#ticci toby knock off

[fre4kshqw]

The cuties

[rainrot4me]

Sick Days

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

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

TW: Very domestic and fluffy, slight bickering

Words: 6.7k

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

Seven days of pure snowfall and ice.

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

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

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

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

Your front door.

Jeff the Killer ▸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

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

But he just looked so… pitiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“G’night [Y/N]…”

-

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

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

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

In sickness and in health, you guess.

Ticci Toby ▸

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

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

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

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

And he was not happy about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Enjoying what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Toby.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll t- try.”

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

-

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

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

Tim Wright▸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drink this,” you said. “It’ll help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[rat6ix]

Proxy.

Ticci toby x proxy!reader

Wc: 1.8k

— 🐀

Summary: Toby finds out your secret and now you have to make sure he doesn’t run his mouth to his friends.

Warnings: smut (wow, so surprising), sub toby, reader is mean, Toby lowkey scared of reader, Tobys also a proxy, reader doesn’t want anyone in the slender mansion to know who they are under their mask, reader doesn’t live in the slender mansion, knife stuff, reader and Toby went to the same school ,full fic version of my last ticci toby post sorta not really but in the ways that count.

Recently you’ve been seeing someone in the woods by your house. You already knew who it was, an old friend from school. That was the only other person you’d ever heard of called “ticci toby”, It did the take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. You always made sure you knew when he was going to be there, learning his schedule the first few days he started showing up, after all you had your own work to do. Right now you were sitting on your couch, beetlejuice playing in the background as you stared back at Toby from the living room window, a disinterested look on your face. 12am sharp was when he headed back to what you could only guess to be the slender mansion.

You had been there a few times but not long enough for anybody but Ej and slenderman himself to see you. You and Ej were acquaintances, the only one you liked well enough to actually greet whenever you stopped by. He was quiet and didn’t ask questions, the last thing you needed was a nosy fuck in your business. Sometimes you’d bring him the kidneys of your last job if he was lucky, that wasnt very often; they were usually damaged from your attacks anyways. As soon as you were sure he was far enough away from your house you made your way to your room, throwing on a pair of jeans —flared at the bottom so you didnt need to worry about how your boots would fit.

you kept your faded band t-shirt on and threw your old bloodstained jacket from Highschool on. Reaching under your bed you found the box you were oh so familiar with, opening it to find your mask, it was cracked at the bottom and missing a piece over your right eye. You wasted no time putting it on and making your way to where you needed to be, hoping you wouldn’t bump into Toby or anyone else on the way. Slendermans command fresh in your mind as you locked the door behind you, putting your keys under the porcelain plant pot behind of your house so you wouldn’t lose them.

By the time you finished the job and made your way back to your house it was around 3am and you were out of breath and covered in blood, it was caked under your fingernails and no doubt stuck in your hair covering your already blood caked jacket. Your mask was quickly discarded on the coffee table and you stripped yourself of your clothing on your way to your bathroom, making a mental note to clean up before you went to bed. Making sure no more blood came off of you was your number one priority, not wanting to deal with any stains on your bedroom carpet or bed sheets.

Soon enough you were done and dressed making your way back to where you’d left your clothes and mask, putting your jeans in the washer as well as your shirt. You didnt bother with your jacket, knowing it would just get dirty again you threw it on a hanger in your closet. You returned the mask to the box under your bed before deciding to get the beetlejuice vhs tape from your living room tv so you could fall asleep to it. Making sure you grabbed a glass of water on your way back you took your pills and tucked yourself in, making sure you put the now half empty glass of water on your nightstand just in case.

The next day you were expecting Toby’s stalking to continue but a knock on the door snapped your gaze away from his usual window. You stood up, throwing your blanket off your lap and pausing saw (2004) on your tv. You opened the door, not as surprised when you realized it was toby, missing his usual goggles and muzzle as well as his jacket. Only a black turtle neck covered him, you guessed it didn’t matter what he wore he couldn’t feel the cold anyways.

“What brings you here Toby?” You asked, moving out of the door way to let him in.

“Oh i was just in the- the area and i wanted to see if you wanted to han- to hang out.” His words were cut off by the occasional tic causing him to have to restart a couple words.

You nodded with disinterest before making your way back to your spot on the couch waving for him to follow you. He was picking at his fingers the same way he used to in Highschool, seems like people don’t really change. He used to get blood all over his desk at least once a week you just hoped he didnt do the same with your couch. You pressed play on the remote, Amanda’s cry’s filling the room as she escaped from the reverse bear trap. You got about 20 more minutes into the movie before Toby spoke up.

“Do you have a bath— bathroom?” He questioned, looking over to your focused face.

You gestured down the hall not looking away from the tv, you could tell he nodded before making his way down the hall and He really was going to go to the bathroom but your bedroom door was open and he couldn’t help himself. It had been more than 10 minutes before you realized he was still gone, your face scrunching up in confusion as you paused the tv and got up. You footsteps were quiet, you’d memorized every creaky floorboard in your house for thoes nights with the splitting headaches where even a pin drop sounded like a jackhammer. When you made your way into your room you noticed Toby was hunched over something, a box, your box.

“What the fuck are you doing.” You tried to keep yourself from raising your voice, fists clenched at your sides.

He gasped and dropped the box, turning around trying to come up with something but only gibberish coming out. You started to cross the distance between the both of you, toby scrambling to get his goggles and muzzle out of his pockets. Your face dropped once you realized what was in his hand before a humorous expression crossed your face for a split second.

“What? You thought i didn’t know?” You almost laughed at the stupid expression on his face.

“It doesn’t take a fucking genius ‘ticci toby’.” You finally closed the distance grabbing him by the front of his turtleneck and pulling him up off the ground before pushing him backward onto your bed

His eyes widened as he fell back, looking up at you with slight fear now that he knew what you did,what you were capable of. You’d been a proxy longer than him, you had disappeared a year before him but he thought you might’ve just switched schools. He’d only heard whispers about your work around the mansion, Nobody knew who you were except slenderman and Ej but Ej refused to tell him anything and he only “talked” to slenderman when it came to jobs. To say he was surprised to learn who you really were was an understatement, his hands twitching as you crawled onto of him.

“So heres whats gonna happen, im gonna fuck your brains out and you’re not gonna tell any of your little proxy friends who I am, right?” You smiled —albeit unsettlingly—, your hands sliding under his sweater.

He nodded profusely, his hands moving up so you could successfully take his turtleneck off before sitting up. your hands moved down to unbutton his jeans, the metal digging into your finger. You felt his hands tug at the bottom of your shirt, asking for permission to take it off; you only nodded as confirmation before moving your own arms up. You backed off of him for a moment to pull your pants and underwear down, Toby must’ve gotten the idea as his pants and underwear around his ankles by the time you returned your attention to him and reclaimed your spot on his lap.

A small smirk finding itself on your face as you stroked his cock, a whine leaving his mouth every time you reached the tip. You decide to torture him a bit, focusing on solely the tip just to tease. His thighs tensed under you and his whines got louder, obviously affected by your teasing. After a bit more teasing you decided you were too impatient, taking no time to move further up his lap to slide his cock into you. His neck twitched as well as his hands as you rode his cock a strangled noise pushing its way out of his throat. His hands found their place on your hips, Toby not realizing how hard he was squeezing you worried he was going to leave marks.

“Are you sure..I can’t at least tell—“ he tried to ask but before he could finish you’d gotten the pocket knife from under your pillow and held it to his neck.

“Toby, if you tell anyone i swear i will find you and slit your throat in front of everyone at the slender mansion.” You growled, pushing the knife close to his neck.

He swallowed and nodded babbling out useless words of understanding, neck getting nicked by the knife slightly ad he moved, a bead of blood gathering on the wound. You put the knife on your bedside table, still unsheathed just incase you might need it again. Leaning down you put your mouth to his neck, sucking the blood off his neck as he moaned. You continued fucking him, his noises of desperation and encouragement bringing a sadistic smile to your face as you thought of kicking him out and making him walk back to the mansion with a boner.

It didn’t take long for him to get close to finishing, the knife stunt from earlier clearly excited him. His moans got higher in pitch as he got closer, his nails dug into you with a new found sense of purpose. You could feel him forcing your hips up and down every time you slid yourself on his cock, you couldn’t help but dig your own nails into him —not that he minded. You could tell he was going to cum soon, if the high pitched moans werent a good enough sign his erratic twitching was. His fingers twitched against your skin making him loosen his grip on your hips only to tighten them back up as he came, bucking his hips into you. You let out a groan as you came, riding out your high before sliding off him and laying down to his left.

“Am i allowed to stay—stay here or should i leave.” Toby whispered from beside you, looking in your direction.

“I don’t care what you do.” You answered honestly, getting up to make your way to the shower, missing Tobys smile as he got up to join you.

—

Belongs to rat6ix

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

could you do one with the creepy pasta boys where maybe a victim somehow manages to catch them off guard and the reader sees and without thinking nd just out on instinct they end up killing the victim and saving the creepy pasta boys and how they would react to that and seeing the reader covered in blood for the very first time? i’m sorry this is really long😭😭🙏

Wow very cool ask 😮 sorry this took me a bit, I started writing this as headcanons and then I realized that it functioned better as mini ficlets so that’s what I did

Creepypasta boys seeing reader covered in blood for the first time ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, BEN drowned, X Virus, Tim/Masky, Brian/Hoodie

Jeff

You had been seeing Jeff for a while, and though you had an inkling about the type of work he did, you’d never pressed too much for details. Knowing what you did about Jeff, even if you had pressed he probably wouldn’t tell you much. But the curiosity was killing you, so you went against your best judgment and followed him, desperate to know the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

He had just corned his victim, starting with a few slashes to get them riled up before he went in for the kill. You weren’t the best at hiding. Very quickly, you caught his eye and he was completely thrown off. You weren’t supposed to see this.

Taking the distraction as a chance to escape with their life, the victim attacks Jeff, knocking his knife out of his hand and tackling him.

Oh no.

This was all your fault, you shouldn’t have came but… now you needed to do something. In a flash, you had picked up his weapon without thinking, guttural screams erupting from you as you stabbed it into the victims back, over and over until they weren’t moving anymore. Jeff was stunned, seeing your face covered in blood as you panted. The adrenaline wore off and you crumpled to your knees. He pushed the body off of him, not knowing what to think as he looked at you.

In a way, he almost felt… emasculated. He totally could’ve handled it if you hadn’t interfered. Did you think he was weak?

On the other hand, seeing how far you’d go for him only filled him with more adoration for you. He never wants you to do it again, but it was endearing that you’d do it at all.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to interfere.” You were stumbling over your words, feeling so panicked.

“Didn’t realize you were so stuck on me.” He said smugly, drawing you out of your head. He pulled your body close to him, lifting your chin. “I can’t lie though, you look pretty hot like this.”

Now your heart was racing for a different reason.

“You’re not mad at me?” You asked in a small voice.

God, he loved you to death. You’d just witnessed him about to murder someone for the first time and you were worried about him being mad at you.

“Of course not.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “But don’t ever do that again. I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart.”

Toby

Toby didn’t mind bringing you on missions. In fact, he kind of loved it.

As long as you didn’t get too close.

He’d never want anything to happen to you, so he made sure you’d maintain distance if you came with him. Which was never really an issue. You had an incredible ability to just block out what Toby was doing.

He could just pop some headphones on you and leave you in the car and you’d sit there patiently until he was finished. Other times, you were allowed to watch from a short distance, so long as you were out of the way.

Today, you were perched up in a tree, watching from above as Toby took care of his victim down below.

Toby was the type to “play with his food” so to speak. He would often chase his victims around, making gashes and cuts in their arms and legs until it got too hard for them to run.

This victim was particularly vigorous, despite the extensive damage to their body, they were still fighting tooth and nail for their life. Toby didn’t mind that really, he couldn’t feel any of the pain they were inflicting on him, so it was all the same.

It wasn’t uncommon for Toby to sustain a bit of damage after a mission… but this time it was getting bad. They were really getting some hits on Toby, and while he wasn’t flinching at the damage, you were. An anxious feeling was rising in your chest. You knew Toby had no way to gauge when the damage was too bad.

After a particularly harsh blow, you couldn’t take it anymore. You dropped down from the tree, grabbing one of his hatchets that he dropped earlier in the encounter.

In a flash you had bolted toward the victim, swinging the hatchet at their throat. The blood spattered all over you, and yet you felt nothing as their body sunk to the ground, finally lifeless.

“Why -fuck- did you do that?” Toby eyed you with giddy curiosity.

“They were hurting you.” You said simply, tossing the hatchet to the ground. The weight of your actions hadn’t reached you yet.

He bit his lip, grabbing your body and trapping you in a bear hug. “This is almost better than seeing you covered in my cum.”

Your face went red at his vulgar comment, but you couldn’t help but just sigh, sinking into his hold.

Needless to say, he was obsessed with you, even more than before. While he had no problem taking care of his own kills, he’d definitely need to see you do that again.

Eyeless Jack

Murder was a sin you’d never even think to commit. You hated the idea of it all together, and anyone who would do something like that.

But ever since you met Jack, you understood that sometimes it could be a necessity.

He was so gentle to you, so loving. It wasn’t his fault that his body could only survive off organs. You’d come to accept long ago that, in order for this man you loved dearly to live, others must die.

But you never thought you’d be fully confronted with that reality.

Jack came to you one day, horribly injured, barely clinging to life. You were shocked and horrified. He was a demon. How could anyone even inflict this much damage on him?

