twirling with arousal.

He slowly tugged his hips back, your thighs trembling as you peeked out, groaning when you watched Masky slide his own mask off of his face, the object clattering into the mud. His hips didn’t get far before they snapped back, nails tugging your hips back to meet with a stifled moan. Hoodie shuffled behind you, adjusting himself to your back pressed against his chest as Masky started his drowsy pace into your puffy cunt. You whimpered with every inch, panting desperately. Your pussy gripped him tightly as Masky pressed all the way inside—before withdrawing completely and plunging back in again. You screamed, the sound choked with frantic need as Hoodie replaced his lips with his fingers again. Masky pulled your hips back, fucking mindlessly until your knees tightened around his sides. He snaked a hand between your legs and rubbed your clit, grinning as you shook from head to toe and went limp against Hoodie’s chest, the pleasure shattering you.

“Too much, little mouse?" You managed to shake your head, defiant little thing. Masky snapped his hips again, pace slowly and sickeningly increasing, thrusts getting harder but not faster. You mewled, sucking on Hoodie’s digits as he played with your nipples, massaging your tits with every heave of your chest. “Don’t get needy now, sweetheart,” Hoodie noted the way your hips craned to meet Masky’s every move, stomach tightening to get a better grip around his cock. You groaned, flexing your hands as they both laughed at your desperation. You were irritated. They wanted badly to ruin you, to make you theirs. But when it finally comes time for you to enjoy their part, they won’t let you. You felt yourself snap as you hauled your bodies forward.

Masky grunted as you shoved your hands against his chest, kicking your feet free from his hands and slamming the big guy on his back. Hoodie was quick to follow, stunned at the sudden movement but sure to find his place snagged onto your back as you straddled Masky again.

“You’re a fucking prick.” You groaned, pressing your nails into his face as your knees dug into the rocky mud-caked ground. You all were nasty, sweat and rain dripping from your brows but you were so horny it didn’t matter. 

Masky pressed back, tugging at your wrists to let off of his face. It was only when he shoved your jaw back did you saw the gleam of metal in the rain, the dark pistol smeared with mud but close enough to grasp. You pressed forward, shoving Masky’s forehead down as he snapped, Hoodie gripping your hips to drag you back.

You tried to claw, to reach the gun, but the boys were stronger. “Little cunt. You never learn, huh?” Masky barked, gripping his cock tight as Hoodie angled your hips to sink back onto the length. You choked out when they slammed your hips together, Masky setting a brutal pace up into your cunt as Hoodie pressed you down, jerking his own growing cock now.

“I don’t know where you- ah- where you get this attitude from,” Masky growled into your ear, your chest pressing down against his as he quickly tugged his cock in and out of your drenched warmth. You whined through every echoed slap, the rain, and sweat making you both slippery, and every thrust of his hips reverberating off the density of the trees. You reached out, stretching your shoulder as far as it would go to reach the pistol just at your fingertips. You groaned, pressing your sore hands into the mud for one final stretch, your index brushing the metal and tugging it in your direction. 

“Fuck you.” You growled out, tugging the gun into your hand and turning to aim it at the side of Masky’s temple. You wanted a reaction, for his pace to hesitate or his eyes to stutter, but they never did. He just kept tugging your hips down, mercilessly shoving the air from your lungs with every press of his cock against your sore walls. Your noses brushed as you stared deep into the other’s eyes, a silent challenge. If anything, he went faster.

Hoodie chuckled behind you, letting his cock slide between your ass cheeks every time they bounced in Masky’s cock. He was grunting, pressing your lower back down to get a better arch out of you. “Cute.” He smiled.

Masky glanced, acknowledging the weapon pressed so aggressively against the side of his head, but keeping his attention on you. You wanted to yell, to tug the trigger just enough to watch fear creep in, but your thoughts got abruptly lost.

Masky let your hips go, tugging a fist into your hair as he slammed your lips together. You grunted into the kiss, anger fuming between the two of you and tearing your resilience apart. The kiss was aggressive, teeth snagging on lips and tongues shoving against cheeks as Hoodie took his chance to rest his hands on your hips. “Shit.”

Hoodie tugged his cock back, your hips riding Masky on their own and setting your own pace, cunt gushing and squelching at every move. You hadn’t even cum yet, and the desperation was getting to you. 

“Stick your tongue out.” Hoodie reached between you two, cutting your kiss short as he selfishly shoved two fingers into your mouth, Masky growling at the loss. The brunette just laughed, a cheeky grin flashing as he tugged his fingers back, swiping them between your asscheeks.

You hissed, hips stuttering their pace as you felt Hoodie press his index finger against your asshole, swirling the muscle eagerly. “Hoodie.” You grit, craning your neck to look back at him, Masky letting his hand fall to your upper thighs. The brunette smiled, slowly nudging his index finger through the tight ring and making you sit up straight. Masky growled, reaching up to wrap his arm around you, tugging your shoulders back down, your neck in a headlock against his chest.

He slowly began to thrust his hips up again, achingly slow to distract from the feeling of Hoodie stretching your asshole. You wanted to growl, to fight back, but your eyes just rolled. Masky smiled as he watched the pistol slowly slip from your grasp, clattering back against the gravel as he fucked lazily up into your cunt, the warmth a lot more gooey than before. You could feel your abdomen flutter, clit brushing against Masky and sending your thighs tensing. “Please…" you moaned. "Coming… make me come…”

Hoodie craned his index, stretching the rim of your asshole and jerking your ass apart. Masky’s breath startled, resilience cracking as you came on his cock, cunt tightening and throbbing around his length. You convulsed, breath hitching as they brought you to your peak, shuddering violently in Masky’s arms. He couldn’t take it, he had to pull out.

You moaned out, whining when Masky slipped from your cunt and groaned loud, regaining his composure. Hoodie still worked your ass, the sting and stretch were painful but strangely so addicting. He let a second finger tease the rim, your hips sensitively jerking against the feeling as another finger slowly sunk into your ass. Your cunt clenched on nothing, tensing through your orgasm before Masky realigned himself, squeezing his cock back in. He could’ve come from how warm and gummy your walls were after cumming. 

“You ready for both, mouse?” You felt dizzy, head straining as Masky kept a hold on your neck, locking you down against his chest. You tried to nod, mumbling your eagerness as Hoodie successfully pressed another finger past your rim, your whine making them grin. The brunette gave you a few good tugs before pulling his fingers out, stroking his length as he pressed the tip to your rim. You groaned against Masky’s chest, biting into the cloth of his shirt as he thrust his hips, trying to give you a good duality as Hoodie slowly pressed in.

It stung, the stretch and fullness making your fingers grip into anything you could get, nails indenting into Masky’s sides. Hoodie cursed, fingers digging into the mounds of your ass and tugging them apart, trying his best to sink in through the constraint. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re tight as hell- shit-” You sobbed through the tension, trying your best to relax as both of your holes slowly filled, your abdomen swirling with waves of arousal. You felt dizzy, panting in Masky’s scent as Hoodie finally snapped in the rest of the way, the stretch making tears spill down your cheeks.

“Fu… Fuck me…” You choked out, craning your hips just enough to make Hoodie whine, nails cutting into your hips. The boys got the hint, Masky slowing down his pace to match Hoodie’s stuttered one, the brunette fighting against the constraint of your ass while he bluntly thrust. You moaned anyways, Masky’s cock snagging your g-spot and ramming there, his grin telling. He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss again, biting into your plump lips. 

