an-3moia

[an-3moia]

It's been kind of stormy (like flash floods and tornado warnings kind) where I'm at and so I was wondering how you HC Toby, Jeff, Tim, etc during one of those huge (and scary) thunderstorms?

Ahh! Stay safe!!

── .✦

✦ . jeff the killer

Thrives in the chaos.

Jeff is unbothered by the storm—actually, he kind of loves it. The power outages, the flickering lightning, the chance to wander outside when everyone else is hiding? That’s his kind of night.

He might disappear during the worst of it just to roam around and “enjoy the ambience,” but if you’re scared, he’ll post up on the couch with you, arms thrown behind his head, acting all nonchalant.

“What? It’s just rain. Chill. Unless you want me to tell you the story of the last time lightning hit a guy’s spine. That one’s real fun.”

✦ . ticci toby

High anxiety, low sleep.

Loud thunder and intense wind? It sets him off. His senses are already heightened, so the constant pressure, flashes, and rumbles make it hard for him to relax. He paces. Taps. Fidgets like crazy.

You’ll likely find him on the floor with his hoodie over his head, chewing on a hoodie string or knuckles tapping fast. He won’t admit he’s scared—but if you hold his hand? He’ll squeeze back.

“I’m not scared, it’s j-just loud. And fa-fast. And my heart’s doing that thing again. Sh-Shut up. Don’t laugh.”

✦ . eyeless jack

Oddly calm, almost serene.

Jack gets quiet and reflective when storms hit. He doesn’t mind them—it reminds him of being human. Of long nights stuck indoors. If you’re afraid, he’ll sit with you and talk in that deep, soothing voice.

Blankets, low light, the sound of rain drumming against the windows—he becomes surprisingly gentle during these moments. If you can’t sleep, he’ll read aloud or just hold you while the storm passes.

“It’s only water and pressure. Let it pass. I’ve weathered worse. You’re safe here.”

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Overly alert, stress levels high.

Thunderstorms make Tim hypervigilant. He’s constantly checking windows, unplugging appliances, walking the perimeter. It’s less about fear and more about control—he needs to do something to soothe all the anxious energy.

If you’re scared, he’ll bring you to the safest corner of the house, hand you water, and wrap an arm around you without saying much. It’s protective instinct kicking in.

“We’re good. Power’s out? Fine. Got flashlights, got food. You? You’re staying right here, with me.”

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Ghost mode.

Brian becomes quiet and watchful during storms. He’s used to navigating in the dark and doesn’t mind a power outage—it gives him an excuse to slow down. You’ll usually find him on the porch.

He’ll sit beside you with a candle lit, sipping coffee, letting you curl up under his hoodie if the sound is overwhelming. If there’s a tornado warning, he’s already got the emergency kit packed.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. If we need to move, I’ll let you know. Just breathe. We’re okay.”

✦ . kate the chaser

Tense but collected.

Kate’s fight-or-flight is always close to the surface. A massive storm doesn’t scare her—but it does put her on high alert. She’ll take care of what needs to be done, snapping orders if needed.

If you’re visibly upset, she’ll settle in next to you and let you cling. She won’t admit it, but your fear makes her softer.

“I’ll keep watch. You sleep. If anything gets too close, I’ll be sure to get us out.”

✦ . ben drowned

Annoyed and glitchy.

Ben is furious when the power goes out because—no WiFi. No console. No screens. The storm fries his nerves, especially if there’s flickering that disrupts his internal “frequency.”

He might pace like a cat, trying to distract himself with cards or dumb games on his phone. But if you’re scared? He’ll roll his eyes and pull you close, muttering about how “it’s just wind” while secretly comforting you. If lightning ever hits, it’s fun to watch his pixels spazz out for a minute.

“Ugh. I swear if this storm bricks my backup files again, I’m gonna scream. But yeah, sure, come here. I’ll keep you warm—whatever.”

✦ . clockwork

Calm, focused, takes charge.

Natalie has that calm, “big sister energy” when things go bad. She immediately makes sure everyone’s okay—locates batteries, locks windows, pulls you away from anything dangerous.

You won’t even realize how scared you are until she’s got your face cupped in her hands, checking your eyes and making you sit down and breathe.

“Storms come and go, baby. But I don’t. Sit tight. I’ve got this. You just stick with me, okay?”

✦ . laughing jack

Unpredictable.

Jack either loves storms because they’re loud, theatrical, and chaotic—or he goes eerily silent and curls up in a corner like a traumatized cat.

If it’s one of his good days, he’ll be watching the lightning flash like it’s fireworks, making jokes to calm you down. On bad days? He needs the affection. Needs you grounding him.

“Boom! Nature’s having a tantrum! …What, scared? I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine, sweetheart.”

✦ . slenderman

Completely unbothered, weirdly serene.

The storm doesn’t touch him. The wind won’t enter his forest unless he wills it. But if you’re affected, he will appear silently beside you, energy swirling slightly, and place a hand on your back.

He won’t speak unless necessary. He simply exists as a protective presence—watching, listening, shielding.

“Rest. I will not allow the world to harm you tonight.”

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

creeps fav cuddling positions, GO!