Slenderman had found out about his relationship with you, and as such Jack was punished. The evil entity had harshly reminded him that proxies weren’t allowed to find love outside the mansion.

Your eyes filled with tears, holding him in your arms. “Jack I’m sorry…. I shouldn’t have…. I don’t know…” you were at a loss of what to say.

He lifted his hand, gently cupping your face. “Don’t be. I’ll never regret loving you.”

“What can I do…? I… how should I help you?” You asked.

He’d already bandaged up the wounds, using his knowledge to stop the bleeding, but there was another problem.

How would Jack hunt?

You could never kill someone, but what could you do in this situation? This time it was necessary. Jack needed to eat. You couldn’t watch him writhe in agony like this. He’d never heal if he was starving.

You didn’t even dare raise the question. You knew he’d just tell you it would be fine. But you knew it wouldn’t be.

So you did what needed to be done.

When you came back, covered in blood, Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I brought you something…” you said in a small voice.

His jaw was dropped open. “How did you…” he trailed off, knowing he already knew the answer.

He was so unbelievably grateful, but he was almost in tears. He never wanted you to have to do that for him.

He was so conflicted by the sight of you covered in blood. You were so delicate, so gorgeous. His heart swelled with adoration for you, knowing you were more important to him than anything else in this world.

However, at the same time, he etched the image into his mind. He’d make sure he never saw you like that again.

BEN drowned

Ben loved you. He truly did. That’s why he liked to push you sometimes.

“If you really love me, you’ll kill for me.”

Your jaw dropped when you heard the words he’d said.

This wasn’t the first time Ben had tested your love for him. All the other times you didn’t mind to do as he asked. He needed the reassurance, and you didn’t mind providing it to him.

But this was…

He wanted to see how far you’d go. He wanted to see if you were truly as devoted to him as you claimed to be.

Would you throw away your humanity for him?

You swallowed hard, finally directing your eyes to the person tied up in the corner of the room. Their body was completely bound and their eyes were blindfolded. You could only hear muffled whimpers coming from their duct taped mouth.

You felt sick. You couldn’t imagine how scared they must be.

“Ben, I-I-I just can’t.” Your voice shook as you stumbled over your words.

His face fell, his expression looking so deeply hurt. It made your heart twist, but the thought of doing what he was worse.

“I’m already making this so easy for you. I’m not asking you to hunt someone down and dismember them. All you have to do is slit their throat.” The knife is his hand gleamed in the light.

Your body just shook. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

“Fine. I’ll help you do it.” He pushed your body closer to your victim, handing you the knife.

You whimpered as he grabbed your hand, guiding it towards the person’s neck. It was so much quicker than you’d expected. Your knife sliced through their skin, blood splattered all over you, and in just a matter of seconds they were dead on the floor in front of you.

You couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. You were horrified, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, covered in blood. You felt so disgusted, trying not to puke at the sight.

But Ben had never seen you look prettier.

X Virus

The lab was such an intriguing place to you. Not only because Cody was there, but because of the type of work he did in there.

You could never really understand all the stuff he talked about, but you were learning little by little, and you were fascinated by all he taught you.

You were perched up on top of one of the lab tables when Cody came in, the newest victim slung over his shoulder. He put them down on the table, their chest still rising and falling.

This one was just asleep, not dead yet. He was patient today.

If you were lucky, like today, you actually got to see Cody test new viruses. It was an experience like no other, seeing all the effects on a persons body. It exhilarated you. Well, for the most part. Just up until the death.

You didn’t love that part but… it was a necessary sacrifice. The work he was doing was so important. He needed subjects to test on, so you’d long accepted that this was part of the process.

“You contained yourself today.” You smiled.

He set his bat down, coming over to pat you on the head. “I really wanted you to see this one.”

You were already buzzing with excitement. “Well let’s see it.”

“Just one second. This formulation has to be kept at a very specific temperature.” He went to go retrieve the mixture while you tried to wait patiently.

You eyed the victim, noticing them start to stir a bit. They weren’t bound at all, completely free, lying on the table.

“Cody…?” You called.

There was no answer.

Suddenly the victim jolted up, fully alert and awake. They screamed until their eyes settled on you, and then they immediately lunged for you.

You dodged quickly, your heart racing. The adrenaline had you acting quickly, picking up Cody’s bat.

You swung and swung, and by the time you were done the lab was covered in red. You panted, sinking down to the floor.

Cody finally returned, almost dropping the vial when he saw the state of the lab. But then he saw you, and he immediately set it aside and dropped to the floor, holding your body.

“What happened?”

“They just suddenly got up and started attacking me. I didn’t know what to do.” Your voice was panicked. “I’m sorry… the experiment…” you trailed off.

“Hey, it’s okay. You did the right thing.” He shushed you, gently petting your hair. “I’d never want any harm to come your way.”

He was shocked honestly, he didn’t think you were capable of doing that. At the same time, he was so impressed with you. You were so much stronger than he thought.

Tim/Masky

Tim always wanted his lives to remain separate. Masky’s existence made that pretty easy for him.

That was until you became a part of his life.

He loved you. He couldn’t stand being away from you, even when he wasn’t himself. It seemed Masky had grown pretty fond of you too.

But like all good things in his life, everything became tainted by that vile entity. It loved finding new ways to torture Tim.

A mission right in the area you live in? Great. Just great.

He had his victim in an alleyway, hoping to get this over quickly. Having you see him do this was his worst nightmare.

“Tim…?”

He was filled with dread to see you stopped right in front of the alley, just as he was about to off his victim. Your eyes went wide and his stomach dropped.

He froze, completely unable to move. You quickly regained your senses after the shock, flying over to Tim, holding his face in your hands. “Tim…! Tim….!”

You were trying to get him to respond to you, but he was stuck. You heard a groan and looked over to the victim that was still lying on the ground next to you two.

You were at a loss of what to do. You needed to get Tim out of here, but suddenly something he had told you in the past had popped into your head.

If Tim didn’t finish out his jobs, he would be killed.

Your stomach dropped. You grabbed Tim’s shoulders, shaking him a bit. “Tim… please….!”

It was no use. You realized what you had to do. You grabbed the metal pipe that Tim had dropped earlier, hoping you could make this quick.

Tears streamed down your face as you finished Tim’s job, crumpling to your knees as soon as it was over.

Tim watched you in shock, trapped inside his own body, helpless to stop you but forced to watch.

After that night, you hadn’t seen Tim.

He couldn’t bring himself to be near you after that. The image of just how much he had tainted you haunting him. He wasn’t worthy of being around you, not after what he forced you to do.

You wondered if it was your fault. Endlessly reaching out to him with no answer.

After weeks without hearing from him, you started to feel restless. You didn’t know how you were feeling, unable to discern what was bringing you back to the alley where you’d bludgeoned someone to death.

But it was the last place you saw Tim.

You walked into it, just a plain old alley. You scoffed, not even sure why you had come here. Until you looked up and saw him.

“Tim…?” You almost didn’t believe your eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry…. I shouldn’t…. But I missed you too much.”

“It wasn’t your fault just… please don’t ever leave again…” your voice was choked up with tears.

“I won’t.” His voice was certain as he held you close to him.

Brian/Hoodie

Brian was never afraid to show his true nature to you. He’d long accepted that Hoodie was a part of him and that murder was a part of his life.

Which is why he knew it had to be you.

From the moment he’d met you, he could see it. Just something different about the way you carried yourself or maybe it was that look in your eyes.

Something told him you wouldn’t flinch at the graphic displays you’d surely witness if you were around him often enough.

Sure enough, he was right. You didn’t seem to mind the nature of his work, even to the point where he could bring you while he did it.

You’d take any excuse to be with Brian anyways and Hoodie was pretty exciting to be around too. Overtime, as your adoration of Brian grew, so did your interest in his work.

You’d never had these urges before, but something about seeing Brian do it just made it seem appealing almost.

You tried to keep it under control. What would Brian think? I mean yeah, he did it, but he was also kind of inescapably bound to an evil entity that was forcing him to do so. You didn’t have a reason. Maybe he would be disgusted with you. There was no way you could tell him how you were feeling.

Although you thought you were good at concealing your interest, Brian had started to notice it pretty early on. He wondered when you’d get the guts to ask him, but months had passed without a word from you.

One day he had brought you on a mission. It was a fairly easy kill, the victim would be easy to take out.

Just as he was going in for the kill, he stopped, turning to you.

“Wanna give it a go?” He asked, extending his arm out to you, holding a knife.

“What…?” You were so thrown off. Had you heard him right?

“I said, wanna give it a go?” He reemphasized his words.

You hesitantly took the knife, still unsure if he was playing a joke on you. But when you looked at his face it seemed like he was serious.

You hesitantly stepped forward, looking over the victim before swinging the knife down quickly, stabbing them.

You loved the feeling, repeating the action over and over until you were covered in blood, panting from the exertion. You were so hyper fixated on the kill that Brian’s voice startled you.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had it in ya.” He chuckled, ruffling your hair.

“I…” you were embarrassed about how into it you had gotten.

“You look very cute like this.” He smiled, taking your hand and helping you up.

Your heart fluttered. He accepted you. You couldn’t believe it.

“Alright, now let’s take care of this junk.” He joked, lightly kicking the body.

Hope you enjoyed!!!! :3 sorry if this doesn’t fit the prompt exactly, I wanted to switch up the scenarios to make it fit the characters a bit better

[uncannydevotion]

a/n: i've been thinking abt this request a lot lately so i've decided to finally write it. only took me two million years <3

includes: ticci toby, the bloody painter, x-virus, and homicidal liu.

warnings: not proofread i am writing this all in one sitting let's hope it's good, attempted murder against the reader in toby's part, angst! :jazz hands:, injuries, blood, panic attack in toby's part?? kinda?? you could call it that or you could say slender was doin some weird shit to his head, mentions of murder, mentions of past bullying, stalking, helen's kinda obsessed, unhealthy relationships, dead parents, needles, whatever the fuck cody injects into people, very morally ambiguous reader in cody's part, brief but slightly descriptive murder, randy is a warning i guess, mentions of fire, mentions of near death experiences, cigarettes, a gun, sully points a gun at reader but there's no real attempt of murder, a test to see how much i remember jeff's story cause i am Not rereading it it's 3am as im writing this.

TICCI TOBY

You really don't know what had compelled you to go into the forest so late at night. No... no, that's a lie. You do know. You knew exactly what had brought you to this forest.

Maybe you were crazy but you could've sworn you had seen your childhood friend at the edge of the forest near the cemetery the other night. It's so stupid, you knew that.

He's been missing for years now, classified as on the run after brutally killing his father, but you just... you had to know.

That's why you had entered the forest that night. No one else would be around, but... you really should've thought ahead, honestly. You should've brought a pocket knife, or some mace, or anything.

But how were you supposed to know that you would end up getting chased through the woods by a fucking crazy guy with hatchets? You don't even know where he came from, he just threw one of the hatchets at you and narrowly missed!

Consider yourself lucky, or whatever, but he seemed fairly determined to kill you.

You hid behind a thick tree, taking a moment to catch your breath. You're not sure how deep in the forest you had gone, but the area was starting to look familiar, so you assumed that you were getting close to the cemetery connected to the town.

But he was catching up to you, and fast. It's not like you could just fight him off, he had the advantage with, y'know, the hatchets.

Quick thinking is what leads to you grabbing a fairly sturdy branch from the ground. It was heavy, but you didn't have the luxury of caring about that right now as you pressed your back against the tree, forcing yourself to steady your breathing.

The sound of tongue clicking was familiar, and it grew closer and closer. You could hear leaves and twigs being stepped on. Cautiously, you took a glance around the tree. The man's back was turned towards you, but he was looking around.

Looking for you.

You knew this was the one chance you had, so you tried to be extra quiet as you approached him, raising the branch up high and using all your strength to knock him over the head with it.

The man falls to his knees, and as soon as he dropped his hatchets, you dropped the branch and snatched the weapons away, throwing them somewhere deeper in the forest just so he wouldn't be able to use them to hurt you.

Now, you knew you should've ran. He was no longer a threat, but... the tics, the way he didn't react to the pain of getting hit over the head like you thought he would've... he seemed dizzy, sure, but he was bleeding. He wasn't clutching his head, he wasn't hissing in pain.

It was all familiar, and it reminded you of...

"Toby?" You sounded breathless, chest heaving as you stared down at him.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, and behind his cracked goggles, you can see the way his eyes widened. Even though most of his face was concealed, you could see the...

Fear? Confusion? You're not sure what emotion it was, but it was so evident in the way he recoils from you when you reach out to him.

"Toby... what-" You couldn't even get another word out before he was interrupting you.

"No! No. No. I don't kn–click–know you." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he sounded pained. Not from the injury you had given him, but... as if there were something else.

You really don't know what's happening, all you knew was that the man you had considered to be your best friend when you were younger had just tried killing you, and is acting as if he doesn't know you.

No... not acting. His confusion, the lack of recognition, it was all real.

You couldn't get another word in before he was breaking down, clutching his head as if something was screaming inside it, "I don't know you! I don't know you!"

The pure agony in his voice had you stumbling back. Clearly, your presence wasn't helping him. Guilt clawed at your insides, and even though you didn't want to leave him like this, even though you wanted to figure out what had happened all those years ago, you knew you had no choice.

You stumbled out of the forest, the sound of Toby screaming echoing around you.

And though it was faint, you swore you heard static as well.

THE BLOODY PAINTER

Being friends with Helen had been hard, even before he killed almost the entirety of his class. He rarely ever spoke to you, and half of the time you wondered if he even thought of you as his friend.