Hoodie couldn’t get over your mouth, however. He needed to be in that warmth again. So, he leaned forward, pressing his fingers against the side of your cheek and pressing them into the corner of your mouth, Masky tensing at the foreign taste. He looked like he was going to say something, but you shut him up with a plop of your hips, raising your ass up to fuck against Hoodie’s cock and ride right back down onto Masky’s. “Be nice.” You gasped as Hoodie curled his finger into the side of your cheek, tugging the skin back to make drool pool against your lips. Masky growled, rolling his eyes before snagging your lips again, loud groans and hisses panted into the other’s mouth. You felt so full, holes stuffed so nauseatingly well you could feel the way their cocks brushed together inside of you.

You could feel it again, the way your gut clenched. Masky clenched your thighs, his cock aching inside of you as Hoodie snapped his hips, riding close to the edge again. You tried your best to angle your hips back, giving them both the best angle to tug their cocks in and out. “‘M coming- Fuck! Please, please, please…” You panted through every snap of their hips, their cocks squeezing and stretching your holes so wide you knew you were ruined for anyone else. Your head was so tired, cunt throbbing and aching for release the harder they went, chasing their own.

“Pull out, Hoodie…” Masky choked, getting the last few thrusts he could as he felt you tightening, his cock teetering dangerously close to the edge. Hoodie whined, the tip of his cock popping in and out past your rim and dragging him closer too, both of the boys a whining grunting mess with you sandwiched between them. “Ma- Masky… Hoodie…”

Both of your holes clenched down as you came, the intensity of your orgasm washing over you so strongly that your eyes lulled to the back of your head. Your stomach twisted, the knot unraveling as you released on their cocks. Masky moaned lowly, biting into his lip as he forced his cock out of your swelled cunt, ropes of cum dripping from his tip as he stole your lips. Hoodie followed quickly, pushing your ass off of his cock as he started fisting his length quickly, pumping tight at the base to shoot his seed across your back. He whined through his orgasm, smearing his cum across your ass and lazily smiling at his work.

You all panted, shoulders slumped and bodies sore. You felt like you couldn’t move, every muscle inside and out aching from the exertion you had gone through.

Rain still poured, the chill seeping into your bones as you shook, water and sweat dripping from your nose. You felt so spent, cunt and ass ruined and throbbing wildly as you let your head go limp on Masky’s chest, the man grunting underneath you. “Fuck…alright, mouse.”

You were far too sleepy to care much as they shoved their limp cocks back into their jeans, everyone’s clothes soaked and cold as Hoodie wrapped his arms under your limbs, hauling you up. “C’mon, sweetheart…” Even they sounded tired. 

-

You slipped in and out of sleep on the way back to the truck, Masky collecting your items as they went and tossing everything into the bed as the engine roared. Hoodie laid you in the backseat, climbing into the passenger as Masky peeled back towards the interstate. You were too tired to ask where you were going.

You only stirred back when the obnoxious luminescent lights showed into the truck window, blinding you. You squinted, tossing your hand in front of the light as you sat up, the backseat suddenly opening.

“Don’t make me regret buyin’ this,” Masky growled as he tossed a blanket towards you, you just now realizing how nasty with mud you all were. You smiled as Hoodie helped you out, shuffling you close to his side as the boys dragged you around to the shabby door of the motel they had found. You flinched as you remembered your foot, the crusted blood and mud staining the underside of your sock as you limped through the rusty door.

It wasn’t anything nice, definitely not five stars.

But as you three tugged off your clothes and cleaned as much of the mud off as possible, it didn’t matter. The boys cringed at your cuts, mumbling their apologies and helping you clean them up, too. Exhausted, the three of you crawled into the way-too-small bed, the boys on either side of you as they cradled in, sticky and sore body parts finding their comfortable spaces. 

It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was better than sleeping in the back of the truck. You smiled when their breathing labored, faces cradled into your shoulders while you slowly blinked your sleepiness away. You didn’t want to acknowledge what this night might mean for the future, at least not tonight. You’d much rather sleep.

But as Masky and Hoodie slid their arms around your torso, legs interlocking as you all finally relaxed, maybe it didn’t seem so bad anymore.

You’d have to learn to watch your tongue, though. For your sake.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thank you to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[number1jaymerrickhater]

Marble Hornets sleep headcannons bc I’m bored in math class

Jay

Jay is the type of guy who can sleep anywhere, at any time. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how uncomfortable the position is if he wants to sleep he will.

In college Jay was kinda known for being found sleeping in weird spots. At least once Alex found him passed out in a closet.

Definitely a stomach sleeper.

Despite being able to sleep in the loudest conditions (he could sleep next to a highway and be fine) he can’t sleep if its too quiet.

He’s so used to noise that he just can’t sleep in a silent room.

Doesn’t snore but will talk in his sleep.

And not just random mumbles bros having whole ass conversations with himself while he’s asleep

Alex records it to use as blackmail material because he finds it funny

Alex

Alex is the complete opposite

He needs 12 blankets, 4 pillows, and the perfect amount of background noise in order to sleep

One of those blankets is definitely a weighted one

Unless he passes out from pure exhaustion he can not fall asleep in a moving vehicle

Side sleeper, he doesn’t have a specific side he sleeps on but generally prefers to sleep with his back to a wall.

Bro is fighting demons in his sleep or something because jesus fucking christ does he move

Sometimes shoots of Marble Hornets would run late and everyone would just crash in Alex’s living room slumber party style.

Even though it was his house Alex would still join in sleeping on the living room floor bc friend bonding and shit he also would have felt like an asshole if they all slept on the floor and he slept in his bed

Everyone quickly learned not to sleep next to Alex unless you wanna deal with him kicking your ass while you sleep.

Alex would obviously feel bad and apologize but that didn’t stop them from mildly bullying him about it.

Tim

Tim sleeps like the dead.

He has insomnia so falling asleep is hard, but once he’s out he’s OUT

Nothing short of a world ending event could wake him up once he falls asleep.

This meant he was usually stuck sleeping near Alex because no amount of kicking could ever wake him up

He isn’t loyal to any sleeping position. He rotates like a hot dog when he’s trying to fall asleep.

He snores.

Not super loudly or anything but loud enough for it to be noticeable.

He isn’t a huge fan of blankets because he doesn’t like feeling trapped or confined.

He sleeps with a single thin blanket, a single pillow, and thats it.

Him and Alex get into frequent debates over how many blankets is the correct amount.

“What the fuck are you doing with 8 blankets? How do you not suffocate?”

“Well how do you not freeze to death under your single blanket that’s thinner than dollar store toilet paper?”

“Its called heat, its this fancy new invention you turn on to keep your house warm.”

“It’s not just about warmth its about being comfortable. How can you be comfortable with one blanket.”

He sets a million alarms in order to wake up in the morning

Brian

His sleep schedule is so normal its disturbing.

He gets exactly 8 hours every night, goes to bed and wakes up at the same time 7 days a week.

Sleeps on his back with his arms on at his sides.

Doesn’t move, doesn’t snore, he just lays there.

Multiple people have made jokes about him looking like a corpse when he sleeps

He is one of those weirdos who actually goes to sleep and wakes up refreshed???

Can not stay up late.

If he needs to pull an all nighter for something he needs an entire pot of coffee because once it hits a certain time his body just clocks out on him.