(btw love your writing, keep it up :3)

✦ . jeff the killer

Full-Body Lockdown.

Jeff will not admit he likes cuddling at first. But the minute you fall asleep against him? He’s hooked.

He wraps himself around you like a heat-seeking snake—arm over your waist, legs tangled, chin resting in your hair. You are not moving until morning.

“Try’n leave and I’ll gut you. …Not really. Shut up. Go back to sleep.”

He gets possessive at night. Sleeps like you’re the last warm thing in a cold world. You wake up to his hand on your hip, his breath hot against your neck, and a grumbly, clingy tone that makes him sound more wolf than man.

✦ . ticci toby

Face-Nuzzle Swallow.

Toby loves being close enough to feel your breath. He sleeps with his head buried in your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, and your hoodie half-pulled over him like a blanket.

It’s grounding for him—your heartbeat, the way your fingers run through his hair.

“Y’r like a weighted blanket. Better, even.”

He twitches in his sleep sometimes, and you’re the only thing that helps keep him from spiraling. If you whisper to him? He melts. He won’t ever admit it, but he needs this.

✦ . eyeless jack

Back-of-the-Skull Protection.

Jack likes spooning. Him being the big spoon. Always.

One arm slung over your waist, chest pressed to your back, legs wrapped up in yours. His mask might still be on if he’s trying to keep some distance, but even then, he holds you like a shield.

“You sleep better this way. I know.”

He’ll rub soothing circles into your stomach with his thumb, hum low in his throat, and kiss the back of your neck if he’s feeling bold. You’re safest in his arms, and he’ll make damn sure you know it.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Lap Pillow/Guard Dog.

Tim likes to watch you sleep first. You’re laid across his chest or curled into his lap, and he’ll just run his hand over your back or through your hair while he stares at the ceiling.

He’s quiet, heavy-limbed, and warm—like a furnace.

“You trust me like this? …Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

The minute you so much as shiver, he pulls the blanket tighter and tucks you in deeper against his body. He sleeps with one hand under your shirt, just resting on your back or side—soothing, steady, protective.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Chest-to-Chest Devotion.

Brian likes to hold you face-to-face, foreheads touching, arms wrapped around your shoulders. This way, he can feel your breath on his lips and tilt his head to kiss you at any moment.

It’s intimate. Reverent. His.

“I’ll always be right here when you wake up.”

Sometimes, you wake to him already watching you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He doesn’t say much, but the look in his eyes says everything.

✦ . kate the chaser

Knife Behind the Back.

Kate always keeps one hand on a weapon—but the other? It’s gently wrapped around your waist. She’ll pull you flush against her chest in bed, keeping your face tucked under her chin.

“No one gets to you but me. Sleep.”

She doesn’t snore. She purrs, practically. A low hum of contentment that only happens with you. If you fall asleep on her shoulder, she’ll stroke your hair until you go still, then hold you all night like you’re the only good thing she has left.

✦ . ben drowned

Tangled Controller Cord.

Ben will literally pass out on top of you mid-game. One leg slung over your hips, head pillowed on your stomach, arms wrapped around your waist like you’re his favorite plushie.

“You’re the best place to crash. Just sayin’.”

He snores lightly (it’s kind of adorable), and if you try to wiggle away, he’ll groan and latch onto you like a barnacle. It’s chaotic, but he’s touch-starved and cuddly when he trusts you. Good luck escaping.

✦ . clockwork

Over-the-Shoulder Pillow Queen.

Clockwork cuddles you like royalty—your head on her chest, arm draped around your back, her hand lazily stroking your shoulder. She always wants you on her, in some form.

“You look good right there. Stay a little longer.”

She’s not the little spoon often, but if she is? You better praise her. Run your fingers over her scars, kiss her collarbone, tell her she’s safe. She pretends to brush it off. She never means it.

✦ . laughing jack

Entangled Limbs & Chaos.

LJ sleeps like a feral dog that’s found a warm bed. One leg over your hip, arms tangled around you, his nose buried in your hair.

“You smell like sugar. I like it.”

He hums lullabies into your skin and kisses every exposed part he can reach. It’s a whole experience. He doesn’t just cuddle—he devours the moment like it’s the last joy in the world.

✦ . slenderman

Stillness Incarnate.

Slender doesn’t sleep, but he lets you curl up against him. Sometimes sits cross-legged and lets you nap against his thigh, one tendril gently coiled around your body like a lifeline.

You feel his presence settle around you, weightless but warm.

There’s something ancient and safe about it. You never have nightmares when he’s near. His silence is the softest lullaby.

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

Can you PLEASE do a hc with the creeps reacting to reader kissing them everywhere after they came home exhausted ☺️☺️

✦ . jeff the killer

He storms in like he always does—messy hair, blood under his nails, the usual chaos vibrating under his skin.

You don’t even speak. Just take his face in your hands and kiss his jaw, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. A kiss to the scar. His temple. His eyelids.

His smirk fades.

“…The hell are you doing?”

But his voice goes soft. Almost shaky.

His shoulders relax like he’s melting right into your touch. He won’t ask for more, but when your hands trail lower and you kiss the bruises on his arms, he closes his eyes and exhales like he’s finally, finally safe.