You stood up for him against people like Judy and Ban, but there was only so much you could do.

There was one memory that you always thought of, even after you had grown up. It was the night before the school's Halloween party, and you had dropped by Helen's house to get his help on picking out a costume.

He had seemed... really distracted, that night. He wasn't fully there. When you asked him if he was okay, he just...

"Promise me that you'll stay my friend, no matter what happens."

It had caught you off guard, but you had made the promise. The next night, he killed his classmates before your parents dropped you off at the school. You didn't see him after that, because your parents refused to let you associate with him.

And now, years later, something was wrong.

You had heard from Helen's mother, months ago, that he had been released from the institution he had been in, apparently no longer a danger to himself or others, but he just...

Disappeared. Cut all contact.

And shortly after his release, you heard from an old friend that Judy and Maggie, two of the few classmates that had survived the massacre, had gone missing, along with the other three survivors.

Something deep down in your gut told you that it was Helen. When the bodies of the missing had been found inside of Helen's childhood home, you just knew.

You should've gone to the police, really, but it's not like they didn't already know. There was a manhunt out for Helen the moment the bodies were found, but he was long gone.

It's not like you had to be worried or anything, right? You were in a completely different state, living in a large city. You haven't spoken to him since you were kids, and it's not like he knew where you were at, right?

Well, you were wrong, apparently.

When the stalking started, you didn't want to believe it was Helen. I mean, seriously, why would he want anything to do with you? Unless...

You didn't want to think about it, but... he had gone back and killed all the survivors of his original massacre. And... you were technically a survivor, if only because you were late to the party. He didn't plan on killing you, did he?

Though, that fear was quickly squashed when he started leaving you gifts. They were nothing major, mostly sketches of you. They weren't signed, but you knew who they were from.

The feeling of eyes on you was something you just couldn't get used to, and you swear you started seeing him when you were out in the city.

You wanted to go to a bookstore? Helen was across the street. Taking a walk in the park? You swear you saw him sitting on a bench, sketching.

It felt as if you were going insane, honestly.

You... you really should have gone to the police, you think, when you got home one night to find your roommate hanging from the ceiling, their neck slit and their blood painted all over the walls.

In your roommates blood, on your wall, a heart was painted, followed by a question mark. Was this... a love confession? Was he asking if you loved him?

When you took a step back, towards the front door, you had bumped right into him. He was on you in an instant, and his hand covered your mouth to prevent your scream from being heard by anyone.

"Shh... I'm not going to hurt you. We made a promise, remember?"

X-VIRUS

Living at an orphanage had never been easy. You still remember the day you first arrived. Your parents had both died, and you had pretty much closed yourself away from everyone, refusing to interact with any of the other kids.

The caretakers had been concerned, especially when the other kids had started picking on you for being quiet and 'weird'.

In comes Cody, a kid your age with absolutely no filter and no regard for what was considered right or wrong. To this day, you still don't know what it was about you that made him hang around, but the moment he got to the orphanage, he was by your side almost all the time.

Whenever one of the other kids messed with you, they'd always end up getting injured in some way because of Cody.

Cody was the only person you were willing to speak to, other than the caretakers. He brought you out of your shell, and made you laugh with his stupid, poor-timed jokes. You even became his nurse, essentially, patching up his wounds whenever he got into fights over you.

The day he was adopted was the worst day of your life, you think. It's the first time you cried since your parents died, and you remember clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you.

It was a pretty embarrassing memory, to be honest.

You weren't as lucky as Cody had been. No family was interested in adopting you, and you ended up aging out of the orphanage. Life never got better for you, even after you left the orphanage.

You didn't have many friends, and your coworkers all tended to avoid you because of how apathetic you were. Truth be told, you didn't have any interest in anything.

Every single day, from the moment Cody had been taken from you, was literal hell in your mind. The loneliness, the constant doubts, the self-loathing, everything. It was so much. Almost too much, at times.

But that all changed when you were walking back to your dingy apartment one night after a late shift. You lived in a fairly unsafe area, but the rent was cheap, so you couldn't complain.

Walking by an alleyway, something caught your attention.

It was cliché, honestly. You didn't care if anyone might have been in trouble, but a morbid curiosity got the better of you when you heard someone crying for help.

Taking a stroll down the alleyway, you reached the end and saw something you truly weren't expecting. A man was laying on the ground, a headwound visible while another man stood over him, fiddling with a needle and some sort of liquid you didn't recognize.

"Would you shut up? There's nobody around to hear you,"

That... that voice...

Your eyes widened, but not because you just witnessed some poor guy get injected with a suspicious liquid.

The injured man starts gasping, and foaming at the mouth. Your eyes meet, and he reaches out to you, croaking for help. You just stand there, watching as the man died.

And when you look up, you meet the gaze of the man who killed him. But you weren't scared. You should be, you knew that, but you weren't.

Cody pulls down the mask he was wearing. He doesn't seem at all surprised to see you, almost as if he knew you had been watching.

"Miss me?" He asks. He was smiling, as if he hadn't just killed someone. So many questions were swirling in your mind, but the only thing you could really focus on was the fact that Cody was here, in front of you.

For the first time in years, you smile.

"Yeah."

HOMICIDAL LIU

When a new family moved in next door with two boys close to your age, your parents had practically forced you to go over and introduce yourself to them, trying to get you to make friends.

You weren't at all interested, but you also didn't want to get in trouble, so once they had settled in, you went with them to be neighborly.

Liu and Jeff were the names of the kids. Liu was the older one, only a few months younger than you, and as mean as it was, you were definitely more interested in hanging out with Liu more than his little brother.

It's not that you hated him or anything like that, but... you were a kid, y'know? The thought of hanging out with someone younger than you, even if only by three years, was weird. It's something you felt guilty about now, as an adult, but it's not like you could change the past.

Besides, you and Liu weren't even friends. Not when you two had first met, at least.

You walked to school with him, and you had a few classes together at school, but you already had your own group of friends, and you just weren't interested in making any new ones.

It wasn't until his brother started to get bullied that you two started to develop a bond. You were one of the few people who didn't tolerate Randy's bullshit, so you never hesitated to stand up for Jeff when you were around.

Liu liked that about you.

When he had gotten arrested after falsely confessing to beating up Randy and his goons, you did your best to protect Jeff while he was gone.

To this day, you can't help but blame yourself for everything that happened. The day Jeff had been lit on fire, you had been stuck at home because of the flu. You still remember the scream of pure agony you heard from his mother next door when she got the call.

There were many things you wish you had done differently back then, but alas. Time marched forward.

As far as you knew, Liu died that night Jeff brutally killed his entire family, and you made sure to visit his grave whenever you had time to spare.

Today was one of those days. The sky was filled with clouds, and you had bought some flowers.

Everyone in town viewed the Woods family in a negative light because of the terror Jeff had caused, and still continues to cause to this day, so their graves don't get taken care of.

You do the best you can, but it's hard to prevent neighborhood kids from vandalizing the grave every other week.

But you were pleasantly surprised to find someone sitting behind Liu's tombstone, smoking a cigarette. You had thought that maybe it was an estranged family member, maybe, but as you approached, you couldn't help but notice that the scarf around their neck was eerily similar to the one Liu had gotten a few weeks before his death.

"Uhm, hello?" You call out, curious as to who this visitor could possibly be.

You did not expect for a gun to be pointed at you.

You blink, staring at the gun for a moment, too bewildered to register the fact that you should probably be scared. Hell, you didn't even have much of a chance to register the gun before you found yourself more distracted by the person holding it.

He looked... eerily familiar.

The scarf. The scars littered across his face, on his neck. They reminded you of the reports you read about the wounds Liu had sustained before dying in the hospital.

It was stupid. There's no way it's actually him. No way. He didn't even seem to recognize you. He had a fucking gun pointing at you, for crying out loud!

This was not Liu.

So why did he feel like him?

"...Liu?"

Your voice caused his gaze to change. The gun lowered slightly, his brows pinching together. And in a split second, it's as if he was a different person entirely, the way his eyes widened in recognition.

His gaze dropped to the gun that he had been pointing at you, and he looked absolutely mortified, dropping it and the cigarette he had been smoking.

"I can explain." He says, but he honestly seemed just as lost as you were.

...It was going to be a long night.

[mrswrightreal]

hear me out.. ticci toby puppy play….

(fem reader) readers a new proxy and shes rlly bratty so toby has to set her straight.

pls…

you guys make me queasy like ughhhhh this is so hot UGJRHEHHEHE I'm so giggly... if you couldnt tell i got lazy towards the end im sorry i am cramming assignments and fics in!!

toby rogers x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content sexually, nsfw, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (m!recieving), nasty, aggressive, manhandling, hitting

sit down and shut up.

of course, slender could not do his work for himself, he relied on his dumbfuck proxies. he ultimately decided that toby, tim, and brian, were too.. unsuccessful. so he brought you in. and oh how you were all bark and no bite. they absolutely despised you, but you got work done in the end, and the operator didn't totally hate them anymore. so it was a win on their ends.

there were many instances where toby twitched to throw his hatchet right smack dab between your eyes, but tim would slap him away from it. you were smart and witty, you didn't take anyone's shit. especially not a man's, you were so confident and you radiated it. toby barely spoke to you, due to your remarks back at him, yet you'd never act on them. you were just a total brat.

toby and tim were standing quietly at the counter, sipping some coffee and chatting about whatever was on their mind. you walked in, your aura bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the day. toby could only groan, leading tim to nudge him with his elbow.

"is th-there any duh-day where you aren't guh-gonna be here?" toby muttered into his cup, sipping loudly to annoy you.

"is there a sentence where you don't stutter?" you shot back at him, and with that stupid smile too.

he paused, slamming his cup on the counter. you could see the veins that popped through his beck, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. tims hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him from his anger. you just smiled again, walking over to the other side of the kitchen and looking through the fridge.

"fuh-fucking bitch" he growled, walking back to his room. he'd been pissed enough, and it was only 9am.

and now it's 10pm, the day going by without a word exchanged between you and toby. you and tim had been chatting peacefully on the couch, the TV playing something that was already on. Brian had returned from whatever his day was, standing at the stove and waiting for his dinner to be done cooking. toby was probably pouting in his room, like always.

see, you were sweet, didn't mind people, as long as they treated you the way they expected back. so if someone's a bitch, you're a bitch back. it's simple logic really, you put your foot down and kept your ground, arms crossed and head up. toby found it infuriating, he couldn't stand you! his whole thing for breaking people's minds, it didn't affect you, and God was he just hoping to get his hands on you for all the wrong reasons. show you how to act around Jim.

he was lying in bed, flipping through an old book as he tried to find something to cure his boredom. he room was dark, and definitely needed cleaning. he was known for being unorganized, even in his killings. he left a sloppy mess, blood splattered just like the laundry around his room. and everytime you passed by his open door, you felt the need to comment. and his door was just slightly cracked.

the night came to a close, everyone retreating back to their own personal spaces. you were standing in the kitchen, taking care of a few housekeeping issues before walking down the hall. you notice Toby's door was slightly opened, so you knocked lightly and slipped your fingers through the crack to open it.

"god it's a piggsty" you muttered, looking at his laying form slowly sit up to your intrusion.

"you cuh-come in here just to-to comment?" he scoffed, pushing himself off his bed and shoving his goggles up his forehead, exposing the pale skin and holding his hair back.

he was in loose fitting sweats and a tee, mask hanging around his neck and hair disheveled. his eyes bored into yours, a threatening glare followed by an occasional twitch in his neck. his biceps clung to the material of the shirt, flexing at every movement and veins rippling through the skin. you couldn't help but swallow at the way he towered you, even from farther away.

so of course you ignored your lingering lewd thoughts by being mean, "maybe it'll help you one day. you kinda need it" you retorted, crossing your arms and scrunching your nose at the sight of his room.

he walked towards you, gripping your arm and pulling you into his room. you stumbled a bit while he closed the door, your mouth opening to protest before he wrapped his brooding hand around your throat.

"shut up, yuh-you know how tuh-tired I am of your bratty atti-itude?" he asked, squeezing just the right amount to let you breathe but not speak.

you couldn't respond, only cracks of breaths slipping through the grip of his fingers. you whimpered, eyes watering up at him.

"wanna be-be put in yuh-your place so badly?" he scoffed, shoving you down onto his bed and towering over you.

your lip shook, trying to think of what to say. you watched his twitching fingers go down and undo his belt, sliding it from his pants and huffing. he wrapped his belt around the back of your neck, tugging slightly.

"poor pup" he muttered, yanking you forward and connecting your lips.

the kiss was hot and rushed, your whimpers and pleas feeding into his mouth and going straight to his ego. you tried to push away, but the pressure in the back of your head only stopped you from going so far. you tried your hardest to catch your breath, your mouth opening and allowing toby to slide his along your pearly whites.

he slowly began to crawl over your body, hands landing on either side of your hips and pushing your back against his comforter. his hips settled over yours, fabric barely touching yours. his lips traveled away from your mouth, kissing down your neck and collarbones. his teeth faintly ground against your skin, making you shiver.

he tugged ones more on his belt, making you sit up. "guh-gonna be a good pup for me?" he asked, tilting his head and stretching his hand out to caress your cheek.

you nodded, teething tearing into the lavish skin inside your cheek. you felt your thighs weaken, the way toby had stared down at you like he practically owned you. you press your thighs against one another, trying to draw any friction out from between your legs. toby gripped your jaw lighter, his loving gaze turning sharp and glaring into your soul.

"you wuh-want your fucking tr-treat? earn it." he demanded, tugging harder and making you squeal out.