He got his body on such a good schedule that he doesn’t even set an alarm anymore, he just naturally wakes up on time

He didn’t get a healthy sleep schedule of his own free will, he’s just the type of guy who can’t function if he gets less than 8 hours

Drools in his sleep.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Found

Character: Tim Wright/Masky from Marble Hornets

Summary: You might have let your memory grow distant, but he never did. Despite everything, he still remembers. And now he has found you again.

Warnings: yandere character; description of violence and blood; death;

  This wasn't meant to happen.

  There's blood on your hands, on your shirt, pooling on the floor. Staining you. Staining him.

  Just a few days ago, this moment would have been inconceivable to you. He had barely even been on your mind then, just a rather distant memory from your college days, back when you had been roped into helping your friend Alex around the set for his student film project. Well, your involvement had been more out of a mix of convenience on his part and curiosity on yours, but still, it had been a long enough involvement for you to get to know his impromptu film crew a bit.

  And him, well... He was in a similar situation. Being convinced to participate in the movie's production only due to the insistence of his friend Brian and equal amount of convenience for Alex. 

  You admit, you remember the times you all spent together as a group more than you remember the individual people. But they are memories you hold some endearment towards. Even after Alex started to act strange, even after the crew started to fall apart, even after this strange cough started to cling to you ever since you walked out of their set for the last time. You thought you wouldn't remember him much. A face blurred with others you both spent not that much time with.

  But then. Somehow, years later when you started to catch vague shapes following you from the corner of your eye...

  They felt familiar.

  It started a few months ago. You started to feel watched. Followed. And, with a certain flimsy optimism and some reassurance from your roommate, you tried your best to not pay much attention to the feeling. You're just tired, life's been hectic, you should get some sleep. And you're obviously sick! Why else would your coughing fits have gotten worse and more frequent?

  But then you couldn't ignore it anymore. You had started to see its... Face? Whenever you looked over your shoulder as you walked back from work, whenever you looked out a window. It followed you home.

  Its build, the posture, the mannerisms. You knew it. You knew him.

  When you finally got a proper look at him, he was crouching in a corner of your room. Wearing a mask and a strange blot of darkness that shrouded him almost as if it had a mind of its own. And you called him by name like it had been on the tip of your tongue for years.

  "Tim...?"

  What happened next was so fast it became a blur, the only remaining image in your mind was that of his abrupt movements, and the panic as he tackled you to the ground. There had been someone- no, something else in the room too. A presence you didn't and still don't want to understand. 

  You remember screaming too. But, as you finally came to and woke up in an unfamiliar place, you quickly realised that the screaming might have not even been from you.

  And so you're finally back to the present, stained with blood belonging to the corpse on the corner of this abandoned building. You barely recognised them as your roommate. 

  And there he was as well, clinging to you like he's somehow trying to reassure you, or maybe even himself, that everything would be fine.

  He wasn't talking. And for a moment, you wondered if he even could, with the way he sounded so out of breath and pained. Like he was struggling against something.

  You quickly find out what.

  You feel it, but at first you don't see it. The masked man covers your head in a movement that makes you jolt, thinking he was planning on hurting you. But he doesn't. Instead you start having a shortness of breath as he clings to you like his life depends on it.

  You can't stop yourself from violently coughing, whatever is currently happening does not spare either of you.

  Something shifts in this dilapidated place, feeling like it's somehow violently scratching inside your head. You catch a quick glimpse of an impossibly tall "person" in the corner where the corpse of your friend lays, its limbs as if they have been grotesquely stretched. 

  You wish you hadn't. It felt like death. It looked like it, too.

  But it disappeared as quickly as it had manifested in your vision, leaving behind a feeling of dread and emptiness like you never felt in your life.

  The masked man wheezes in pain, but still refuses to let go of you. As he starts to stumble himself into a standing position while dragging you along to stand as well, you notice it.

  Something's missing.

  The body. The body is gone.

  He grabs your face and abruptly forces you to look away from the corner of the room and instead at him. The mask he's wearing does not help with the way you're shaking, but his eyes look so, so familiar. You almost felt inclined to trust him.

  Little do you know how long he has been looking for you. How long he has watched, how long he waited to get rid of that obstacle that lived with you and whose stupidity and naiveté could put you in danger. And look at what just happened.

  Now that he has you, he can help you. He can, he can, he promises he can. And he'll be damned if you're going anywhere that isn't with him.

 Your eyes widen as he pulls something out of his pocket and clumsily flips it open. A switch blade, serving clearly as a warning. He brings it closer to your face, eyes darting to read your reaction, and then motions with his head as if to tell you to follow him.

  You're both still pretty shaken up, but you choose to not try your luck. Instead you nod and he immediately starts dragging you, guiding you out of this abandoned building with the alarming precision of someone who's very familiar with the layout.

  You don't know where he's taking you, but you have a feeling you're not coming back home.

[thediaryofaurora]

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✩Introduction post✩

— I’m Aurora, or Rory, or Rora. :) I’m eighteen, I won’t write NSFW for characters under 16. My birthday is 12/28!

— My account is all Creepypasta & Marble Hornets related.

— My top three bands are Radiohead, Arctic Monkeys, and MCR!

— I’m going to post thoughts, one shots, miniseries, and headcanons for my favorite characters and fandoms! NSFW and x-reader requests are welcome!

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Creepypasta / Marble Hornets

Kinktober - 2024

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Jeff the Killer

— General HCs

— NSFW HCs - In progress - Request

— Kinktober - Day 1

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Ticci Toby

— General HCs

— Relationship HCs (SFW & NSFW) - Request

— Kinktober - Day 3

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BEN drowned

— General HCs

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Eyeless Jack

— General HCs

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Homicidal Liu

— Kinktober - Day 2

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Tim Wright / Masky

— General HCs

— NSFW HCs - In progress - Request

— Kinktober - Day 4

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Brian Thomas / Hoodie

— General HCs

— Kinktober - Day 4

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X-Virus

— General HCs

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Bloody Painter

— General HCs

— Relationship HCs - In progress - Request

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Nina the Killer

— General HCs

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Clockwork

— General HCs

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Kate the Chaser

— General HCs

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Jane the Killer

— Nothing yet

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My requests are always open!

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[bleghbleghladydeath]

I've been thinking about JAM. And idk why. But technically this isn't Jam. It's Masky x Jay instead of Tim x Jay. It's...May, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

But seriously, here's the angsty oneshot. TW: Thoughts of suicide, grieving, depression, self-harm, sad Masky.

The Masked Man stared, the nose of his mask spressed hard against an analog TV. He stared stupidly hard at a video of Jay. He had one hand on the screen and the other on his leg. His eyes hurt from the proximity to the TV and from how long they've been open. His ears also hurt because he's been blaring the TV for more than an hour now. His nose hurts a bit because of how hard he's pressing against the TV. He doesn't care though, anything to feel close to him again. A bloody steak knife lay on the floor next to him. Blood trailed down cuts all over his chest and sides. He had thought of taking the knife and just ending it all. Maybe then he can see Jay. He pulled away a bit, staring at Jay as he did a little dance in the camera. He had a bunch of extra tapes of him just doing random shit, trying to ignore the horrors going on. It's cute. He started to sway side to side, body shaking. Jay laughed when he tripped up a bit. They did a heart to the camera before switching it off. The Masked Man rushed to get another tape. This one had Jay just talking away to himself and the camera. "And like...that mask is kinda hot...do I have a mask kink?" Jay mused.