Whispers, “You’re gonna ruin me, y’know that?”

✦ . ticci toby

He’s jittering, twitchy, worn from missions and overstimulation. The moment he slumps on the couch, you crawl into his lap and start kissing over his hoodie, his face, his fingertips.

At first, he’s laughing breathlessly. “Babe—what—what’s gotten into you?”

But then he stills.

You kiss his scarred neck. His shoulder. His hands, trembling as they hold you back. His body stops ticking. His stutter stops mid-word. And it’s quiet.

He clings to you. His head drops to your chest.

“D-Don’t stop. Please.”

✦ . eyeless jack

He’s exhausted. Blood-slick gloves still on. You help him clean up, wordlessly, then pull him to bed and begin pressing kisses all over his arms, his throat, his ribs.

He flinches at first. “You shouldn’t touch me like this.”

But you hush him, and he lets it happen.

Your lips against the scar tissue on his shoulder. His claws. His maskless cheek. He trembles. Something inhuman in him tries to pull away—but the man in him stays.

“You’re… very gentle,” he whispers.

He stays with you all night.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

He comes in grumbling, his coat half-off, covered in dirt and dried blood. Doesn’t even get a “hi” before you’re kissing over his shirt, tugging the mask off, brushing your lips across his frown lines.

“Jesus Christ—what’s this for?”

But his voice is low, husky. He likes it. A lot.

You kiss the inside of his wrist. His neck. His chest, through the fabric. His tension bleeds out of him slowly. He catches your jaw, rubs his thumb over your cheek.

“…You got no idea what you do to me.”

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

He’s silent. Always is after missions. But his shoulders are slumped when he walks in. The job went bad. His mind’s worse.

He doesn’t say a word when you kiss his throat. The bridge of his nose. His chest, after pulling down the collar of his hoodie.

The trembling in his hands stops. His breathing steadies. He doesn’t talk—but you feel it in the way he holds you tighter. In the way he presses a forehead to yours and just stays there.

Letting your affection carry all the weight he can’t put into words.

✦ . kate the chaser

She comes back gritting her teeth. Bruised knuckles, dried blood, soaked hoodie. She tries to walk past you—until you grab her wrist and kiss her palm.

She goes stiff. “What’re you doing?”

Then you pull her onto the couch and start kissing up her arms. Her throat. Her jaw, her temple, her chapped lips.

Kate’s eyes flutter shut.

She exhales like she hasn’t in hours. Drops her weapons. Drops the act. Lets herself lean into you, whispering,

“…Keep doing that, and I might not ever leave again.”

✦ . ben drowned

He comes back from the digital, looking drained. Like something fed on his code for hours. You drag him to the couch and kiss him like he’s real, kiss every inch of him—forehead, ears, his neck under his hoodie.

“Hey… this is new,” he teases, weakly.

But you keep going. Kiss his knuckles. His temple. The corner of his mouth.

Ben leans into it like a cat. Practically purring.

“You’re gonna short-circuit me if you keep this up.”

He starts glitching on purpose just to scare you so you’ll hold him longer.

✦ . clockwork

She barges in like always—sarcastic, defensive, all bark.

You don’t say a thing. Just cup her face and kiss the side with the clock first. Then her cheek. Her pulse. Her scarred knuckles.

She freezes.

“…What’s this, your way of flirting?”

But her voice is quiet. Like she doesn’t want to ruin it. When you get to her shoulder, her collarbone—she exhales. All the tension evaporates.

And when you whisper, “You deserve softness too.”

She hides her face in your neck and says, “…Don’t say that or I’ll cry.”

✦ . laughing jack

He crashes in loud, coated in glitter and fake blood, talking a mile a minute—until you pin him down on the bed and start kissing him.

You kiss the bridge of his nose. His ink-slicked jaw. His sharp shoulders and the stripes on his arms.

“Oh, you’re really gonna make me blush,” he teases, voice fluttery. “Keep going. This is the best show I’ve had in ages.”

But when you kiss his chest and say, “You’re home now.”

He stills. And then his arms wrap around you, tight. Too tight.

No more jokes. Just a whisper: “…You always make me feel at home again.”

✦ . slenderman

He doesn’t get tired like mortals do, but today, he feels… distant. Unmoored. Reality dragging at the edges.

You don’t care. You cup his face—whatever form it’s in—and press soft, grounding kisses. His cheek. His shoulder. Over his ribs and arms.

He goes deathly still.

“Your affection is… bewildering,” he says. But his voice is fond. You keep going. Kissing his hand. His chest. His sharp angles, softening under your touch.

He cradles you like something holy.

“If I could dream,” he murmurs, “I imagine this would be in every one.”

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

9

[an-3moia]

✱　Brian　Thomas　Tumblr　layouts

┄　PSD used　♡　REQ by anon

┄　AC : /sickhoondr , /n-nicaela , /4arconinoma

┄　Ik some of these are more hoodie related , it was tough looking for normal Brian art :(

┄　REBLOG && CREDIT TO USE

[an-3moia]

Creepypasta Twitter Links - Multi Edition

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You must be logged into Twitter to see these videos!