"I promise-please toby im good, i promise!" you adjure, craning your neck back to look up at him and pout.

he adjusted his stance, reaching for the buckle of his belt and pulling it tightly around your neck. he locked the belt shut and let go, grabbing you by your hips and spinning you around in bed. your stomach pressed into the mattress before your hips were yanked back up, ass right in front of toby. you pushed yourself onto your arms, wiggling your hips slightly and whining.

"patience, pup" he uttered, letting his hands ghost over he skin under the hem of your shirt. he gripped at your bare skin, thumbs hooking under your waistband and tugging downwards.

your bare ass was pressing into his stomach, the chill air making you jolt against the blankets. his hands found the curve of your ass, drumming his fingers lightly. his thumbs found their way between your thighs, pulling your puffy folds apart. he blew a short whistle at the slick that collected near your hole, the air from his mouth hitting you slightly.

"this wo-wont be long at ah-all" he murmured, settling down on his knees and gripping the back of your thighs.

"what are you- wait-!" you protested, trying to close your thighs. his grip was too strong, prying you open like a ripened fruit.

his tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit to hole, digging his face in your scent and lapping every part of you up. you cried out, pulsing around his wet muscle. your arms shook, barely able to keep your torso up. you dropped out, letting your face smoosh against the duvet. you turned your face to see his chest, face burred in your cunt.

the way his tongue moved slowly, teasing with every twitch and suck. he prodded his way though you, earning every delectable moan and beg. your hips rocked back against his face, but his hand reached up and lightly tapped you on the ass, keeping you from moving any more.

he pulled away, licking the glistening slick off of his chin and upper lip. he watched the way your thighs slightly shook, and shiny arousal slide down your thighs. you took a deep breath, pushing yourself up to get a good look at his face. his goggles pushed up his forehead and hair knotted around them.

"wanna earn - earn something muh-more?" he asked, standing up and setling himself in the pillows of the bed. his fingers fiddled with the button and zipper of his jeans, pulling them down yo his mid thigh.

he beckoned his fingers at you, waving you closer. you crawled over to him, sitting on your knees next to his hips. "go on, pup- take-take em off" he said, snapping his fingers down at his boxers.

your slightly twitching hands slid his boxers down as well, cock springing out and leaking precum. your hand hovered around it before looking at him for approval. he relaxed his shoulders, nodding his head. you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and began slowly pumping, palm curling up at his tip.

he sighed out, hand reaching out to tug down on his belt around your neck. he pulled your head down and brought your lips to his leaking tip, chuckling when your eyes widened. you opened your mouth, slowly wrapping your swollen lips around him and taking him down. his hand rested on the makeshift leash around you, tugging slowly to take all of him.

you werent even halfway down before his tip bumped into the back of your throat, making you spit up around him and watch it drip down to his pelvis. he tugged harder, groaning out at the way your eyes became glossy the more and more you choked. he stopped tugging and allowed you to come up, and then duck your head back down. you created a sloppy rhythm, spit gurgling and hands braced against his thighs.

"fu-fuck so good" he breathed, tugging on his belt once more. he pulled you off, catching you by surprise and shoving you away.

he grabbed at your shoulders, switching you two around so he could be on top of you. he lifted your calves over his shoulders and slotted his tip right before your entrance, giving you no warning before pushing his way through. his fingers wrapped tighter around his loose belt, tugging you up to himself and slamming completely into your womb.

"toby- wait! too much! what are you-" you cried out, arms shooting to stop toby from going to hard.

"shut up and take it" he snapped, pulling all the way out before shoving himself back in again.

your face twisted, wincing at the sheer pressure of him stretching your hole out. he slammed against your cervix, hand tugging and pulling at the leather strap to make you look at him.

"please- please toby, ill be good! hurts- please!" you moaned, wetness gushing around his pulsating cock.

your hands tried every bit of their strenght, pushing and pulling at toby's skin or the bedsheets. but to no avail, you stayed put, taking in every slam of his hips into yours. he hit into your gummy walls with no sign of stopping, your gut clenching and feeding into that intoxicating feeling of your release. your nails twisted in the sheets, back arching off the bed and gasps short.

"close! toby- wait this shouldnt- we shouldnt!" you babbled, your orgasm slipping through you like never before.

toby barely stopped before pulling out and gripping your hips to flip you around to your stomach. you tried to catch your breath, pushing yourself up with your jello like arms and opening your mouth to speak. you were only met with the stretch of toby again, aggressively hitting your g-spot once more. he tugged back on his belt, pulling your torso up and back against his chest.

"shut- shut up, be good and ta-take it" he sighed, free hand roaming around our hips and rubbing loose circles into your stinging clit.

tears began rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation, your hips trying to buck away from him. he leaned down and bit at your shoulder, leaving sunken in teeth marks to the soft flesh of your skin. you could only gasp and cry, no other sound would come through your dry throat. his grip was tighter than ever that night, wobbling with every thrust.

"ah-act like a bra-at- youre gonna ge-get treated like-like one" he whispered, rewrapping the belt around his hands and squeezing

your body was limp, only jerking around every time toby hit deep within you. your mouth was hung open, eyes rolling into the back of your skull. your mind was fuzzy, only thought was being dumb on tobys thick cock. you never wouldve imagined this day, nonstop fighting between the two of you. now it was just beat up tension, the way toby ached to control your mouth, especially when it was wrapped so prettily around his cock.

his thoughts made his ministrations stutter, stomach twisting and moans deepening. his hand dropped from your clit, only snaking around to bruise his fingertips into your waist as he grew closer.

"guh-gonna- fuck- fill ya up" he muttered, finally spilling into your warm hole and sucking in a harsh breath.

"toby! you cant-!" you scrambled to pull away, afraid of his seed seeping too far in. but you were too late, tobys grip only worsened and kept you still while he fucked every last drop into you.

"whiny little muh-mutt" he spat, finally letting go of you and letting you fall forward into the pillows.

your thighs shook, tobys cum dripping out of you slowly and down onto the sheets. toby stepped off the bed, pulling his pants back up and buttoning them. he reached over to you, pulling the belt loose and sliding it back into his pant loops. there was a deep red mark burned into your neck from the leather, the cool air hitting it finally felt like your relief.

toby looked at you, completely fucked out and dumb while you laid there. he waited a moment before sighing and helping your clothes back on.

"cant do sh-shit for herself" her muttered, patting your ass softly after your clothes were back on, "ill be- be in the shu-shower" he said, leaving you to lay there and rethink everything you just went through.

you wrapped yourself up in his blankets, eye fluttering closed. you could still feel the sticky liquid that dripped from you, staining your panties and shorts. your brain fell into your tiredness, letting you fall asleep in tobys bed.

when toby came out, boxers and a loose t-shirt, he only saw your sleeping form. his gaze softened for a moment while he brushed the towel through his hair, admiring the way your chest slowly rose and fell. he accepted his defeat, crawling in next to you and just watching. he ran his fingers through your hair, sighing and looking up at his ceiling.

"what am i-i gonna do w-with you" he whispered, before closing his eyes and falling into rhythm with your breaths.

[mercyk1ll3r]

Bats and Axes

Pairing; Ticci toby x proxy!femreader

Summary; a couple months after becoming a proxy, a strange boy sparks your interest.

Warnings; slightly graphic violence, psychopathic reader, not much for first chap tbh.

Wc; 1k+

Credits; axe & bone header - menschenopfer, blood dividers - bucciniexe, caution tape - cafekitsune.

a/n; this will most likely be a multiple part series if you guys r interested in reading it :3 (lowercase intended, idgaf about grammer if i'm writing for fun)

"kill them" the voice pounded in your head, sending shivers down your body and tingling in all your limbs. causing you to grip you head and shake violently at the slightest thought of disobeying.

you could feel his presence engulf and fog your brain, making you nothing but a zombie, a puppet to him. your legs move before you can process. the tingling not ceasing, you can hardly feel your body or collect your thoughts. just a fog as you try to get a hold of yourself or form a coherent thought other then killing.

unsurprisingly your legs take you bolting towards the couple walking a little too closely for comfort near slenderman's mansion, swinging your bat ruthlessly into the woman's face. screams erupting from the both of them, in one of the most pure animalistic sounds humans can create, the sound of pure terror, you cant help but let a smile creep onto your face. this was your favorite part of your job.

you limp your way back to the mansion, now covered in blood and completely exhausted, atleast taking the time to dip your metal bat into the nearby stream.

finally arriving back in your bedroom and stripping off your ruined clothing that reek of death and changing into fresh ones, you crash into your bed. shaking slightly from all the adrenaline still pumping through your body.

you shoot up still on edge as u hear a knock on your door, "cmon y/n you left you leftovers outside, when will you learn to clean up after yourself?" sighing with annoyance you open your door, meeting eyes with ben. he was always fucking bothering you about something, yet he was still one of your best friends, you cant be too picky around here and you guys shared some interests. "wasn't me ben sorry." you say sighing and returning to the comfort of your bed, your body still aching.

"which other proxy kills people by completely bashing their faces in?" u turn around to face him with a defeated expressed, "okay fine it was me, can't i just leave it for EJ?" he just looks at you with that insufferable expression he always does "okay fine i'll go, i'll go!"

wandering back outside the mansion you set your course for the couples mangled bodies, as you reach the area you see a boy you don't recognize. he stands above the bodies seemingly just inspecting them, you grip you bat a bit tighter as you inch closer. "thi-iss your handywork?" as he speaks he turns up to look at you, granting you a better look at his face, seemingly unaffected by your presence, he must be a proxy.

"uhm.. yeah, i was coming to get the bodies." this boy unnerved you, sickly grey skin and a metal cage mask around his mouth showing very little of his mouth, two hatchets hanging low on his hips. "you must be.." his breathy and hoarse voice interrupted by his neck jerking violently to the side. "be a n-new proxy then"

you weren't exactly new, although it was hard to tell. memories of your old life becoming cloudy and harder to recall each day that passed, it had atleast been a couple months though. "new enough not to have met you i guess.." he tilts his head at you stepping over the bodies until there was an uncomfortable lack of distance between you two, what the fuck was this guys problem?

he scans your face seemingly as you meet his brown eyes, pupils blown wide and crazy, before he glanced down to your metal baseball bat. "i'm toby, i'm sure w-we'll be seeing eachother ah-around" he stares blanky at your face waiting for your reaction as he towered over you. "y/n" is all u say as he gives you a slight nod and steps past you, heading in the direction of the mansion.

there was something about this guy.. he was kinda creepy but something about him made you replay the moment over and over again, thinking of his wild eyes staring down at you. you try to shake off the weird interaction and step forward to the bloodied bodies.

"oh yeah, i think toby's back now, he was off on an assignment for a couple months." ben spoke as he continued mashing his controller buttons. he insisted you come over and play mario kart with him after he finally got his hands on a copy. "yeah i met him earlier.. what's his deal? he kinda freaks me out."

"do you remember that huge fire in that happened a couple years ago in the suburbs? totally whipped out the entire neighborhood, killed most of the people inside the houses too."

"oh yeah.. some girl who was in my math class died, she was all my school was talking about for weeks, endless assemblies and memorials." you surprise yourself with the words coming out of your mouth, the memory fleeting and fuzzy.

"well that was toby, killed his dad and set his house on fire. one time i saw him without a shirt on, he's got a bunch or gnarly burn scars.." ben seemed a little sad as he spoke which was odd because he rarely had any type of sympathy for anyone.

"that's pretty brutal.." is really all you can muster, you don't know what else to say. every proxy has their hands dirty with blood after all.

"ben oh-open up-pp!" you jump a little as you hear someone pounding on the door. "dude chill out, i'm coming." ben rises from his nest of pillows and blankets in front of his shitty old tv and lazily walks to the door.

"hey man, it's been a while." you can barely see who's outside the door, but you already recognize his raspy stutter. "ca-nnn i use your comm-computer?" "uhm yeah i guess, for what?" "for uhh.." he trails off as he seemingly notices your presence, eyes going slightly wide with a flustered expression on his face as you lock eyes.

"uhm nevermind i-i don't need it." he says bringing his eyes back to ben's face before hurrying off in the other direction leaving ben at his open door.

ben closes his door and returns to sitting beside you, "what the fuck was that? he's being so weird, well i mean, weirder then usual." he speaks annoyed before unpausing his game.

a/n: hey guys!! sorry this was short and ended kinda abruptly, i've been having bad writers block completing this -__- but regardless i hope u enjoyed. i'm super excited to continue this story and i already have future chapters planned, (probably gonna be a slowburn sorry guys)

[cyberluvzu]

TICCI TOBY DATING HEADCANONS

Ticci toby x reader

Hello people, I haven't written in years but I have some spare time and have been DROOLING over Toby lately so I thought that I could do this.

(please go easy on me I literally haven't wrote anything like this in 2 years)

- COMPLETE LOSERRRR

- Absolutely no dating experience at all

- You're his first everything

- And because you're his first everything, he gets incredibly nervous when it comes to doing new romantic things ( especially something physical)

- He wants to do all the cute couple things with you but he's scared that he's gonna end up scaring you off or making you uncomfortable

- At the beginning of the relationship he would probably be so awkward

- You'd go to hug him and he'd just stand there like🧍

- Don't get me wrong he appreciates the affection, he just doesn't know how to respond because he hasn't had a good relationship with physical touch

- After a couple of months he would slowly start to be more open to physical affection and being more romantic

- Just give the man some time

- When you get to the point of being completely comfortable with eachother he goes CRAZY BRO

- When he does get comfortable he is constantly on your ass

- He comes back from missions and immediately wants to go to sleep with you in his arms

- Bro doesn't even care if he's all bloody, he WILL have you

- You will have to pry him off of you and get him in the shower, or at least change his clothes

- After you get him to clean up he is all over you

- Holds you so close and just knocks the fuck out

- I also like to think that he'll bring you little knick knacks when he goes out

- Flowers, cool rocks, maybe a couple of things he got stole when he was in town!