The Masked Man thumped his head against the TV lightly. Jay continued to speak away happily. He leaned back and thumped his head a little harder. He suddenly grabbed the TV. Jerked his head back and was about to slam his head into the TV when he stopped himself, sniffling. They plopped onto their side and stared at Jay silently. They paused on a frame of Jay smiling. They stared for a couple minutes before taking their blood and drawing a little heart around Jay's face. They then laid down and stared at Jay till they finally fell asleep.

When Tim woke, he stared at the TV then his torso. He looked around confused. "What the fuck happened last night?" Tim asked.

He then noticed the blood heart fully and stared. He stared. "...Damn..." Tim mumbled, stunned.

He he took the mask off and then noticed the tear streaks all over his face.

"Poor thing.." Tim hummed.

[villruu]

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss murderer/stalker + Brian and Alex?

I loved this prompt so much ough (this is just over 2K,,, this was meant to be a drabble lmao). Ended up including Tim (bc how could I not???)

On AO3

Anyways, have the beginnings of the Worst Road Trip, Ever.

This is an alternative ending to Entry 67

⸻

Brian held the gun loosely, staring at the weapon, flicking the safety on, off, on, off, on, off.

It was just the two of them alone now, on the building. 

Tim was probably far away enough by now, Brian thought, he had been too dazed, too lost under the grip of that fucking thing to refuse. For the better, anyways, Tim was always loose and stunned in these moments, and while he always followed Brian’s lead, it was better to not let an unknown variable in a situation as delicate as this one.

He should be just arriving to his car, probably, if he hasn’t collapsed yet, Brian’s inner clock told him if it wasn’t broken beyond repair thus far. 

Maybe, Brian thought almost fondly, this time he would catch a ride with Tim back into town. Maybe this would be finally the time he allowed Tim to see his face during the day again.

Safety on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off.

Alex’s struggles had finally stopped, Brian noticed once he entered the room again.

The other man just laid on the floor, a drying track of blood down his nose, a blooming bruise on his cheek where Tim had punched him particularly hard.

He looked pathetic.

Good, he thought viciously, good.

If Brian could speak normally, if he could speak, he would viciously tear into Alex, dismiss and rip every little thought the bastard had, make him die in distress, knowing that everything he had worked for was all in vain, a fool’s errands, the crusade of a man who knew he was in the wrong and still tried to comfort himself with lies.

Safety on, off, on, off.

But he can’t. At least, Alex will die just like his other victims did, without a single word to excuse the crime, dying without even the grace of knowing.

He can’t help the grin under the mask and he levels the gun at Kralie’s face. His eyes are tired but frowning, both accepting and rejecting what is about to happen. Coward, he thinks bitterly.

Safety on, off.

The gun feels light in his hands, but Brian knows that it is heavy with all the blood it has spilled.

He draws the hammer back with his thumb, watching how Kralie’s pupils shrink at the sound. 

His hands are steady, the most steady they have been ever since this asshole decided to hit him with a metal bar. He wonders if Alex remembers this place, if he remembers that six years ago he found Brian wandering this dilapidated room dazed after the encounter from that thing, if he remembers how he pretended to comfort Brian, if he remembers holding the metal bar, if he remembers leaving his fucking body beneath a bush.

…He doubts it, but he likes to imagine the other remembers.

It makes this whole thing fit better. An irony, a metaphor, a final fuck you to Alex Kralie’s pretentious ass.

Brian moves slowly, to savor these final moments. Over six years of this, finally coming to an end. Finger resting on the trigger, watching how Kralie’s eyes follow each movement. Every hour spent seething, hating, living out in the wild, living as a ghost, forced to ignore every missed call from Tim, forced to ignore his mom’s unanswered texts, forced to live on scraps and hate.

All of that, to finally end in this. Holding the guy responsible for everything.

(Tim may be the origin but Alex Kralie is the truly one at fault. He can manage Tim once he gets this done with, but for now, he gives his everything in his hunt for Kralie. And it has finally paid off.)

It feels a bit weird that Tim is not here, watchful presence behind him ready to attack as he commands, loyal guard dog ready to bite whoever he is directed to. But it feels more real like this. 

Just him and Kralie, alone. 

Only one of them is walking out of this alive, and they both know it.

And as much as Kralie may be doing that thing’s bidding, Brian is the one who knows how to escape the Operator’s realm. He is the one who has spent six years giving parts of himself to escape the Ark, he is the one who knows how to escape that thing’s grasp. As much as Kralie may have unknowingly worshipped that creature, it will not save him once he is left in the Ark.

The camera he holds on his other hand. He isn’t sure what he will do with the tape, just yet, but he will figure something out.

Maybe upload a part of it for the channel, maybe leave it for Jay, maybe simply burn it. 

A way to make this real, perhaps. If it’s filmed, if it’s recorded, then it can’t be forgotten. It can’t be hidden.

(Like Sarah’s, like Seth’s, like his—)

Just as he finally aligns his sight, the gun pointing straight between Kralie’s eyes, is when all goes to hell.

First, the camera stops working properly, screen lagging behind and pixelated.

The humming in his bones grows louder, louder, louder. 

And then, the sensation of something watching.

Brian turns around, and he can see it, can see it slowly leaning out the doorway, still far away enough to run away, but close enough to make fear and surprise fill his body.

Safety on.

Put the gun away in his jeans, shut the camera off, prepare to run away.

Brian’s eyes land on Alex’s figure and he hesitates.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie will get away again.

If he leaves, who knows Alex Kralie is gonna hurt next?

It’d be so simple to just kill him now. Quickly pull the trigger and bolt away.

But he didn’t want the Operator to take the body. The lighter in his hoodie weighs heavily in his mind as he quickly tries to think of what to do.

It shifts closer.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie lives.

If he stays, he will die again.

(Brian can’t go to the ark again, not this soon. He doesn’t have enough to give, he doesn’t have enough, the ark takes and takes and takes and Brian is a husk, he can’t go, not again, not so soon. He needs time, he just needs more time)

Static grows louder.

Everything is normal, he reassures himself, despite how he can feel himself shaking, everything is fine.

It gets closer.

I worry about nothing, Brian tries, but he can feel the static, the blankness slowly creeping on him, cause nothing’s…

Static.

Nothing’s…on…

The shift of rubble. A tilt of it’s head. On the floor, Alex Kralie whimpers in fear.

Fuck this, Brian thinks, crouching down and with shaking hands pulling out the small knife he keeps on him.

Alex tries to rear back at the sight of it, but Brian focuses on quickly cutting the ties, mind going into overdrive as he tries to ignore how he can feel that thing getting closer, closer, cLOSER—

Quickly, before Alex can react, Brian whacks him as hard as he can on the head with the butt of the knife.

Ignoring Kralie’s pained yelp or the way he slumps, Brian grabs him and with a strength purely fueled by adrenaline, holts him up and starts running. He can hear the Operator grow louder, it’s displeasure easy to tell by the way reality almost seems to warp around him, but Brian has long grown used to this.

Without hesitation, Brian keeps running, as the environment shifts around him. 

Hospital, forest, hallway, his house, forest, hospital, forest.

As much as the Operator may try to keep him here, Brian’s sheer adrenaline is enough to keep him going. The longer it goes on, the less intense the shifts are, until he is left alone in the forest, a few miles away from the abandoned building. He’s in Rosswood, fortunately, so it’s easy to orient himself and keep running towards where he knows the park ends.