── .✦ dividers by me. links belong to their respective twitter users. please notify if any links mess up or become deleted!

Masky and Hoodie couldn’t help themselves. You couldn’t decide who you wanted in which hole, so they made the decision for you. It hurts, they know it does, but it just feels too good to care.

Jeff and Ben are horrible at sharing. They don’t like taking turns, so when Ben refuses to pull out, Jeff forces him to make room anyway. They’re too caught up in their egos to realize they’re fucking you stupid.

Jeff, Jack, and Toby can’t resist how helpless you look lost in the woods. They promise to help you find your way home, but they guide you deeper into the forest, into an abandoned factory building. It’s not their fault you gave up so easily and let them have their way with you.

Kate and Masky just want you to know how fun it can be to become a proxy. They love their new little plaything The Operator dropped off for them.

Jeff and Nina don’t always get along, but they do have you to bond over. He’s all the intensity and she’s all the sweet kisses, but you’ve never cum so much in your life.

Jeff, Masky, Hoodie, Ben, and Toby find you knocking at the mansion’s doorstep during thunderstorm to seek shelter. You’re intimidated by all the strong, scary men—but they make sure to make you feel right at home as soon as you’re inside.

Toby and Ben are easily entertained. You walking around in a ditsy school uniform? They grab you before you can even blink. They might mess the poor outfit up, but don’t worry, they’ll buy you plenty more.

Jeff and Toby can’t believe their luck when they’re sent on a mission to take out a potential threat, only to find you laid out on your bed fingering yourself. They’ll take you out alright, you’ll be passed out on their cocks before you know it.

Masky and Hoodie have been working together for so long they can practically read each other’s minds. It’s almost no effort for the two to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars, working together effortlessly and in sync to make you cum over and over again.

Jack, Jeff, and Ben like to go fast, hard, and without complaint. So when they find you, a size lover who just can’t seem to get enough, they work their frustrations out on you over and over again until you’re begging them to stop.

Masky, Toby, and Hoodie are gifted a special plaything from The Operator. You are to abide to their every wish, fulfill their every command. The first thing they can think of? Forcing you to your knees so you can take all of their cocks at once.

You’re all big talk. All confident that you could out-last anyone and everyone during sex. Jack, Toby, Jeff, Ben, and Masky beg to differ. Whoever comes first loses, and you’re not looking so hot. Maybe you could take just one more before you have to tap out. But the guys are just getting started with you.

๑ back to my masterlists

── .✦ rainrot4me2025, all rights reserved. ꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

Creepypasta Men Twitter Links - Part 2

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You must be logged into Twitter to see these videos!

── .✦ dividers by me. links belong to their respective twitter users. please notify if any links mess up or become deleted!

๑ jeff the killer

Jeff knew he was right to kidnap you, you were just too pretty to not take home. It’s been a week now, do you think anyone’s still looking for you? Do you even care?

Jeff loves when you try and run. When you think you even have a chance of getting away from him. He might let you get a few feet away, but he’ll he dragging you back onto his cock with a laugh before you can get your hopes too high.

Jeff isn’t a graceful man. The most gentle he can get is when he’s fingering you open for his cock, holding you down and prepping you just how you like it.

Jeff loves when you get all nasty and depraved. You’re so desperate to cum you’ll do whatever he says whenever he wants it. He always makes sure to reward you for being so filthy.

Jeff gets so hard when you let him go as fast as he wants. You don’t try and stop him, just lay there and take it like he knows you can. You’re nothing but a fleshlight to him anyway.

The people in the room next to you could probably hear every knock of this headboard against the wall. But Jeff didn’t care. If he was going to have to spend his night in a filthy, two-star motel, then he was going to find something to make it enjoyable.

๑ ticci toby

What was Toby supposed to when you kept grinding back on him in your sleep? He couldn’t just ignore it, not when your panties are already soaked and leaving wet-spots on his boxers. Was it cause you were dreaming about him?

Toby only wore a condom because you were nervous about getting pregnant. But proxies can’t reproduce, no matter how many times they cum deep in your cunt. Looks like you finally figured that out…

Toby can’t believe he’s never done this before. How has he never fucked you when it feels this good? When you grip him so tight. He doesn’t think you’ll be able to stay just friends after this, not now that he knows how wet you get when he touches you.

Toby knew you climbed onto his lap because you wanted his cock, but he was going to make you work for it first. If you could come on his fingers, then he might just give you what you want. If he’s still up for it.

Toby who doesn’t know how to touch you yet. Doesn’t know where’s he’s supposed to put his hands or how he’s supposed to hold you. But what he does know, is that moving his hips like this makes you get really tight on his cock.

Toby knew this was bad. But when the proxies accidentally gave you too many sleeping pills, he was put in charge while the others went to find something to reverse the effects. He’d be quick, he promises. You’ll never even know he used you like this.

๑ eyeless jack

Jack always enjoys making you watch yourself cum in the mirror. Forcing you to look at every expression, every noise, every lewd thought that comes out of you. Be careful not to look away, he likes to stop and make you beg him to start going again.

Jack knows exactly how to angle his hips so he hits every sensitive spot inside you. You’re falling apart on his cock, barely making a sound from how choked out you are, body completely at his mercy.