- He's kinda like a crow

- In the sense of, if he likes you, you're gonna get some stuff

- He likes going on walks with you, it's nice just being alone with you, away from his life

- Is somewhat totally obsessed with you

- When he's not with you he is always thinking of you

- On his mind 24/7

- Totally infatuated with you, loves you completely.

- Has an irrational fear that he might lose you and doesn't want you to ever leave him, because you're the best thing that's happened to him

- Gets jealous, but not in the aggressive way, at least not with you

- Might go kill that person that was hitting on you, but you don't need to know that!

- Will absolutely be passive aggressive with you though

- Says little things to let you know that he's still upset at you

- He just worries he'll lose you to someone else

- Someone give bro a hug already

- Speaking of that, he absolutely adores your hugs, wants to stay in your arms forever

- He likes hugging you from behind

- He also really likes to silently creep up behind you and scare the shit out of you, but ends up giving you a hug to make up for it

- He just loves you

------------------------------------------

GUYS IM BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR Y'ALL TO REQUEST 😭🙏

I'm literally so in the mood for writing about silly little characters now, I have so so many more headcanons for Toby and all of the other pastas, but I'm gonna post this because I've delayed doing it for a while because I'm irrationally nervous 😭

[just-a-creep-babe]

What Makes You Tick - Chapter 2

(Ticci Toby x Reader)

On god idk WHY I struggled sm writing this, hopefully the next few chapters will come a bit easier ;~; Anywho lmk what you think like usual!!

Commissions are open!

Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

Masterlist: x

Prologue Chapter 1

Divider by @plum98

You’re lightheaded.

You think you might faint. The nausea twisting in your gut is threatening to empty the contents of your stomach. And there’s a pounding in your head like something’s trying to claw its way into your brain.

This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

As you’re processing—or, at least, trying to process everything—he jerks his shoulder again and cracks his neck. And it gives you an idea.

You knocked him out once—you could do it again. Maybe you could buy yourself more time to call for help, or wait for the cops to come, or at least secure him with something better than your flimsy shirt.

And so, with a deep breath to steel your nerves, you inch closer. Your fingers grip the edges of your phone so tightly you’re almost surprised it doesn’t break.

You hate approaching him. Just going near him has your pulse spiking and your hands getting sweaty. You try to control your breathing—in and out, in and out. He can't hurt you, you remind yourself. He's tied up and prone on the floor—you have the advantage.

It's what you repeat to yourself over and over again as he just sits there and watches you through his goggles. But even as you try to convince yourself you can do this, you can't help the uneasy feeling that he has more control than he's letting on.

You look down at him, and he looks up at you. His deep brown hair falls over the metallic rims of his goggles. Something about him looks soft and almost... disarmingly innocent.

You swallow thickly, your saliva going down like tar. You can't fall for it.

You or him, you think, if you don't do this now, who knows what he'd do to you if he had the chance?

Your muscles tense, ready to strike.

In all honesty, you should've expected him to fight back. Even despite his compromised position, of course he wouldn't just sit there and take it. But you're so overwhelmed and utterly out of your element that you don't even think to expect a retaliation—not until it's already too late.

Pain burns up your body as he kicks out your legs from beneath you. You stumble with a yelp. In one horribly fast motion, as you’re trying to regain your balance, he rushes up and grabs you from behind in a headlock.

The taste and texture of soft cotton have you choking back a scream. He's gagging you with the shirt you used to tie him up with. You try to jerk out of his hold, but any slight movement has him tightening his arm around your neck.

You can't breathe.

Panic seizes your body, freezing you into compliance against him. His voice is low and quiet against your ear, and even though he doesn't threaten you, you still feel that thrum of danger pounding in your ribcage as he speaks.

"Shh," he croons, the sound reverberating against your backside, "easy, angel, easy~"

His tone is deceptively gentle.

You struggle against him, but he's so much stronger than you could've expected. Your pathetic attempts don’t even deter him in the slightest from tying the gag in a knot behind your head.

When you hear ripping, you flinch, expecting a burst of pain—from what, exactly, you aren’t even sure—but it never comes. Instead, you realize he's tearing your shirt. And then your sight is cut off as he blindfolds you with the excess fabric.

Fight—you have to fight him off.

Everything inside your body is screaming at you to do something. You can't just let him do whatever he wants to you.

You try to yank yourself free, but he flexes his arms and cuts off your airway again. Something like a half-sob, half-choke escapes you as you gasp for air. The gag clings to your throat, and you have to bite down—hard—on the now-wet fabric to prevent it from suffocating you.

"Shh, it's ok, it's alright—sh-shh~"

The hard edges of his mask dig into your hair as he holds you firmly to his chest. You're so close you can smell him—something like smoke and blood and pine trees, and all you can think about is how you need to get away from him.

"You're going to follow me—nice—n-nice and quietly, alright, angel? And I won't—I won't hurt you if you don't give me—if you don't give me a reason to."

His threat has the hairs at your nape standing stiff.

When he starts dragging you away, you don't have much of a choice but to follow.

Blind and mute, you haphazardly stumble in the direction he guides you in. When it’s too cumbersome to walk with you trapped between his arms, he clicks his tongue and loosens the chokehold.

In the ever so brief millisecond he’s shifting his hold on you, you try to make a break for it. But you don’t even get the taste of freedom before he’s grabbing you again, and this time, he ends up pinning both of your wrists behind your back. His grip is painfully tight, like a warning for you to not try that again.

He jerks behind you, with what you assume to be his neck cracking, and then he’s pushing and pulling you this way and that to bring you god-knows-where.

Every time you try to yank yourself free, his grip tightens. His fingers dig so hard into your skin that you know his imprint will leave bruises. And even though he’s guiding you through your own house, it’s impossible to keep track of where he’s taking you. You’re too overwhelmed, your thoughts too frantic to properly focus on your remaining senses.

You hear him open a door, and then he’s tugging you outside. The humid summer air clings to your skin as you’re dragged against your will through your own neighborhood. The only indicator of your whereabouts is the ground beneath your feet, which shifts from hard pavement to soft grass as you’re led away from your apartment block.

You whine against the makeshift gag, trying to chew it off or push it away from your tongue. But it’s useless. Amid your panicked struggle, you scramble for some kind of plan, some kind of opportunity to get out of this, but you can’t think straight. It takes so much energy to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other without falling that you can’t think about anything else.

You don’t expect it when he suddenly jerks you to the side and forces you to an abrupt stop. It has you choking on another gasp in surprise, like insult to injury. When you catch your breath, you realize you don’t know how far he’s taken you. For all you know, you could’ve walked for miles as much as you could’ve walked just a few hundred steps.

You try to speak, try to beg through the gag, but all that comes out is a muffled whimper. You twist in his hold, and his grip tightens until it feels like he’s going to snap the very bones of your wrists.

“Don’t move,” he warns, his voice low over your ear.

You freeze. His warning has a shiver trickling down your spine. He’s so, so close to you. He’s pressing against your backside, and if you shift just the slightest bit, you can feel the hardness of his axes pressing against you.

You swallow back a whimper.

Sirens.

You hear them in the distance.

A surge of desperately hopeful energy jolts through you. They’re here—the police—looking for you. You’re so relieved you nearly cry. But before you can react, as if sensing your shift in temperament, his grip tightens even harder.

“If you try to escape, I’ll bury a—a blade in both your knees and drag you back if I—if I have to.”

His threat, low and quiet and filled with promising intent, has you going as rigid as before.

You hold your breath as you wait—calculating the odds of the police seeing you, calculating how far you could get if you made a break for it, calculating every single odd stacked against you if you dared an escape.

Louder and louder, the blaring sirens approach. There’s more than one car, you realize, more than one chance of getting noticed. But you also know that he's probably hiding out of their immediate line of sight, and if you just stand there like he wants you to, they’ll probably never see you.

Still, his threat hangs in the air. Your body warms with impatience, but you just can't bring yourself to move. With every second ticking by, your chance at freedom is slipping through the very cracks of your fingers. You try to stay calm, try not to panic, but whether you like it or not, you're racing against time.

You haven't seen his face, you think, if you somehow got the cops' attention, would he risk getting caught? Surely, it wouldn't be worth it. Surely, if it came down to it—if it came down to either you or him confronting the cops—he'd release you and run away.

But would he hurt you before escaping? How much damage could he do in a short amount of time? The idea has the taste of acid rising up your throat again. What does he have to gain out of this? What does he even want from you??

The blaring sirens grow too close, too loud for you to ignore. They must be right down the street. The man behind you is deathly still, which confirms your theory. You take in another deep breath. Now's your chance.

With as much strength as you can gather, you kick him and jerk your elbow into him at the same time. You don't know where your hit lands, but you feel the full force of the impact as you hit your mark. It's enough to hurt him—or, at the very least, stun him—and it has him loosening his grasp just enough for you to break free from him.

You run.

Stumbling blindly, you use all of your energy to focus on pushing forward and moving as far away from him as possible. Fingernails claw at the fabric over your eyes, but the knot is too tight to undo. You gasp with exertion, and another flash of panic rushes through you when you can't breathe in through the gag.

You tear at the fabric, nails nearly splintering from the effort, but the knot loosens and comes undone.

You’re about to gasp in relief when you're suddenly pushed to the ground. You yelp, turning onto your back, and though can't see him, you can feel your attacker above you. You don’t hesitate to kick in his direction, and even over the blaring sirens, you hear him cursing.

You pray the police see you, especially as he grabs one of your ankles and uses it as leverage against you. You’re about to twist your body and nail him with another kick from your free leg, but he catches that one too. And then the air is pushed from your lungs as the full weight of him pins you down, securing your legs so that you can't keep fighting him off.

You start using your hands instead.

He blocks your first hit, but on the second one, your fingers make contact with something hard—his mouthguard. With a burst of strength, you wrap your hands around it and rip it off of him—anything for some kind of distraction.

It works. With another curse, he releases your hand. You don't waste a second trying to tear your blindfold off again. But it's too tight—you don't have a chance, not while he's on top of you like this and your time is so, so very limited. The sirens are at their loudest; if you keep waiting, they'll drive away without noticing you.

You try to shove him off, but as soon as you make contact with the fabric of his hoody, both of his hands lock around your wrists in a death grip. You yelp at the flash of pain snipping your circulation, which is immediately overtaken by another pang of agony as he roughly snaps your arms above your head and traps you in place.

You realize, as you hear the police cars whipping down the street, that you only have one last chance at calling attention to yourself. And it suddenly clicks that your mouth is free, and both of his hands are busying themselves with yours, so he has no way of shutting you up.

Scream.

As soon as the idea comes to mind, you take in a breath. But in the brief millisecond it takes you to do so, it's like he realizes what you're planning to do. And just as you're about to scream like your life depends on it—because it probably does—something presses against your lips.

The pressure is soft and warm, with rough, chapped patches. The smell of blood and... something else, something unfamiliar fills your senses.

It, admittedly, takes you a moment to realize he's kissing you. He's kissing you to stop you from screaming. The realization stuns you.

You're too shocked to react. All you can do, it seems, is lie there and let him kiss you.

At the back of your mind, something begs for you to fight back. Push him, bite him, thrash beneath him—anything. A thousand different ways of freeing yourself come to mind, and yet, none surface.

Even as you hear the sirens rushing past, even as they begin to grow quieter and quieter in the growing distance, you just can't bring yourself to fight back.

His lips—your kidnapper's lips—never once part from yours. But despite the body heat, there's no warmth in the contact. It's just cold, calculated—heartless.

When silence falls over the streets, only then does he move. His mouth twitches into a relieved, self-satisfied smile against you. And that vile nausea twists at the pit of your stomach yet again.

You don't try to scream, even after he pulls away.

You hear him readjust what you could assume to be his mouthguard back over his face. And then your blindfold is ripped off.

The light is blinding. You have to blink the muddiness and confusion away. And then, as your sight returns, you find a pair of deep orange goggles staring down at you. Light from the sunset bathes him in a hazy glow like a halo of light, and from the perspective you have beneath him, he almost looks like an angel.

Your stomach lurches again, and you nearly puke.

Looking down at you, the man tilts his head, but doesn't say anything as he crams the makeshift blindfold into your mouth. It's tightened behind your head, tighter than he'd previously knotted it, and your pathetic attempts at stopping him are once again useless.

When he takes something out of his pocket, you can't help but flinch. His threat rings in your head, and you wonder if this is it, if this is the last thing you'll ever see; this masked stranger slitting your throat on a warm summer evening.

You'll die not even knowing why he wanted to kill you.

Relief, brief and fleeting as it may be, warms your chest when all he pulls out is a disposable flip phone.

He presses a button and, his sight never once leaving you, holds the device to his ear.

"...Yeah, I'm gonna need a pickup."

[vqmprxz]

ticci toby moodboard + hcs

toby’s playlist

(face claim: alexander arnold)

basics (in my au)

🪓 age: 19

🪓 nationality: german + italian

🪓 height: 5’6

interests, habits, etc

🪓 such an awkward and shy person it’s unreal

🪓 unintentionally funny. if he’s comfortable around you he just says what comes to mind and it just makes people giggle

🪓 chews an INSANE amount of gum to stop himself from literally eating his hands

🪓 was terrified of drugs before but tim and brian got him into smoking unfortunately

🪓 weirdly really good at singing. you couldn’t waterboard the words “i like to sing” out of him, but sometimes if you listen closely outside his room, he’s singing along softly to the nirvana song playing on his speakers

🪓 if he’s in modern day, hes the type of person to always have an airpod in one of his ears and tune everyone else out

“toby are you listening?”