He can feel Kralie struggling weakly in his hold, but it is easy to keep him subdued, the other too weak from the hit, probably too dizzy to act. Brian would know, he was in that situation once.

As the woods start to thin out, Brian finally spots the parking lot. 

Blessedly, Tim is still there, standing dazedly by his door, mask in place, looking slightly confused about Kralie’s presence but waiting for his cue to know how to react.

Good. Things would be more complicated if the conscious Tim was awake.

Struggling for breath, Brian slams the rear door open and practically shoves Alex inside, quickly climbing in as well.

He gestures sharply for Tim to get in the front seat, and the other does.

Brian struggles to speak, trying to make his mouth say the word drive, but it is useless, still too agitated and filled by adrenaline to take the proper time to force himself to speak. After a few tense seconds, he throws his hands in the air and simply waves at Tim to drive.

The white mask tilts to the side confused, like a dog trying to figure out a new trick, but before Brian can try again, with a burst of static, the Operator appears at the edge of the forest, frighteningly close.

Tim startles, jumping, but thankfully quickly gets the idea, turning the car on and slamming onto the reverse, the tires screeching loudly as Tim absolutely floors the accelerator.

As Tim quickly starts driving away, Brian focuses back on Alex.

Kralie looks sweaty, with a vaguely nauseous look on his face, trying to move as if he were wading through molasses.

It is easy to manhandle him, pinning him to lay on his side, seatbelts easily serving as restraints as Brian tries his best to tie him up as strongly as possible. A few zip-ties still left in his hoodie pocket help him tie his hands together behind his back, quickly tying the feet together as well, as Brian realizes he could still kick.

He does make sure to tie him up while laying on his side. It’s very probable that he throws up from the injury, likely soon, and the last thing Brian wants is Kralie choke on his vomit. He’d rather kill the man himself than let some vomit do the job for him.

After making sure it’s as safe as it's gonna get, Brian climbs into the front passenger seat, dropping with a tired sigh.

Alex can’t see him from the back, so Brian takes off his mask with a sigh, passing a hand through his sweaty forehead. Tim tilts his head slightly towards him, still somehow keeping the eyes on the road, but clearly waiting for an order.

And Brian… Has absolutely no idea what to do now.

After what feels like an eternity, watching the trees blur together through the window, Brian shrugs.

“...House,” He manages to slur out, voice as loud as a whisper, hoarse and gritty. The word is almost incomprehensible.

Tim nods sharply, however, easily understanding him, and something like fondness swells up inside Brian.

Despite their differences (liar, liar, LIAR, FILTHY FUCKING LIAR, IT’S HIS FUCKING FAULT—) Brian can always trust on Tim to understand him, somehow, through the slurring of his voice and the codes in his works.

After regaining his breath, Brian pulls his mask on again and sighs.

Maybe it is time that Brian brings Tim (the real Tim, the awake one, the conscious one) back on board. It would be difficult to shake Jay off, if Brian manages to convince Tim to go fully off-grid with him for a bit, but it wouldn’t be that hard if they’re lucky.

Moving the rear back mirror, Brian looks at Alex.

Once they get far away from the Operator, they can take care of him… Hopefully. It shouldn’t take long to shake that thing off their tails.

…At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees the Operator appear under the nearest streetlight at the red stoplight.

With a startled noise, Brian whacks Tim’s side, the other startling as well once he notices the thing nearby, pressing down his foot on the accelerator and crossing the red light without a single care as to any possible other cars nearby.

Okay, Brian thought calmly and firmly ignoring his wild heartbeat, maybe Tim’s house is not a viable plan.

…

Fuck.

He just waves at Tim to continue driving, and drops his head on his hands. 

Okay, alright, he can adjust to this, no problem. Alright.

Brian grimaces under his mask, trying to ignore the Operator reflected on the rear back mirror.

He’s just currently trapped… In a moving car… With a nauseous Alex Kralie in the back… And a Tim Wright in the front seat who is very close to “waking up”... This is, this is fine.

He did always want to go on a road trip, Brian thinks a bit hysterically as he notices Tim starting to seize up and urging him to move to the side.

Quickly switching seats with Tim, Brian gets back onto the road and tries to ignore the anxiety creeping up on him.

This is gonna be just fine… He’ll… He’ll figure something out.

Surely.

Yeah.

[lizzy-luvbot]

Hi! I go by Lizzy and I’m 17 years old!

I’m looking to make one shots/handcannons! So I’m making this post to Introduce myself and list a few things in interested in writing for in hopes of people sending requests!

I am also interested in making fanfics if enough people want one!

Some things I will write for!(not all of them)

Creepypasta

That includes, marble hornets and Everymanhybrid!

Sally face

Twisted wonderland

Sam and Colby

Jake and Johnnie

Fairytail

South Park

One piece

Naruto

Blue lock

Tokyo revengers

Genshin impact

80s and 90s rockstars

(Includes but not limited too, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, megadeth, Pierce the veil, Cinderella, kiss, etc.)

Wind breaker(the anime)

Etc.

That’s all I can think of for right now:( but don’t feel discouraged to ask me questions I’m always will to do research to make a headcannon/oneshot happen!

Again there is more that I’m willing to write for but right now my mines gone blank:(

[flowingivy]

should I write a series.. honestly I've always wanted to write fics, but I haven't been able to think of any ideas if anyone has ideas pls let me know🙏 I'm willing to write the following

♡ creepypasta

♡ jjk

♡ marble hornets

♡attack on titan

♡ COD

☆ Type of writing ☆

♡ headcannon's

♡nsfw/sfw

♡one shots

♡series

♡angst

[drrealityslenderverse]

Helpless

A03 Request: Alex(MH) x HABIT, with a hint of Evan x Alex (MH), hurt/comfort with a pinch of fluff

CW: Most hurt with very warped 'comfort' considering it's coming from HABIT. Warning as well for gore and mentions of cannibalism

Back to main Contents || Back to One-shot Contents

“I don’t know what to do.” 

“You think I do? You think anyone does?” Evan spoke quietly, hand lazily combing through Alex’s hair. 

“I killed my friends… and—”

“And it was because It manipulated you.” A glance down where the man was crumpled, hunched so his ear could rest over Evan’s heart. “You didn’t enjoy it, right?” 

“No!” An immediate response full of disgust at the idea he might’ve taken pleasure in his girlfriend’s death or in killing that guy in the tunnel or hunting down Jay, Tim, and Brian. 

Evan hushed him, gently rubbing circles on his back through the jacket he wore in an attempt to soothe him. Alex took a moment to settle, eventually lulled back into a more relaxed state listening to the heartbeat and the way the shorter man’s hands continued to trace patterns along his back at random. They eventually trailed upward and back into his hair to once more comb through it. A quiet breath escaped as his eyes half closed from the sensation. It had been so long since he’d had contact with anyone like this. He savored every moment. 

The pulsing sound of a heart pumping blood picked up until it was racing and pounding in both his ears. The hand in his hair went from the soothing motions in the memory to yanking him up off the floor, wrenching him back into the current reality. A hoarse shout escaped his dry throat.

“Wakey, wakey.” HABIT’s mocking voice stung worse when it sounded so much like Evan. 

But Evan would never speak to him like this. He’d never do this to him. 

“I brought you a gift.” 