Jack knows his way around your body. Every inch, every curve, every spot that makes you cum so hard you’re drooling. He always loves what pressing right there does to you.

Jack knows you can’t fit him inside yet. That’s alright, he’ll make sure you both still feel good.

Jack won’t always admit to his oral fixation, but when you’re dropping to your knees and begging to suck his cock, he can’t help the growl that tears from his throat. Just how much spit can you get all over yourself, huh?

Well good morning to you, too. Jack can barely get his hollow eyes open before he’s looking down and seeing your panties hooked around your ankles. At least let him wake up first so he can really show you how good he can make you feel…

๑ masky (tim wright)

It took forever for you to stop crying every time Masky broke into your home and dragged you out of bed. But when you finally stop begging him to stop and start begging him to go faster, he can’t help but reward you for being so good.

Masky hates when your stupid panties get in the way. But he doesn’t have the patience to take them off, so it’s not his fault if he ruins them.

Masky and you were supposed to take a quiet little getaway trip to his cabin near the lake. So when you stroll out from the bathroom in a tiny little lingerie set, he can’t be held responsible for just how loud he makes you. There’s no one around to hear you cry anyway.

Masky said he was sorry. He didn’t mean to make you upset. There had to be a way to make it up to you, he’d do anything. Anything.

Masky can’t help himself. Not when you’re laying on the motel bed across from him and arching so sinfully in your sleep. You keep shifting your hips, spreading your legs like you know what you’re doing to him. He’ll be gentle, but he just can’t resist it anymore.

Masky is starting to second guess taking that viagra. He didn’t know it would affect you so bad, he can hardly keep up when you’re riding his cock so fast it’s practically going numb. At this rate, he’ll cum before you do.

๑ hoodie (brian thomas)

Hoodie loves it when you can’t stop. As soon as he quits thrusting, your hips are moving to make up for the lack of stimulation. He could almost laugh, he’s got you so cock-whipped you don’t even realize it, or maybe you just don’t care anymore.

Hoodie always wonders when the two of you leave his bedroom why you get so many stares. You’re not being that loud, right? It doesn’t matter to him when you feel this good anyway. You can be as loud as you want when you cum on his cock.

Maybe this will teach you to talk back to him. Hoodie only wants what’s best for you, but if that means being bent over his lap and getting spanked so hard you’re crying, then that’s just what he’ll have to do.

Hoodie never would have thought being gone for so long would’ve made you so eager. It was only a couple of days, but apparently that was enough for you to push him into the coach and have your way with him. Maybe he should go on missions more often…

Hoodie can’t hide the boner in his jeans any longer. If you’re going to walk around town in those nasty little shorts, then he can’t be held responsible for what he does when he drags you back to the truck.

Hoodie knows he can have you any time he wants. He’s earned that right. It doesn’t matter how busy you are, if he decides he wants your cunt, then that’s what he’ll get.

๑ ben drowned

Ben can’t get enough of your new shorts. What is he supposed to do when you parade around in them, leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination. It was only a matter of time before he ripped them off of you anyway.

Ben has worked so hard lately. You think he deserves a little reward for being so good.

You bought this new vibrator for you and Ben to try. But when he takes a hold of the toy, and it starts vibrating at a pace faster than any of its normal settings, you just know he has something to do with it.

Ben always promises he’ll watch a movie together without having sex. But it’s always your hands that start to rub his leg first. The two of you never make it halfway in before you’re completely lost in each other.

Ben can’t believe you’re still cumming. What is this? Round 4? 5? It’s all good with him, he won’t stop until you’re sobbing and he’s shooting blanks. But until then…

Ben is too lazy to put it all the way in. You’ll be fine if he just fucks your thighs, right?

๑ back to my masterlists

── .✦ rainrot4me2025, all rights reserved. ꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

After reading the pregnant hcs, what type of parent do you think the creeps would be after the baby is born? Seriously LOVE your work and have a wonderful day!

✦ . jeff the killer

Unhinged but trying (badly).

Jeff didn’t want a kid. At first. But the second that tiny baby grabbed his finger with those impossibly small hands?

“Okay what the fuck, why is it… cute?”

Still terrible with crying. He’ll hold the baby at arm’s length like, “Why’s it making this noise again??”

Surprisingly very protective. You’d have to pry that baby from his cold dead hands. Literally.

The baby starts laughing when Jeff pulls faces, and suddenly he’s doing it more than killing. Not soft, but for them? Yeah. A little.

Constantly tells them dramatic stories of how he “killed a guy for looking at mommy funny.”

✦ . ticci toby

Anxiously attentive, very soft dad energy.

He’s twitchy around the baby, scared he’ll hurt them, but he loves holding them to his chest so they can hear his heartbeat.

You catch him humming to them when he thinks you’re asleep.

Stims with baby toys. Chews on the baby’s teething rings more than the baby does.

“No, you don’t get it. This o-one’s high-grade silicone. Look at the bounce.”

You’ll catch them laid out on the couch at all times, the baby laying flat on his chest while they zone out at the television. They’re both equally focused on the kid’s show that is playing.

Insists the baby sleeps in the room with you two and never lets them out of his sight.