“h-huh.”

🪓 always FREEZING. he can’t feel it of course but if anyone were to touch him they always gasp at how cold he is

🪓 crazy sleeper build. he looks skinny and frail but he can LIFT.

🪓 on the spectrum (autism, adhd, bipolar)

🪓 sometimes when he’s stuttering badly he just gives up and walks away and leaves people confused. (i do this.)

“c-can- can- can y- c-can you- f-fuck, nevermind”

“???”

relationships with others

🪓 i feel like he’s only really close with tim, brian, and kate. he’ll make small talk with the others but that’s about it.

🪓 liu has made it clear that toby can come to him whenever he needs and look at him as an older brother figure if he wants (BUT toby’s a little reluctant)

🪓 poor kid is always the target of jeff’s jokes. (jeff gave him the nickname “stutters” and “twitch” and toby threatened to behead him)

🪓 toby is the operator’s favorite proxy, he’s the least rebellious out of the four and uses that to piss them off

🪓 he really just keeps interaction to a minimum, i don’t know what else to say

a relationship with him

(sfw)

🪓 it takes a lot of time and trust to build up a relationship with toby, so if you’ve came that far then good job

🪓 he’s never been in a relationship before, too awkward and shy to ever make a move on anyone he was interested in

🪓 you’ll notice fast that he’s very clingy and needs constant reassurance, but you’re willing to give that to him

🪓 sometimes though, he’s snappy and cold and wants nothing to do with you (he’ll always cuddle up to you and apologize after one of those days though)

🪓 your dates usually consist of walking through the woods together, holding hands and just having deep conversations

🪓 he loves everything about you, even if he doesn’t know how to communicate it. silently admiring your features, mannerisms, and personality is one of his favorite things to do.

(nsfw)

🪓 VIRGIN before you. absolutely no experience. it took a lot of reassurance and “am i doing this right?”s, but he eventually learned exactly how to please you

🪓 puts on a front that he’s all tough and dominant until you guys actually do it. he’s whining and apologizing in between each thrust, he just can’t stop himself

🪓 doesn’t matter if you’re a girl or guy, he’ll BEG for you to be on top

🪓 tits guy 100%. no matter what size. needs them in his palms or in his mouth any chance he can get.

🪓 NEEDS praise. just wants to know that he’s making you feel good. (don’t degrade him he’s sensitive.)

🪓 loud. put your hand over this mfs mouth or people will be knocking on the door.

🪓 weirdly talented at oral (whether you’re a girl or guy). doesn’t have a gag reflex & can move his tongue fast.

[crushedsweets]

How do you think Toby got the name Ticci Toby, do you think it was given to him by bullies or like the press after he became a k!ller/proxy. Or both?

I think it started with bullies when he was in elementary school, and when the press began interviewing people in their town, the name came back

I Imagine when he heard it making rounds again he was hella mad cuz like. Seriously. They have his full name they’re just being dicks

I don’t think he gets called ticci toby much nowadays, if at all…again, his full name was released very quickly after his dads murder, so that’s what people used

He’s definitely not parading it around like a title he’s proud of, but i don’t believe hearing the name holds some deep traumatic feelings and stress. Irks him a lot. If someone like Jeff were to call him that, he would start a fight. If someone like clocky did, he’d just tell her to knock it off cuz it’s not funny

[the-s1lly-corner]

could I request creepypasta x reader who can take their head off

Various crps x reader who can take their head off

pretending that i didnt tear up the roof of my mouth while eating my dinner shhhshhhh ignoring that my bottom front teeth rest on the roof of my mouth right where its all torn up thus making me hyperaware and by extension making me clench and grind subconsciously characters: jeff the killer, laughing jack, ticci toby, eyeless jack notes: reader is gn, reader isnt really human but theyre written to look human, focusing on first reactions cws: none unless you found taking ones head off as body horror? does it count? im not sure tbh.. mentions of anatomy and stuff in ejs part.. canon typical violence

LAUGHING JACK

finds it so cool, entertaining even... i like to think that he has "clown physics" to him, but im unsure if being able to dethatch limbs would be one... if he cant take his own head off hes going to be a tad bit jealous of you

sometimes yoinks your head and holds it up to his height so you can "see the world from his perspective", this is more likely if youre significantly shorter than him

if you allow it hes going to juggle your head or even "go bowling" with it... you... may get dizzy though, so agree with caution

if your head is loose and has a habit of falling off hes going to take it as a win if it falls as you laugh at one of his jokes

EYELESS JACK

honestly? not all that phased by your little party trick, at least hes not grossed out by the clear view of your necks insides- hes seen those plenty of times... both in the form of images as well as in person when hes needed to silence someone

that said looking at in tact neat remains is different than seeing it all messed up or in a diagram, so if you dont mind he would like to take a look at least once... totally not making notes for future reference

not many questions otherwise, surprisingly... i mean hes a man eating demon of sorts who mostly gets nutrients from eating the organs of humans- he doesnt have much place to ask you what you are exactly or what caused this sort of thing to happen

doesnt ask you to show off your trick, finds no interest in asking you to take your head off and goof off with it unlike some of the others

TICCI TOBY

oh! thats his partner taking off their head.... OH! THATS HIS PARTNER TAKING OFF THEIR HEAD- he... genuinely needs a second to process what hes looking at because it catches him so off guard, you only told him you had a party trick to show him

lots of questions, main one being how and why- were you not a living human this whole time? a little betrayed that you didnt tell him sooner, actually- and even if you did, why didnt you show him this sooner?

traces his fingers along your neck where it separates, after you put your head back on- even more impressed if theres no mark left behind

like jeff, hes going to try to get you to play some jokes on people- though its likely hes going to pull them on masky and/or hoodie

sometimes carries your head around with him while hes working- ignore how morbid of a sight thatd be..! he just wants some company without making it too obvious!

JEFF THE KILLER

stares wide eyed for a few seconds... ignoring that he doesnt have his eye lids anymore so hes always looking at you wide eyed-- thinks he may have actually lost it for a second before cracking up

probably one of the last things hes expected you to do but hey, he thinks its pretty wicked!

oh hes definitely going to try to get you to use your quirk to scare some unsuspecting people who are walking around- perhaps do it late at night for some added effect? and if they lash out he can always swoop in and come to your aid

will push your head off of your neck if youre being a smartass or generally lightly getting onto his nerves- not a hard push, but enough to knock your head loose

[partytillicry]

Ticci toby x Reader // fem reader

these are general dating and nsfw hc’s so beware!!

TW’s: fighting, slight angst, reader is friends with Nina the Killer, & smut

AN: i love toby sm, he’s def my fav creep. this one is a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂. btw this is half reread so there maybe some mistakes here and there

SFW

toby’s bipolar so a relationship with him is hard but you both work your way through it

he never wants to fight but he can’t control it sometimes

he truly does love but it happens

most of your fights are because he gets jealous or he is just upset about something else

you were laying in bed, just mindlessly scrolling on your phone. reading something that you’d forget a minute later. you were broken from your trance when you heard the door open to see your boyfriend walk in. no hi or hello so you knew something was up.

you immediately got up and walked over to him as Toby was taking off his hoodie and mask. you reached over to his hand to hold it and Toby slapped it away.

“are… you okay? you can talk to me, ya know.” you ask him concerned

“get the fuck away from me.” Toby said firmly. your eyes widened, stepping back and giving him some space. you already knew what was gonna happen next so you just decided to leave

“where the fuck are you going? what? think i’m gonna hurt you or or or or or something? cause i’m ssssssssooOoooOo f-f-f-fucked up?!” Toby yelled. all you did was grab your phone and walk out then booking it to Nina’s room

thats how most of you fights go, he never tries to get physical but it can happen

he apologizes like crazy after, usually with tears cuz he thinks you’ll leave him

and because he’s so nervous and scared, his tic’s are going off like crazy

with all his stuttering, random phrases and sobbing, he’s very hard to understand

you sat on Nina’s floor of her room as she brushed and played with your hair while you talked about what happened. you knew everything would be okay but you were just worried about Toby. you were thinking about asking Slender to lay off on the missions for a while

“look, babes, i know you’re worried about him but you should be worried about yourself too!! how many more fights can you take?” Nina spoke worrying.

“we really don’t fight a lot!! and plus we only do when he’s upset, i know he doesn’t actually want to fight!! you just don’t see how he is after.” you said firmly. it felt weird to defend him but you knew that he wasn’t actually pissed at you

Nina sighs as you pass her a hair tie and she finishes off your braid. you both hear a knock on the door, immediately knowing who it is. you glance back at Nina and she gets up to open the door.

“well hello Toby, i’ve been waiting” Nina says. “you better give her a good apology.” she says firmly but quietly as she walked out. Toby walked in and sat on the floor next to you. you both sat in silence for about a minute.

“i’m so sssSsSsorry, i’m truly sorry. i shouldn’t h-h-have done t-t-that, i had no reason to be maDDd aaaaatt you.” Toby finally spoke up, immediately starting to sob. you sighed, smiling.

“oh baby, im not mad. i know you don’t actually wanna fight.” you said softly. he looked over to you, tears streaming down his dirty face. you cupped his face a wiped away what you could, pulling him into you closer.

“what do you say we hop in the shower, your still covered in dirt and blood.” you said chuckling. all the boy could was nod.

on a happier note! other than the once in a while fights, Toby is actually very sweet but he can get possessive

he’s only somewhat controlling. he doesn’t really like the idea of you belonging to him but you are his

if that even makes sense 😭

he will call stuff like “mine, my love, my baby” etc etc

he’ll let you go out in revealing clothes but he has to be near you at all times

you and Toby were walking around the outside of the mansion (slender wouldn’t you guys leave). you were wearing almost booty shorts and an off the shoulder band tee. Toby thought you looked so cute, he was obsessed with your outfit.

you guys were just holding hands and talking about whatever, Toby leaving an occasional kissing on your hand here and there. it wasn’t that hot out this morning, it was nice. not much wind either. all of the sudden, Toby stopped walking

“what? what happened?” you asked confused. no answer but he let go of your hand and walked up to the corner you guys were about to turn. peeking his head around the corner like a cat only to see Jeff the killer practicing with his knives.

he immediately takes off his hoodie and wraps it around your hips, leaving him with a wifebeater and a pair of baggy cargo shorts on. instead of taking your hand this time, he grabs for your waist

he then starts walking, you following in his lead. you glance over at Jeff then back to Toby and right there, you immediately figured out what was happening. and you couldn’t lie, it was kinda sweet

he’s got a lot of respect for you, and women just in general

like what do you mean you go through horrible pain and bleeding once a month but still have to deal with sexism?

it doesn’t add up for him

he’s always had a respect for women because of his mother and sister being the only reason he actually survived his childhood

he’s always trying to break the gender roles in your relationship

“ no, i can cook today. no, you should be on top. no, im not calling you my bitch. no, ill never call you a bitch.”

he HATES when people call their partner “my bitch” or anything like that

moving on!

bros a cuddle bug

all up and on you whenever and wherever

PDA is his personal favorite

Toby’s top 5 favorite ways to cuddle!:

5: you laying on your stomach while Toby sits on your ass or back

4: him laying on top of you

3: standard spooning (preferably you being little spoon)

2: sitting on your lap or the over way around

1: honeymoon cuddle, which means sleeping sideways and trying to get as close together as possible

it was a pretty busy day at the mansion and Slender had given you chores all day while most of the others were out killing. most of the proxy’s got night missions, which means Toby would be back pretty late. you wanted to be up when he came back so you picked up a book and began to read it.

it was around 11:48pm when Toby came back. he walked into your room to take off his shoes, mask, hoodie, goggles, and leave his axe too. he quickly ran over to you with a heavy breath

you looked up from your book and stared into the boys dark brown eyes. he kissed you passionately, almost starting a makeout session with you. his hands cupped your face as he started kissing you faster. but then he pulled away

“oh g-g-god, i’ve been waiting for that all day. i’m gonna gooOoo showEr, kay? i love you and ill be right back” Toby explained before leaving one more quick kiss on your cheek

when Toby came back and changed into his pjs, he immediately crawled into your arms. he was sat in your lap and was definitely more important than that book you were reading before. you started to rub small circles into his back

“oh love, i’ve been a bit worried about you. i swear, slender needs to stop sending you on these night missions before i get a heart attack.” you said, pressing small kisses onto his face here and there

“babe, i know you don’t like them and believe me, i don’t ether. but please just trust me, ill be okay. i mean slender has sent me on a mission that lasted a week before and i have no doubt it will happen again. these missions are like nothing to me.” the boy reassured you

you smiled, kissing his cold lips passionately. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. his hands immediately went to your waist, sliding up and down slowly. lets just say you guys made out for the rest of the night

NSFW

this man is a FREAK.

he always makes sure you’re satisfied, you are his top priority

he wants to hold your tits during sex. not grab but just touch ‘em

he loves to involve your tits with the sex. cuming on them, sucking them, playing with them, etc

sucking on them? what kinda freaky shit is this?

he will go CRAZY if you let him suck your tits

toby laid on top of you while pressing small kisses and hickeys on your neck. he wanted to go a little further so the boy let his hands go up your tank top. his brown eyes lock with yours, asking for permission to take off the small piece of clothing

you nodded, cold air immediately hitting your hard nipples. all toby could do was look in awe. his mouth immediately crashed onto your soft boob. kissing and licking around your nipples, little whimpers and whines leaving your mouth

“uh c-C-can i suck them..?”

you nodded and he moved on your sensitive nipples. licking and taking your breast into his mouth the best he could. Toby loved to see you all whiney and overstimulated under him. you could feel him getting harder

he’s pretty average when it comes to size but boy, he knows what he’s doing

toby had an insane porn addiction before you both met and omg, he watched everything

because of that, he will try anything and know how to do it

wanna peg him? he’s already bought the stuff. wanna have buttsex? he’s got lube. want him to eat ur ass? so down and ready.

honestly though, toby loves to just fuck like normal. doggy and cowgirl are his favorites.