Alex grunted as he was pushed back onto the hard ground. Half closed wounds stung as he forced himself to sit up again, dreading what this ‘gift’ might be. His stomach churned at the mutilated sight before him. It looked like Tim, he’d escaped, it was entirely possible it was Tim. Alex opened his mouth, to say what he wasn’t sure himself. A mix of emotions spun around: hatred for Tim for bringing hell upon them yet regret and fear for him was there too. Evan had helped him where he could never have trusted Tim to do and his time before HABIT took over gave Alex back some of his reasoning. Tim didn’t deserve to die, none of them did. 

HABIT crouched and leaned closer, whispering in his ear with a gruff voice that sounded much too pleased at the reaction he was getting. “You like it? I found him for you… You want him dead, now’s your chance.”

Tim was alive? Horror stabbed deep in his chest as if he’d physically been stabbed. Alex didn’t think anyone could look like that and still be alive. “...Tim?” 

A twitch of a finger just barely noticeable and a faint gleam of recognition as dark eyes, or was it just one eye now, looked his way. Alex heaved, bile momentarily overwhelming the coppery stench of blood that had seemed into the room itself. Breaths came out in pants as he choked up more. Alex felt dizzy, battered body swaying. 

He wished he was dead. He wished Tim was dead so he didn’t have to suffer at HABIT’s hands. At least the others were. HABIT couldn’t touch them. Perhaps Evan had it worse of all though, being forced to do as HABIT wished with his body without being able to do anything about it. Alex hadn’t believed at first that Evan was aware… a short break where HABIT let Evan take over again had swiftly changed his mind on that. 

Dry sobs sent pain through his lungs. It was hard to cry when you’d cried yourself to oblivion each night… or day… or whatever time it was when HABIT would finally be done with him for a while. 

“Alright, guess I’ll do it myself.” HABIT snapped impatiently, standing and sending a hefty kick to his ribs as he walked over to grab a knife. 

Alex let out a soundless cry as he felt a rib snap like a twig. Agonized coughs left red droplets dotting the floor and leaving the familiar metallic taste on his tongue. Hazily, he watched as HABIT approached Tim. For a moment he believed it’d be over quickly now, surely Tim couldn’t survive much longer like that anyway. 

Wrong. Oh how many more times was he going to fool himself. Alex couldn’t feel the pain but seeing it had him begging HABIT to show some mercy. Hoarse words fell on deaf ears until finally, there was silence. 

Alex was balled up and huddling against the wall, unable to look at the worsened sight before him. A hand wet with blood patted his head and he flinched away as HABIT crouched before him. Even without the blood he’d look threatening, now he looked downright terrifying. It reminded Alex of a predator looking at its next easy meal. 

A look of apology appeared, the guise so good Alex could almost be fooled that Evan was back. He wasn’t though. The way HABIT’s lips twitched upward at the edges as if to fight off a grin at his state was enough of a giveaway. 

The hand continued to pet his hair like he was a dog, smearing Tim’s blood throughout. A numb feeling was taking over him, accepting the disgusting gesture of feigned affection. “Come on, I thought you wanted him dead. I went through all that trouble to get him here.” 

HABIT shifted closer, practically looming over him as he gripped Alex’s jaw and forced the man to look at him. “You got what you wanted. All of them are dead, except Evan but I’m working on it.” 

“Mno!” His voice was muffled by the harsh grip. 

“Stick-in-the-mud had nothing on me, hmm. Unlike It though, I’m open to reason.” HABIT’s face was inches away now. “But I get the feeling you’ll still say no to helping me… Shame, I was prepared to throw you a bone after holding yourself together so long. Fix you up all nice again, like a little pet to fetch when I said so. We could’ve been great, killing the stick-in-the-mud. But it seems you like suffering, don’t you?” 

Alex tried to shake his head. He hated both options. Help HABIT and he’d get stuck watching others be put in this same position, slow torturous deaths. While killing the Operator was a tempting proposal… Living under HABIT’s command was worse than what the tall entity could ever do. Continue refusing and he’d keep living like this until HABIT grew bored and made Evan watch as he was killed—any hope of reuniting again disappearing forever. 

A malicious glint and the fingers in his hair curled tight enough to pull some of his hair out. Teeth grazed at Alex’s throat. “I’m going to kill you. Slowly over the coming days. Evan’s going to watch as I eat you alive piece by piece, then pick my teeth with what remains of your bones after I’m done crushing them.” 

The decisive tone made his fate feel so final that Alex didn’t doubt the truth of the words. HABIT stood, leaving him with the corpse for the time being. Alex sat there, staring emptily at the floor. Everyone was dead because of him. He’d never see Evan again, he couldn’t save Evan from what was about to happen. Alex felt worse knowing that than knowing he was about to die. He wondered if the others who died before him would be waiting to rip him apart again for his crimes…

[bogusboxed]

“Taking The Backseat.”

”Taking The Backseat” -Tim Wright X GN!Reader -All Rights Reserved to Troy Wagner.

I do not own “Tim Wright” and do not take credit for him.

-

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Grief, Lost.

-

You fidgeted with your hands, waiting for something to change. You waited for something beyond what was set in stone and had half a mind to leave before it could happen. You couldn’t do it, but you also didn’t have the energy for that either. You didn’t want to deal with the reality of your life. You didn’t want to see any of them leave. Not when you’d known them this long. You worked so hard to keep everyone together, but here it was falling apart in front of you. You felt weak, with nothing but your mind to comfort you. But even saying that felt ironic, given that it was the very thing betraying you. It was overflowing with the future and the realization that you'd never see each other again. You felt much smaller and more insignificant than a waterboarded cigarette. You couldn’t have that light, and you would never give it away. The backseat seemed to cage you in, as you didn’t move. You couldn’t. Even when the trees peered into your vision. All you did was watch. You sat back and watched everything unfold. And maybe that was your problem doing just that. You exhaled a shaky breath as you heard a light exhale from the driver's seat. You looked up in the rear-view mirror to only see your reflection. You could see how tense you looked. How exhausted you looked. Though it was nothing in comparison to the man driving the car. Tim. He had his hair much longer than before with the combination of his thicker facial hair. He hadn’t taken care of himself, which was apparent in everything he did. The way he talked, the way he stood, and even the way he looked at you. You looked away from the mirror to the dashboard, focusing on the dark burn marks left on the thick, dark plastic.

"Your exit should be coming up soon." Tim glanced at you ever so slightly in the mirror as you uncomfortably shifted.

You wanted to curl up into a ball. Was there anything else to be said? Was there anything else you could do? You knew deep within that this was the last time. The time last you’d be in the back of his car. The last time you’d be in the backseat of things.

"A-huh," you muttered, not bothering to raise your voice above a whisper.

You couldn’t bring yourself to. You didn’t want this to be the last time. You didn’t want to lose your friends, though that had already happened. You all vowed to lose contact with one another, and this was it. You’d already lost Jessica in a memory. Could you bear to lose Tim the same way? Could you lock him away in memory? Did you have it in you to let him be happy? Did you have it in you to not be with him to the end? In the uncomfortable silence, you kept your poker face, not letting a tear roll down your face. You were so tired. Tired of everything. Tired of the way you’d do everything you could just for it to fall apart moments later. What were you doing wrong? Did you not do enough? Were you not enough? For a brief moment, your breath was suffocated by those questions. You weren’t ready to say goodbye. You wanted to be self-fish. You wanted to go down with the burning ship.