✦ . eyeless jack

Gentle giant who’s surprisingly intuitive.

Jack is terrifying to most people, but babies don’t care about eyeless faces. This one just giggles when he sniffs them.

Knows everything about baby nutrition. “Don’t feed them that. Their pancreas isn’t ready.”

Stitches up tiny plushies when they break. You find him sewing by lamplight, brows tense in concentration.

Carries the baby in one arm like they’re made of glass. Absolutely walks them around whenever he’s going like a little daddy-baby mission. Takes mid-day forest walks every time they get fussy.

“They smell like you. It’s… grounding.”

Dead silent killer at night. Baby’s never once woken up from noise. You suspect he paces the halls when they cry just to make sure they’re okay.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Trauma-ridden but loving. Dad mode: activated.

Tim never thought he’d be a father. His first instinct is to panic, to baby proof every inch of the mansion. But once that baby looks at him like he’s their whole world? He melts.

Obsessively schedules feeding, changing, naps. “Consistency keeps them stable.” Maybe he needs that more than the baby.

Paces with them at 3am when they cry, murmuring,

“It’s okay, little one. I’m right here, we’ve got each other now.”

Snaps if anyone gets too close to you two. Territorial in a predatory scary way. Your shared bedroom is off bounds to anyone else.

Holds the baby against his shoulder like it’s the last safe place on Earth. Tucks his arm under their legs and pats their bottom with all the gentleness in the world.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Emotionally constipated but incredibly present.

Doesn’t talk much, but the baby always calms when Brian holds them. They recognize his steady heartbeat and silence.

Knows how to swaddle like a pro. Could put the baby to sleep in two minutes flat.

Doesn’t let them near screens. Is weirdly intense about it.

Not a fan of nicknames, but you catch him calling them “bug” when no one’s around. You’ll usually find him sitting on the swing on the front porch, cradling the baby against his chest and humming them to sleep.

Gives quiet little smiles when the baby grabs his hoodie string or sneezes while asleep.

✦ . kate the chaser

Hot, scary, soccer mom energy.

Wears the baby strapped to her chest while doing combat training. You scream. She rolls her eyes.

“It’s good for their inner ear balance.”

Genuinely loves snuggling them when no one’s around. Will never admit it.

Gives them little plush knives. “Gotta start young.”

Hair always smells like baby shampoo because they nest in it.

Tells them bedtime stories where you and her are always the good guys. You cry. She pretends not to notice.

✦ . ben drowned

The most unserious dad—until it counts.

Teaches the baby how to press buttons on a controller before they can crawl.

“They’re gonna speedrun ‘Ocarina of Time’ by the time they’re three. Watch.”

Surprisingly soft-spoken with them. Talks like they’re a sensitive little thing.

His laptop wallpaper is the baby’s ultrasound. He keeps that thing like it’s a trophy and shows off to anyone willing to look.

Yells at you to come look when the baby does anything even slightly new.

Pranks the baby by glitching his voice through tech. Baby just giggles. It’s adorable and a little cursed. You’ll hear his crackling voice coming from the talking stuffed animal he bought them.

✦ . clockwork

Tough but incredibly maternal.

Picks the baby up one-handed like it’s nothing. Still coos and kisses their nose.

Teaches them to be strong early on. “You crying? That’s okay. Wipe your tears and try again.”

Doesn’t baby them emotionally, but fiercely protects them.

“If anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll make them count their teeth while I pluck them out of their head.”

Lets them paint her nails while she rocks them in her lap.

Reads bedtime stories with the most expressive voice. The baby is obsessed with her. Little hands always messing with the clock face in her eye.

✦ . laughing jack

Unholy blend of terrifying clown and doting parent.

Makes balloon animals that the baby never fails to pop, then remakes them again.

His lullabies are oddly morbid but calming. “This little piggy got revenge~!”

Has a toy chest that makes actual circus music. You’re suspicious when he starts to pull out cotton candy and buckets of popcorn.

The baby laughs way too hard when he does slapstick. LJ gets fake-injured just for that laugh.

Also? Wildly protective. No one lays a finger on them without facing his wrath.

✦ . slenderman

God-tier calm and terrifyingly competent.

You didn’t think an eldritch horror would be a great dad. You were wrong.

Creates the quietest space possible for the baby. No noise, no chaos, just warmth and stillness.

Rocking them in his arms is the only time his tendrils look gentle.

Baby doesn’t cry around him. It’s like they feel his presence and just… stop. It’s infuriating.

You swear he whispers things in a language you don’t understand to help them sleep. Nonetheless, it always works.

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

i forgot to post this but HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIM @unholyslasher <3 <3 <3 my mega pookster ILU ILU ILU!!!!

[an-3moia]

Wanted to do something with this but I know I won't so..

SIGH. I LOVE COLLEGE BRIM. IT'S JUST YEARNING. SO MUCH OF IT.

[an-3moia]

I’ve been listening to a lot of TV Girl recently. which songs do yall think they’d be

[an-3moia]

your girl dad jeff post has got me in a chokehold!!! /pos

i was wondering if you would be willing to maybe do girl dad brian or tim too? :]

Hehehehehheeh I love what I’ve started.