“you sure your ready?” toby said teasingly.

“god, Tob’s, just fuck me already”

after what felt like forever, toby slowly slipped his dick into your dripping wet cunt. he groaned as your eyes fluttered closed. his cold, dirty hands began to feel around your thighs as he held you up.

“okay love, im gonna move” you rolled your eyes. his pace started out slow but hard. after a while of fucking once a week, toby knew exactly were all your g spots were. he would tease you a bit by almost hitting it and then hitting it.

you moaned and begged for toby to sped up but he kept his pace. it was slow and painful but god it felt so good. he started to speed up slowly. you moaned and groaned, only making him go faster and faster

he love love lovessss to go at it for hours but only if you’re up to it

and ONLY if you want too

“consent is sexy baby” -toby 2024

he wants to see you begging on your knees for more

on average, you guys are having 3-8 rounds everytime

cum stained sheets just turn him on more

heavy breathing fills the room, toby laying on top of you. his hands rubbed your stomach while his throbbing member was still inside you. as you felt it pulsing, it only turned you on more and more. 

“…hah…b-bAby, do you wanna go again?” the boy said as he pulled out. his hand now rested on your face as him thumb trailed across your cheek.

“fuck yeah.” you sighed out with a smile. toby smiled, quickly grabbing your waist and thrusting back in. a sharp moan escapes your lips while toby grunts

hardcore aftercare everytime

“are you okay? did i hurt you? was it good? are you in pain? do you need anything? do you want anything? do you wanna your put clothes back on? do you want my clothes back on?”

so. many. questions.

he just loves you and doesn’t ever wanna hurt you

he WILL cook you a full course meal. i mean, it won’t taste good but hey its the thought that counts

you moan loudly, coming down from your high. you immediately collapse on top of him while sliding him out of you. chest to chest, your breathing intertwine’s and your body becomes one with his.

“oh baby i love you but i’m done” you say sleepily. your hands run through his dirty, brown hair.

“that-tha-thats okay!! are you alright?” toby says concerned.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just uh tired” you reassured him, still playing with his hair a bit.

he started to rub your back in small circles, kissing your forehead ever so gently. your hands let go of his hair, wrapping your arms around toby’s neck, pulling yourself into him even closer. he breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.

“oh i love you my darling, a-AAnd not just for sex. your so much more than that, *we’re* so much more than that. of course i-i-i love your body and the way you moan and and and everything else. but i love all of you.” toby said lovingly

[sister-lucifer]

An Epoch of Horticulture: Chapter One

[Masterlist] 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

Genre: Slow burn, fluff 

Summary: An odd figure slinks into your apothecary on a rainy day 

Content/warnings: Profanity, a bit of awkward conversation, my personal headcanons about Toby + his disabilities, I made up some magic fantasy plants for this so don’t think too hard about it, thankies 

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you like this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.  

The rain has been falling nonstop since dawn. Not once has the endless patter of water on the roof of your apothecary ceased, or even slowed. Now and then you glance out the window at the stubborn clouds, willing them to move, but they refuse. 

You’ve busied yourself with menial tasks today; scrubbing the counter, reorganizing your tools, alphabetizing your seeds. Despite your silent hope, though, not one customer has come through. Bad weather means no foot traffic—you know that, but it’s still a fair bit disappointing. For the fifth time today, you debate closing up shop early. You can’t help feeling a bit dejected. It’s not easy running a small business like this, and every sale matters. 

Your little apothecary is quaint, but you’ve poured your heart and soul into making it exactly to your vision. On the front of the building is your hand-painted sign, the name “The Zenith” proudly proclaimed in a perfect forest green, and by the door sits your rainwater catchers. Inside, you’ve stacked the shelves full of anything that can be potted, and racks for drying herbs and flowers hang on either side of the shop. Behind your counter, on the furthest wall, are locked cabinets for keeping the more expensive wares, and you even have your own greenhouse through the back door. This place means so much to you—seeing it so empty is disheartening. 

You heave a heavy sigh as you trudge to the door, deciding to just give up for today. The rain shows no signs of stopping, and that means no one will be coming in. You can always try again tomorrow, right? 

You reach up to turn the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’ Just as your fingers touch the wood, though, you pause. An odd sound has caught your attention. You only recognize it as the sound of frantic footsteps on the wet cobblestone for a split second. 

In a flash, a dark figure appears from out of the gloom. You barely manage to move out of the way before the door swings open. You almost wince, worried it may come off the hinges, or perhaps knock the bell off its hook. 

A tall man rushes in, stumbling like a fawn on ice and nearly getting a bit too friendly with the ground. You watch him gain his bearings, not taking your eyes off him as you quickly shut the door back. He huffs as if he can’t catch his breath. 

Your eyes slowly scan him from the bottom up as you try to discern if you’ve seen him before. His thick, leather boots are clearly worn from use, and caked in mud that’s left a filthy trail on your floor. His baggy work pants are equally weathered, with patches of scrap fabric messily stitched on in random places. He wears a navy windbreaker half zipped over a ratty, brown hoodie, and when your gaze gets to the edge of his sleeve you can see that he’s wearing gloves. He pulls his hood down off his head—good heavens, he’s paler than death—and shakes out a curly thatch of brunette hair. You could liken him to a big dog shaking off its coat. 

He turns to face you, boots squelching in the small puddle he’s created around his feet. The bandage on his cheek crinkles as his face stretches with a crooked smile. Your attention is momentarily drawn to the one chipped tooth he keeps running his tongue over. 

“Not ex-exactly the bess-ss-t day to be— b-be—bop! Bopop!—out and about, h-huh— huh?” he says with a chuckle, followed by several clicks of his tongue in an odd rhythm. You nod in agreement, still a bit too startled by his sudden entrance to reply. One of his hazel eyes scans the shelves with curiosity; the other, you notice, struggles to follow it. 

After a second more of silence, you snap out of your surprise. 

“Oh, let me take your coat,” you say quickly, reaching up to take the windbreaker off him. He happily complies, pulling the striped sleeves of his hoodie free from the jacket. It continues to drip as you hook it on the rack. You make a mental note to do some good mopping later. 

You turn back to your guest, only to find him on the other side of the room. He’s crouched in front of a pot of sour brandy, eyeing it intensely. He leans in to sniff the opening of the pitcher-like flower. 

“You don’t wanna do that!” You call out, but you aren’t fast enough. He winces and groans in disgust, rising to his feet so fast he nearly falls. You have to choke back a laugh. 

“Sorry,” you say with a barely disguised giggle, “you might wanna avoid smelling random plants in here. That’s sour brandy.” 

You pick up a pamphlet from your counter and hold it out to him. 

“It’s known for its incredibly acerbic taste, and is usually used to, uh…expel irritants from the stomach. Here—this will tell you everything you need to know about that sort of thing.” 

He huffs, like he’s trying to push the smell out of his nose. He takes the pamphlet from you, but only flips through it for a few seconds before folding it in two and shoving it into his pocket. Well, okay then… 

“…Um, anyways,” you continue as you move behind your counter, “welcome to The Zenith. What can I get for you today?” 

He only stares back at you like you’ve just spoken another language. You’re about to repeat yourself when you’re interrupted by a sudden jerking of his neck. It pops in a way that surely must be painful, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Just a ss-second,” he replies, holding up one hand while the other pats around his pockets. One side of his face twitches as he digs into his hoodie. After a bit of searching, he pulls out a slip of paper, unfolding it and pushing it across the table towards you with a shaky hand. 

Some ink comes off on your fingers as you pick it up. The words are a bit smudged with raindrops, but it’s readable enough, even with the pompous cursive handwriting. You nearly scoff as you scan the list of plant names; it’s all high-end herbs and rare flowers, even a few species you need certain credentials to own. Fortunately, you do. 

“Looks like someone’s planning a party,” you comment absentmindedly. You rifle through the keys on your belt for a moment before grabbing the one you’re looking for. 

“Oh, uh, it-it’s not for me,” the man explains, suddenly looking sheepish as he watches you unlock one of the cabinets on the back wall of the store, “my, uh, mm-m-my bosses have—click! Clickick-ick! Fuck off!—h-have this big…thing—I dunno what it is, really—going on this-ss-s weekend.” 

You give a hum of acknowledgment without looking away from what you’re doing. Briefly, you run your eyes over the various pouches of herbs sitting on the cabinet shelves, then look back down at the list. You grab each bag one by one as you read the names. 

Sailor’s red, sunflick, vylar…they better know what the hell they’re doing. 

You let out a low whistle as you close up the cabinet. Talk about crazy rich people. This mix of stuff could lay you out flat for days. The man seems to notice your expression. 

“W-What’s wrong?” he stammers with a tilt of his head. 

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” you reply with a shrug, “just, uh, this stuff is more intense than I usually go for.  I sure hope your bosses know how to prepare this sort of thing, you can’t just be throwing this into your salad…” 

He laughs—it’s a scratchy sort of warble, and it makes you grin in return. He reaches up to itch the back of his neck, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. 

You drop the pouches onto the counter before moving on to the next part of your list, and to one of your shelves. While you’ve several attractive flowering plants, you notice that the types requested are quite renowned for their beautiful blooms, and all in white and yellow. You also notice, though, that many of them are incredibly high maintenance, and will die within the week if not attended to with utmost care. 

For some reason, it’s a bit hard to conjure a flattering image of these people. 

You’re almost hesitant to let your darlings go when you know in your heart they won’t be properly loved. 

Despite your woes, you gather the pots all the same. When you turn to walk back to your counter, you catch eyes with the man for a split second. He nearly jumps out of his skin before quickly putting his head down and pretending to be very interested in his shoes. 

You’re not quite sure how that makes you feel. You brush it off for now, deciding it probably isn’t all that significant; he’s a rather awkward one, after all. 

You set the flowers down on the counter, then look back at the list. The last few items aren’t kept in the front of the shop. 

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” you tell the man with a polite smile, “I need to grab a few things out of the greenhouse for you.” 

“Huh?” he barks. He was looking right at you, but it seems he wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Uh, yeah, that—th-that’s okay,” he adds quickly, a few of his knuckles popping as they flex in an unnatural manner. He shoves his hands in his pockets and lets his eyes wander idly about the store. 

As you make your way back into the greenhouse, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind starts to bloom. The tall stranger has definitely caught your attention. He couldn’t be any older than 25, but he looks worked to the bone. Despite that, you think as you pluck a few fruits from a caerulem tree, he’s got the charm of an awkward teenager. He shambles about like his body is new, or perhaps like three raccoons pretending to be a person. The idea amuses you more than you’d like to admit. 

When you return to the shop, bag of assorted fruits in hand, the man has already found something else to be interested in. He’s gingerly toying with the cap of a spongy mushroom, occasionally glancing at the pamphlet you gave him earlier. Cross-referencing, presumably. He looks up like a deer in headlights when he hears you drop the bag on the counter. 

He shoves the pamphlet back into his pocket with even less care than last time before rushing over to you like an excited child. He puts his palms flat on the counter, leaning forward a bit more than is usually socially acceptable. 

“Didja get it?” he asks, lazy eye twitching and scrunching a bit. 

“Yessir,” you reply with a quick nod and wide eyes. He seems to realize he’s overstepped a bit, and pushes back. 

He starts searching around in his pockets again.

“So, uh, h-how much will—dammit! Goddammit!—will th-th-that be?” 

You take a moment to count up everything on the counter. It’s quite the haul, that’s for sure. Good news for you. 

“…An even 80,” you declare. 

He swiftly pulls something from his pocket and smacks it into the table. When he moves his hand away, you can see it’s a drawn note for…two hundred? 

You resist the urge to groan in frustration. You begrudgingly open your register to retrieve the man’s change, but he stops you. 

“T-They said to just let— l-let you keep the cheque!” he sputters as quickly as he can. 

That makes you quirk a brow. 

“Um…are you sure?” you ask, “This is over double what this stuff is worth.” 

The man shrugs and kicks at the ground. “They do that s-ss-sort of thing all th-the—shrrrk!—all the time. ‘s not like they can’t aff-aff-afford it, ‘n’ they wanna make sure the—t-the—go away! Go away!—make sure the sh-shhh-shopkeepers like them.” 

A beat of silence passes as you mull that over. 

“…I sh-shhhouldn’t have said that,” the man mumbles. His lips quirk up in an awkward grin. Of course, you naturally return the gesture, and mime zipping your lips. You could swear it makes his restless shoulders relax a bit. 

You put the cheque away before reaching for one of the pots. Just as you pick it up, the man’s hands come down on yours and hold them still. 

“Woah, hold on, w-what-what are you doing?” 

You stutter, not sure how to answer. 

“Uh…I was just gonna help you carry some of these. You walked here, right? Can’t be that far. Besides, it’s not like anyone else is gonna be coming in with this weather.”