"Fucking hell," Tim huffed under his breath for a moment focused on something.

"What?" your instinctive curiosity got the better of you, snapping you out of your previous thoughts.

"Running low on gas," he replied as he turned on his turn signal.

He sighed, not in the mood for such stupid problems. You slouched, letting your posture fall as you rested your head against the side of the car. You could feel your seatbelt restricting your movement as cars passed. You didn’t know how, but you felt much calmer. Perhaps it was the fact that he was speaking to you, and it felt like a different, more nostalgic time than this one. It was sad in a way. It showed how delirious you were about the current situation you were in. Why couldn’t you just believe it? It was clear that this was going to happen, but you refused it at every turn. You knew the answers to each one of these questions. You wondered if, in a different life, you and Tim would’ve stayed friends. You wondered if maybe things just hadn’t turned out this way. Maybe Jay would still be here, but, yet again, what-ifs don’t solve anything. The trees that you passed only grew thicker as you went further. Tim eventually reached a small gas station in the middle of nowhere with overwhelmingly low prices. Though in the middle of nowhere, it felt so familiar. You weren’t sure how, but this place seemed to strike a nerve. As if it knew more than you did. He got out of the car just as you did. There was no written rule that said you needed to stay inside. Even when it made little sense for you to get out. You sighed in the fresh air as you got that familiar feeling of being watched. And by the look on his face, Tim could tell that something wasn’t right. Yet, neither of you made a move to go investigate. You both stood there, letting the car fill up. You didn’t bother to run, but you also didn’t care enough to go toward it. You both were just sick of it. That buzzing sound in the back of your mind, in particular.

It was still midday, which felt like an odd time for something like this. Something as depressing as this should’ve happened in the rain or maybe at night. But, no it was in the broad daylight. You exhaled as you tried to stay away from Tim. You tried, but you still felt magnetized by and drawn toward him. He felt safe. He made everything mentally okay, even when he wasn't.  He didn’t seem to care enough to comment on your closeness as he finished up his car. He made sure to take his time with it. It almost seemed as if he too was trying to deny the inevitable. The inevitable of getting back into that car. The car that would lead to each other's end. He stood there for a moment before looking toward you.

"I’m gonna go smoke," he informed you, knowing it wasn’t the best of times but still itching to feed the addiction.

You glanced at him for a moment as he left your side. You decided to follow him, which he took immediate notice of. You could consider this an invasion of his personal space, but you'd never see him again. So, what was the risk? Luckily, he didn’t say anything to you and just let it happen. You followed his anxious frame a little to the side of the gas station. Trees blocked your primary view as he reached into his pocket for a cigarette. You leaned your back against the harsh concrete wall of the station, watching the trees wade in the wind. As you heard the flick of a lighter, you could feel the cold brush against you. You could hear Tim muttering random obscurities under his breath as the number of flicks increased. You turned your head toward him as you watched him aggressively try to get his fix. Though his lighter had been worn out. You felt a smile appear on your face as he looked at you through his frustration. You could tell he processed it for a moment as a pink dusting tinted his face. He looked at you for a moment before you reached into your pocket. You felt your way to the cold metal that was your lighter. You didn’t tend to use it all that much, and you bought it because of Tim. Within one stern flick of your lighter, the flame appeared as he lit his cigarette with no problem. You wondered if this were going to be the last time you’d get to see him like this. Would this be your final memory? You didn't know if you were ready to let him go. You didn't want him to exist only in your memory. You wanted him to be with you. He seemed to take note of your tense posture.

"It’s not all bad." he exhaled smoke as you got it secondhand.

"I don’t want to lose you." you sighed, hesitating for a moment with your words.

If these were the last moments you were going to have with one another, you weren’t going to take them for granted. You were going to tell him straight away, so you wouldn’t be thinking about it every day. Just so you wouldn’t lose sleep. Just to have closure even when you didn’t want it. He stayed quiet for a moment or two before he huffed.

"I’m sorry you feel that way, but this has to happen." he tried to be the voice of reason in a situation that had your heart breaking.

"It doesn’t. You're just trying to run away from something again," you told him, knowing how he could react.

Knowing you didn't want to understand his point of view. Knowing you didn't want him to leave your side. He visibly tensed up for a moment, not expecting that. Though he seemed to understand where your stress was coming from. He knew you didn’t want to lose anyone else, and neither did he. And that was exactly why he was leaving.

"Maybe I am, but we both know what’s going to happen if we stay. We can’t fight it, and I don’t want my last memory of you to be your lifeless body." he coughed on the cigarette smoke momentarily as you huffed it.

You couldn’t care less about the nicotine entering your lungs. You could’ve said something about it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to. There was no way you were going to tell him off about smoking now. You were in too deep. Though his answer showed just how much he cared about Jay, even when he kept making mistakes.

"It's better that we part ways knowing we're still alive than dying in front of each other. We both don’t need that kind of trauma or at least more of it." He held his cigarette lightly, almost as if to have a moment of silence for someone.

You stood there for a moment, letting the silence sink in. You hated how selfish you felt, but it was the right thing, wasn’t it? But what if he was right? Even if it went against everything. What if he was right? You sharply exhaled. You had your reasons, but you couldn’t just keep him there. You wouldn’t be able to. You wouldn’t be able to convince him, and you knew it deep down. No matter how much you tried to deny it. No matter how hard you tried to deceive yourself, this was it. And you were spending your last moments suffering. You hated the fact that you became so close to him. You hated it. It wasn’t fair, but nothing in life is. Because even knowing you’d lose the people you loved you still choose to. You choose to care even though they will ultimately hurt you more when they leave. You moved slightly closer to Tim, knowing you were going through that right now with him.

"Do you think Jay would have recorded this?" you murmured under your breath as you gazed at the trees.

He seemed caught off guard by your out-of-the-blue questions as he tilted his head slightly. He wore an unreadable expression, but not a depressing one. But one that suggested he found it funny.

"I'm not sure, but probably," he huffed, appearing to relax slightly.

You weren't sure why you were asking about something that didn't matter, but it felt right. It felt sobering to have a peaceful conversation about stupid stuff with Tim rather than sobbing about something in the future. For some reason, you didn't want to think about the future. Maybe something had snapped inside of you, or maybe you'd just given up and didn't want to hurt anymore.

"Do you think in a different reality he would’ve tried finishing that movie instead of this?" you sighed in deep thought about meaningless things.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Hate to say it, but the actual movie was absolute garbage." Tim looked toward the trees as well, maybe sensing something.

"So, why’d you come back? Why did you try to help finish it?" you looked at him for a moment as he averted your gaze.

"For my friends. For Brian and anyone else, I lost contact with. And I hate to say it, but I missed you." he seemed nervous to admit it but decided to go with the truth.

Knowing this, it was apparent, and you should’ve seen it coming. But you just thought of it otherwise. It was kind of ironic that Tim went after you, and now he’s trying to leave you.

"Same reasons over here." you hoped he understood what you meant, and you were sure he did.

You both stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company until a light buzz started to ring in the back of your mind. And you knew what it meant. You knew that it was over. You knew what was going to happen, but you wanted to control for once. You wanted to have a choice for once instead of everything being taken away. Even when your choices were so limited.

"I'm going to stay here," you admitted to Tim.

You weren’t going back in that car with that awkward silence. You wanted it to be a happy memory just like this one, so you opted to just call someone else. He seemed hurt by your words and also felt the urge to argue against them. But he knew what he had chosen, and he couldn’t go back.