── .✦

Masky’s girl. The daughter of a man who speaks in grunts and violence but melts at the sound of “Daddy.”

“You okay, baby?” It’s the phrase he says the most. Doesn’t matter if she fell off the swings or got overwhelmed in the grocery store—Masky’s immediately crouched beside her, gently gripping her little face in his scarred hands, eyes searching hers with that quiet intensity only she can handle.

“Use your words. What do you need from me?” He listens. Every time. Always.

He reads to her in a low, gravelly voice, one arm wrapped around her like a steel cable while she curls up under his jacket.

Doesn’t matter what the book is—fairy tale, adventure, bedtime story—he treats it like sacred ritual. If she interrupts to ask a question, he stops and explains it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever been asked.

“The bear’s not mean, sweetheart. He’s just scared, like people get sometimes.”

She gets night terrors, and you don’t even have to call him. Masky’s already in her room before she fully wakes up, sitting at her side and running a thumb over her brow until she calms.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Breathe for me, baby.”

You catch him on the couch watching her sleep sometimes, completely still. Mask half-on, eyes hollow—but there’s that crack in his armor when he brushes her hair back and whispers, “You make all of this worth it.”

First time she cries because of someone at school? He doesn’t say a word. Just kisses her temple and walks out of the house for a few hours. (You know he didn’t hurt anyone… but he definitely scared their shit straight.)

His biggest fear is losing her. So he teaches her self-defense like it’s another form of love. “You aim for the throat. You run. You don’t freeze, you hear me?”

The day she asks him why he wears a mask around strangers, he just sighs and lifts her into his lap. “Because I’m scared people will look at me wrong. But you never do.”

She hugs him tighter. Tells him he doesn’t need it. He doesn’t take it off yet—but he lets her see him. You two are the only people he doesn’t mind not putting up a shield for.

Every drawing she makes of “Daddy” gets pinned to the kitchen fridge. Even the ones where he has three teeth and giant bug eyes. “She nailed the hair though,” he mutters.

He would rip this world apart piece by piece if it ever got too close to her, no matter what.

── .✦

Hoodie’s sweetheart. The only thing in this godforsaken world that keeps him human.

Hoodie is the kind of dad who doesn’t talk a lot, but who watches everything. He knows exactly when she’s about to cry—before she even realizes it. He notices when she’s off, when she lies about being okay, when she drops a crayon because she’s tired.

“…C’mere, bug.” He’ll just pull her into his lap without a word and hold her there. Calm heartbeat. Gloved hand stroking her back.

She always calls him “Daddy,” even when she’s older. He pretends to be annoyed about it, but it makes his throat tight every time.

“Still my little girl, huh?” He says it like a joke. She knows it’s not.

He teaches her how to use a camera before she can even spell the word. She wanders the backyard with an old Polaroid in hand, taking shaky, blurry photos—and Brian keeps every single one.

There’s a box in his room labeled “Her Eyes.” It’s sacred. No one touches it.

Hoodie is terrifying when someone hurts her. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just suddenly gone for a few hours. The school bully never bothers her again. His teacher gets real quiet when Hoodie shows up for parent meetings.

One time, a neighbor made her cry—Brian just stood on their porch the next morning, silent, unmoving, hoodie up, until the man closed his blinds and never spoke again.

She always puts stickers on his gear. His gloves, his boots, even his spare mask. You catch him brushing one off his sleeve once—and then peeling it off carefully and sticking it to the corner of his laptop instead. “She said that one looked like me. I’ll keep it.”

When she falls asleep on him? Hoodie freezes. Like he’s afraid any movement will wake her. He leans his head against hers, tucks her close, and finally… lets himself breathe. You swear he sleeps better those nights.

She grows up soft, but sharp. Independent. And Hoodie is ferociously proud of that.

“That’s my girl,” he says when she stands up for someone.

“That’s my girl,” when she bandages his hand after a job.

“That’s my girl,” when she hugs him for no reason.

His girl forever and always.

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

Okay hear me out what kinks would the creeps have 🤔

✦ . jeff the killer

Degradation + Biting

Jeff gets off on power and chaos—so you better believe he enjoys hearing you beg, cry, and call him names. He wants you a mess.

“C’mon, say it again—call me a monster. You like it when I ruin you.”

Also: He bites. Deep. Playfully or not. If he draws blood, he considers it a job-well-done.

✦ . ticci toby

Overstimulation + Praise

Toby’s love language is praise when he’s not killing. He needs to hear you want him, over and over. He loses his mind if you beg him to keep going, digging his feet and going as hard as he can. All just to hear your approval.

“You’re takin’ it so good, s-sweetheart… shit, I didn’t think you’d last this long.”

✦ . eyeless jack

Body Worship + Control

Jack is surprisingly reverent. He likes the science of you—how your body reacts, what makes you tremble. He’ll pin you down and take his time, running over every square inch inside and out. Whatever makes you squeal is what he takes notes on.

“You’re beautiful when you fall apart like this. Slow down now, let me make you feel good.”