He shakes his head vehemently, pulling the flower away from you. 

“No way, I-I got this-ss-s,” he insists with an admirable amount of confidence. 

You open your mouth to protest, but you’re too impressed by the display that follows to speak. You’re not sure how, but he manages to scoop everything up into his arms. You nearly jump over the counter just in case he falls. He’s like a tower of blocks struggling to keep its balance. 

By some miracle, he manages, and before you know it he’s headed to the door. You go to open it for him, but don’t get the chance. He lifts a boot and hooks it under the horizontal door handle to pull it open. You hold it open for him, but only really to feign helpfulness as he sprints out into the rain. 

“Have a good day!�� you call, and he gives a reply you can’t understand through the rain. He quickly disappears into the gloom. 

You step back inside, alone in your shop once more.  

“…Nice guy,” you mutter to yourself. You turn to head back to your counter, but something catches your eye: 

His windbreaker is still hanging on the rack! 

Frantically pulling it from the hook, you rush out into the rain without thinking. You call out to nothing as you run in the direction you think he went, realizing you never got his name. There’s no sound but the rain on the concrete. 

You slow to a stop when it becomes clear your efforts are for naught.  

You look down at the jacket, watching as the rain rolls off of it. Briefly, you debate still running after him, but think better of it. Even if you did find him, he’d probably be weirded out that a stranger chased him down over a windbreaker. 

Well, you can’t stand in the rain forever. You sigh as you turn back around to head back to the shop. 

Surely, he’ll be back…right?

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you liked this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

Don’t Run - Alpha! Ticci Toby x Omega! Female Reader NFSW

Warnings: omegaverse (so lowkey dubcon depending on how you look at it)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Heat cycles, Soulmates, Fingering, Semi-clothed sex, Breeding, Creampie, german dirty talk

Words: 2.5k

Summary: After wandering into the woods you find yourself being hunted down by a psycho with hatchets. You could only pray to god he wasn’t an alpha, or then you’d really be in for it.

As always

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ all canon will be flexible to make way for sexy˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Like I really don’t see much omegaverse content for this fandom and so I will become the change I want to see. Also I just want to see Toby acting feral cuz I need him like waterrrrrr

Run. Run. Run.

That’s what your brain was screaming at you as your feet pounded the ground. Your lungs and muscles burned, but you couldn’t stop. He was still close.

A low whirring sound caught your attention, causing you to duck right before you heard the loud thwack of his hatchet getting stuck in the tree above you.

You heard him laugh as you didn’t waste a second getting back up, continuing to run. “That was a -fuck- good one. Too close though.” He called, his body twitching in unnatural ways.

This fucker was hunting you for sport. What did you do to provoke this? Nothing really, except be in the wrong place at the wrong time you guessed.

Well maybe following a stray cat into the woods.

That’ll do it.

That’s what’ll get some weirdo with hatchets chasing you through the woods.

It’s not even dark yet!

The sun was setting but you still had some daylight left. You definitely needed to get away from this psycho before it went dark. If not, there’s no way you’d stand a chance.

If you could just find somewhere to hide, maybe, maybe you could make it out alive. He was just too fast. He wasn’t even trying that hard to catch you, more so just playing the cat and mouse game with you.

Treating me like I’m goddamn prey or something!

Hopefully, it wasn’t because you were an omega, not that he should be able to tell anyways. Back in fucking prehistoric times hunting down omegas might’ve been acceptable but we have society now! You just prayed to god he was just a freak and not a freak who’s also an alpha.

Another hatchet flew your way, this time nearly grazing you.

What the fuck?!?!

Your only saving grace right now was that each time he did that he had to stop and pull it back out of the tree.

Wait… exactly.

You ran up to the tree, yanking on the hatchet as hard as you could. You almost fell backward once it finally came loose. Right in time too, because when you turned around there he was.

Now that he was a bit closer, you could make out a little more of his appearance. He had messy brown hair with an orange pair of goggles on top. Some type of… weird muzzle looking mask covered the bottom half of his face, but you could see his dark eyes locked onto you.

You didn’t take more than a split second to look at him, chucking the hatchet in his direction. He didn’t even try to dodge it. He only looked slightly shocked as it cut his arm, grazing the side and cutting his striped hoodie sleeve, but otherwise didn’t flinch.

Fuck! My aim is terrible!

He turned his eyes away from his arm and back up to you, narrowing them at you.

Fuck! I definitely just pissed him off too!

You immediately turned the other way and started to run, only to be harshly jerked out of your stride. He slammed your body against a tree, knocking the wind out of you.

His demeanor had shifted, no longer laughing and treating this like a game. His mood seemed almost… dark. “Why are you running, huh?” He gripped your face hard and your throat harder. You could feel his breath on your face, that’s how close he was. “Why are you running from me, huh?” A sick laugh followed his words.

You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, he was cutting off your air supply. You tried to scratch at his hands, your attempts doing nothing to stop him. You couldn’t even affect him, failing to even elicit any kind of reaction from him. He pulled off his mask, revealing a huge gash beneath it. It took up a good portion of his cheek and it was deep. You could see all the way through to his teeth. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell so good.”

Well fuck…

When he pulled back to look at your face you mustered the most hateful look you could, since you couldn’t scream at him like you wanted to.

“Ahh, that’s good.” He got a huge grin on his face, easing up on your neck. It seemed he was just eating up your reactions, which only pissed you off more.

He let go of your neck to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head with just one hand. Your attacks weren’t doing much anyways, but fuck, he was stronger than he looked.

“So feisty.” His neck jerked when he talked. “I thought omegas were -fuck- supposed to be docile.”

Ohhhh he did not just go there.

“And I thought alphas were supposed to be perfect and good at everything, not twitchy fucking freaks!” You spat at him, as hatefully as you could. At this point you didn’t even need to question if he was an alpha or not. You could smell it on him. It was overwhelming your senses.

He started laughing at that, his body twitching and jerking. “I’m fucking freaky, huh?” He leaned back in, deeply inhaling your scent again. He tilted your chin up with his free hand, his eyes already looked dazed, drunk off your scent. “I’m still about to make you my bitch.”

Seeing that look in his eye sent electricity straight down to your cunt. You could already feel wetness pooling in your panties. Warmth engulfed your body, making you feel weak and needy.

He let go of your wrists, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling your whole body against his. You let out a gasp, starting to pant in his arms.

“Already giving in? C’mon at least make this a little interesting for me.” He chuckled before leaning down and capturing your lips.

He kissed you roughly, immediately shoving his tongue in your mouth. You were quickly losing any will to resist him. His invasion of your mouth felt so good and you were loving the taste of him.

There was no reason you should be feeling like this. You’d taken all your suppressants. You’d never missed a dose. Nothing would just make your heat start like this out of nowhere except-

Oh god…. No way. Absolutely not.

He couldn’t be.

“Nn…” you pressed your body against his, your hands gripping his biceps. He pressed his knee in between your thighs, pressing against your cunt.

You moaned into his mouth, instantly rutting your hips against his thigh. It was like his scent had consumed you. He was the only thing you could think of.

He finally relinquished your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. You could hear how heavily he was breathing, just like you. He was just as affected by you as you were by him.

He moved down to your neck, licking a stripe up it, a low growl escaping him. For a split second you thought he was going to bite you, but then he just sucked on the skin, making a dark mark. For a second, you were a bit disappointed that he hadn’t.

Wait, no way!

There was no way he was your soulmate. You didn’t want him to be. It just wasn’t happening.

So why did you want him to bite you so badly? Why did that feel right? Why were you just disappointed when he didn’t claim you?

He let up on your neck after leaving a plethora of marks. He was claiming you without really claiming you. For some reason that was painstakingly frustrating.

He was panting loudly in your ear, slipping his hand under your skirt and straight into your panties. He let out a groan when he felt how much of your arousal had already collected in your panties.

“Ah, fuck.” He grit out. “I need you so badly.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine. He pushed his hands under your shirt, pushing the fabric up. “Get this off before I rip it off.” He commanded, pulling it up as you lifted your arms up.

The sun had set at this point, the air growing colder. Even still, your body was burning up. His hands were all over you, feeling the newly exposed skin. He was rutting his hips up against you, making you very aware of his bulge.

Your knees went weak, and you could barely hold yourself up anymore. He slipped his hand into your panties again, using his arm around your waist and the tree behind to hold you up.

He slid his fingers through your folds, allowing your sticky arousal to collect on his digits before sliding them into you. A more guttural sounding growl erupted from his throat as he pushed them all the way inside without resistance. His face was buried in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as he started to fuck you with his fingers.

“So tight…” he groaned. “Can’t wait to breed your little cunt.”

You were no longer on this astral plane. Your cunt was buzzing with pleasure each time his fingers rutted into you. You pressed your thighs together, unable to handle the feeling.

He shoved your leg out of the way with his thigh. “Mm, c’mon pretty girl, keep it open for me.” He pushed his fingers deep, his palm pressing against your clit with each stroke of his fingers.

It was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. It was satiating you, for now, but you still desired so much more.

“Please… I need… more.” You whined.

“Shh, I know, pretty girl.” He hummed into your neck. “Just let me take care of you.”

He moved up to let you bury your face in his neck. You gripped onto his collar, pulling his neck closer as you deeply took in his scent. It was so addicting, only making you feel more euphoric.

You felt completely enraptured by him: the feeling of his strong hands that held you up, the sound of his panting in your ear, and his scent that you couldn’t get enough of.

His fingers made obscene gushing sounds every time he pushed them deep into your cunt. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. At this point you were moaning unabashedly into his neck, your voice getting whinier and whiner, his fingers making you feel so good.

The feeling kept building and building, the tension in your stomach growing to heights you’d never experienced before. You finally broke, your cunt squeezing his fingers hard.

“That’s it, come for me.” He cooed, still pressing his fingers into your convulsing cunt.

For the first time in your life you understood it. Why omegas paired with alphas. You’d only just found him, and yet there was such a strong compelling force drawing you to him. You already couldn’t imagine life without him. Once you’d experienced this you could never go back.

Even as you were coming down, you still needed more. You wanted so badly for him to take you, to claim you and never part with you. “I need you.” You admitted quietly, not really worried about the embarrassment anymore.

He grabbed your body, pushing you down to the ground as gently as possible, his body over yours. “Don’t say things like that. You’re getting me too riled up.”

You could recognize the look in his eye as pure want. The desire to possess you somehow being communicated to you without him saying anything.

He quickly unbuckled his belt, not even bothering to pull it all the way off. He rushed to push down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. It was already rock hard, the tip was a little red and leaking precum.

Your skirt had already ridden up from the previous activities, giving him easy access. He roughly gripped your hips, pulling you towards him and shoving your panties to the side. You grabbed onto him, bracing yourself as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He couldn’t control it anymore. His insticts were screaming at him to breed you. He shoved himself into you all the way to the hilt, eliciting loud moans of pleasure from you.

He started a brutal pace, pumping into like his life depended on it. He lifted his shirt up, holding it up with his teeth to keep it out of the way.

“God you feel so good wrapped around my cock…” he gritted through his teeth. “Such a perfect little cockslut.”

His words were only turning you on more, your back arched off the ground and you wrapped your legs around him tight, needing to keep him inside of you.

Everything about this felt so primal. Probably because it was. He was fucking you right on the ground, grunting and growling into your ear, with the intent of breeding you. Your cunt was gushing with each thrust, his cock hitting all the right places in you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came hard around his cock.

He let out another growl as you came around him. He pushed himself up on his hands, still driving his cock into you. His eyes were completely dazed, he looked almost feral, like his body was moving on pure instinct. “Du bist einfach zu verdammt süß...Ich kann nicht wiederstehen... Ich will dich so sehr.”

His voice dropped lower, taking on a husky tone. “Und du wirst mir gehören, auch wenn ich alles tun muss, um dich zu brechen, mein Mädchen.”

You couldn’t even understand what he said, but you knew you wanted it. He was your everything now. Whatever he wanted for you, you wanted it.

“Please…” you whined, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to him.

He leaned down to your neck once more, inhaling your scent deeply before baring his teeth, taking a deep bite into your unclaimed neck. The feeling of him claiming you was so euphoric, eliciting another explosive orgasm around his throbbing cock.

He moved one of his hands to press over your stomach, holding himself up with the other. “Du wirst mit meinem Kind so perfekt aussehen, mein Mädchen.” He moaned, feeling your cunt convulse around him, your legs wrapped around him tighter than ever. “Das wirst du mir geben, nicht wahr?”

You understood what he was asking, despite not knowing a single word he said. “Please…” you whined, nodding.

“You want it, huh?” He asked. “You wanna have my babies? You want me to breed your cunt?”

“Please…! Please, come inside me.” You begged, already feeling dizzy off the thought of him breeding you.

“Fuck… you’re gonna look so good swollen with my kid.” He groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic, chasing the feeling of his oncoming orgasm. “Gonna come inside your pretty little cunt. Gonna… fuck… claim you.” His voice cracked. He buried his face in your neck again, biting down as you felt his hot cum flood your cunt.

You both panted hard, exhausted and your minds still fuzzy from the pleasure. He leaned up on his elbows to look at your face, cupping it in his hands.

“Wow, you really are -fuck- a pretty little thing. Lucky me.” He said lazily.

You looked into his eyes, finally having a chance to really study his features. You really weren’t sure what you had just gotten yourself into, but it was all fated to happen… so it must be right.

At least you hoped so.

I hope you guys enjoyed!!!

~pls remember to distinguish fiction from reality

[astupidweeb69]

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.