"You take care out there," he said, looking at you making eye contact and as you looked back you were hit with a different kind of pain.

He looked like he had so much more to say to you, but chose not to. You both left it on that note, as the static only increased. He had hurried movements as he seemed to worry about you. You dismissed his looks. You remembered watching him get into that car and the way he looked at you for the final time. You remembered the empty feeling in your stomach. From when he left your side to when he left your sight. You let him go. You had to let him go because he was your favorite person and you could only manage to wish the best for him. You wished you could’ve said you went back into his car. You wished you could’ve said you didn’t find his missing poster a week from that day. Though that wouldn’t be true if you did say that. Because you didn’t do that. 

You didn't get back into his car.

-

[vikkirosko]

Masterlist Killers

🔪 Jeff the Killer | Jeffrey Woods 💤

Jeff the Killer x Reader headcanons Always getting lost

🎮 BEN Drowned 💧

BEN Drowned x ghost fem!Reader headcanons Falling in love with a ghost

BEN Drowned x fem!Reader Platonic headcanons Affection

BEN Drowned x Reader headcanons Always getting lost

BEN Drowned x Reader headcanons An old game cartridge

BEN Drowned x Reader headcanons Park Ranger

🗡Eyeless Jack 🥩

Eyeless Jack x fem!Reader Platonic headcanons Affection

Eyeless Jack x Reader headcanons Mute

Eyeless Jack x Reader headcanons Culinary experiment

🎪 Laughing Jack 🍬

🪡 Homicidal Liu | Liu Woods 🧣

Homicidal Liu x fem!Reader Platonic headcanons Affection

[cl0udy-kitten]

I desperately need some inspo to combat my writing block, if you have any suggestions for oneshots let me know!

[number1jaymerrickhater]

Not to get all depressing but lowkey having thoughts about Alex Kralie rn

Did he ever feel bad? Did he ever have those moments of clarity where the weight of everything he had done threatened to crush him? Did he ever stare at a wall for hours replaying every moment of the last 7 years trying to figure out where it all went wrong? Did he ever stare at himself in the mirror and just get hit by the realization that his face was the last face his old friends ever saw? Did he ever argue with himself for hours? Trying and failing to think of another way out? Did he ever let himself breakdown or did he shove his feelings down in order to finish what he started?

[your-local-scene-emo]

Hi!!! Its me again:D can you write an Alex kralie lil oneshot where he dresses up in scene kid fashion to go on a date with his punk! Partner? Just something silly n fun,maybe Alex making bracelets for his partner (bonus points if its one of those like matching couple bracelets) and just sort of walking all giggly when people on the street stare at them?

Thank you in advance!!!

yeah :D thank god i know what punk subculture is lol Scene kid! alex kralie x Punk! reader. i made this gender neutral cuz no gender was specified if thats ok :)

You and alex were walking down the street together to go on a fancy dinner date together, your fingers interlocked together as you enter the joint. you two get seated at a place next to a window, with the cushion seat (the best seats) you two were next to a family of four, a mother, a father, and two children.

you two ordered your food, and when you waited that's when the trouble began

"mommy look they look so cool!" the young child says, pointing at you two. you smile at the young one, nudging alex's shoulder, to which he does the same thinking it's cute. the mother frowns though, patting her child's shoulder. "sweetheart, we don't acknowledge those kind of people."

you two can't help but giggle at the mother's words, to which you start to silently mock her.

"no no no dear child, self expression is a sin!" you whisper to alex, mocking the mother. alex snickers, holding in his laughter. the mother hears, huffing and glancing to her husband. her husband shrugs, not giving a single diddly darn shit about you two, just wanting a night out with his family. poor guy.

the lady groans, walking over to you two. you guys quickly clear you throats, trying to maintain seriousness. "hello, i can't help but notice you caught my daughters attention." she says, crossing her arms. you nods, apologizing. "um, sorry, but we can't help it." alex is fucking losing it, hiding his face in your shoulder as he holds back laughter, which is causing you to snicker. "oh, so that we both agree that you two are very distracting, change" you dead pan, your brows furrowing. "uh, no." you say, alex taking deep breaths to calm himself down

she scoffs. "how rude, you two should know that your influence is not positive on my children-" "and i respect that but i'm not gonna change for you." you cut her off, feeling laughter coming up your throat.

she scoffs again, walking away and sitting back down at her table. finally, you two burst into laughter, unable to stop. "holy shit! dude did you see-" "uh huh!" "motherfucker!"

you two had a pretty good date, with you two eating some pretty good food and making faces at the older woman.

not proofread lol, probably makes it funnier.

[iamther0t]

Everything Is Fine -- [ Marble Hornets Oneshot ]

Basically, a bit of the aftermath from after entry 87, from Tims pov! its very short T_T

Word Count: 530

Warnings: Pills, sort of vague gore, mentions of murder

Genre: Angst

POV: Tim Wright

Dealing with the aftermath of…everything had become quite the challenge for Tim.

He had a vague idea of how to deal with some of it; drowning himself in pills and trying to remind himself it’s over now were two things he’d grown comfortable doing.

Sometimes, they worked to help him, even if it’s just a little bit, but other times they just aren’t enough.

He’d resorted back to bad habits some nights where nothing else helped. But even that just numbed him, if anything.

He hadn’t had another night where he woke up in an unspecified location with a mask strapped to his face in a few months. Sure, it was great that it hadn’t happened in so long, but the on-edge feeling of not knowing when, or if it was gonna happen again was like a ticking time bomb; or a disaster waiting to happen.

Despite the constant worrying and anxiety, things felt normal for Tim.

Too normal.

It felt like every night he was curled up in the corner of his room, clutching whatever weapon was closest to him and just waiting for that thing to come back, things got both increasingly less, yet more normal.

His new doctor tried reassuring him that so long as he kept taking his medication, it wouldn’t come back. It wouldn’t just show up out of the blue.

While that helped with the paranoia of The Operator coming back, he didn’t have anyone to reassure him that Alex Kralie was truly dead.

Not Jay.

Not Brian.

Not Jessica.

Not even himself.

When he said that phrase over and over, Alex is dead. He’s not coming back, he felt it starting to work.

And when he started calming down, and feeling just the slightest bit safer in his apartment, he felt the blood on his hands.

His knuckles turning white from his grip on the tiny pocket knife as he plunged it deep into Alex’s chest.

Alex’s corpse laying there unconscious.

Passing out on the stairs.

That’s why he moved.

A fresh start, where he wouldn’t be swarmed with old memories and people that he wished he’d never met, for his sake and theirs.

Where, maybe, everything could be normal.

Tim had got his wish.

Everything was normal.

But he was still the same.

A new town wouldn’t erase his past and what he did.

He knows Alex deserved it. He knows it was his only choice. He knew the moment he saw Jay bleeding out on the floor, a bullet wound pierced through him.

Alex was dangerous, and so was The Operator.

Tim just wished he wasn’t the one to have finished the job.

These thoughts haunted him at night, and even at day, too. An increased heart rate, sweaty palms, hyperventilating as he tried to get out, get out, get out–

He’d grown to know the feeling all too well.

So, as he kept a normal routine, living in his apartment in a normal town while he worked a normal job and was surrounded by normal people, he had technically gotten what he wanted.

He wanted normal.

He wanted everything to be fine.

And, it was.

It is.

Everything is fine.