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Rough Sex + Ownership

Tim’s possessive in bed—he needs to claim. Nothing soft. He grabs your throat just to feel your pulse and squeeze the air out of your lungs. When your body is completely limp and eyes are rolling back, he really gets into you.

“Mine. You got that? Say it.”

Also: Gets off on you being fully clothed while he’s dry humping you. It’s the anticipation and desire to be inside of you, but making you cum in your underwear first that makes him feral.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Power Exchange + Silent Dom

Brian doesn’t talk much during sex, but his touch commands. He likes obedience—not because he demands it, but because you give it. It’s his touch and whispers against your neck that have you falling to his every whim, not any stern words or threats.

“Good girl,” murmured low, quiet in your ear while he ruins you slowly.

He’s the type to make you ask permission to cum.

✦ . kate the chaser

Spanking + Domme Energy

Kate likes control and isn’t shy about taking what she wants. She gets off on watching you obey—even better if you’re defiant first. Any excuse to grip you by the back do the neck and lay you over her lap is a good one.

“Don’t act innocent now. You wanted to be punished.”

Wields a knife and a strap equally well.

✦ . ben drowned

Teasing + Remote Control

Ben’s all about games—he’ll tease you for hours, hack into a vibrator, send you risky messages during work. He loves watching you squirm. Keeping that little pulsing bullet inside while you try and speak, yeah.

“Try not to moan, cutie. Everyone’s watching.”

✦ . clockwork

Switching + Knife Play

Natalie loves both topping and being thrown around. Knife against the throat? Yes. Letting you ride her while she moans your name? Also yes. Sex with her is always a dramatic rollercoaster of emotions and strength.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll leave a mark—but only where no one else can see.”

✦ . laughing jack

Fear Play + Pet Names

He lives for fearplay—light sadism, psychological teasing, and whispering filthy things through a grin. He’ll chase you through the woods, sneak around corners and pin you against walls, anything to get your heart beating out of your chest.

“You look scared… Don’t worry, doll. I’ll be gentle. Ish.”

✦ . slenderman

Mind Control + Tentacle Play

Slender’s kinks are cerebral, surreal—he gets inside your head. He makes you want it. Elegant, controlling, utterly overwhelming. Anything that has your mind pulsing along with your insides If your eyes are glassy and your mouth can hardly shut, he’s satisfied.

“You were made for this. Made for me.”

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

first time requesting kinda nervous 😳 how the proxies (emphasis on toby and ben ofc) would react to meeting a fangirl

please..

✦ . jeff the killer

At first? He eats it up.

She’s squealing, telling him how “hot” he is, asking about the murders like they’re the newest trend—and Jeff’s smirking like a celebrity caught in public.

“Damn. You read the whole thing? You must be real desperate.”

He’ll let her fawn over him, lean in close, give her that predator grin. He likes that power, but it gets boring fast. The second she asks for a selfie, he’s already pulling a knife.

“You think I’m some fandom character? Cute. Let’s make it real.”

Fangirl or not—if she treats him like a fantasy? He’ll remind her what the real Jeff feels like.

✦ . ticci toby

Toby would be so weirded out. The second she starts gushing about his “axe aesthetic” and how she read “sooo many x readers with him,” he’s just standing there like: 😬

“Wait. You… like me? Like… that?”

He’ll stutter, glance around, then get real uncomfortable when she tries to touch his hoodie or talk about his stutter like it’s “cute.”

He might end up blurting something violent just to shut her up. Snapping like a cornered dog.

“You know I’ve g-gutted people, right? Like for real. This isn’t so-some fantasy, girl.”

But if she’s persistent? He’ll probably flee the scene before he short-circuits.

✦ . eyeless jack

Stone. Cold. Silence.

She’s freaking out—“OMG JACK I LOVE YOU,” waving her phone around showing art of him shirtless, gushing about his “dark aura.”

Jack just… stares. Doesn’t say a word.

“You love me, huh?” Leans in. Sniffs her.

“What part of organ consumption do you find romantic?”

She keeps babbling. He calmly says,

“Take one step closer, and I’ll remove your fingers and make you watch.”

Jack does not want to be romanticized. The only way he’s tolerating a fangirl is if she comes with an organ donor heart on her driver’s license.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Tim’s immediately suspicious.

Fangirl energy? Red flag. He thinks she’s either a plant from the cops, a proxy from another faction, or batshit unstable.

“What the hell is this?”

When she starts talking about his trauma like it’s character development, it pushes his buttons fast.

He might pin her to the wall just to see how quick she screams.

“You like killers so bad? Then act like prey.”

No patience. No tolerance. She gets too touchy and she’s knocked out cold.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Brian just… vanishes. The minute she starts gushing about his “mystery” and calling him “babygirl,” he’s halfway across the forest.

If she catches him off guard?

He’ll give her the iciest stare ever. Total silence.

“You’re not supposed to know I exist.”

If she pushes it, though—tries to flirt, pulls the “I can fix you” line—he’ll pull his gun and level it calmly at her head.

“No. You can’t.”

End of conversation.

✦ . kate the chaser

Kate’s first instinct? Mockery.

“Oh my god, are you… serious? You’re crushing?”

If the fangirl is cringe, she’ll go hard. Insults, intimidation, laughter.

“Lemme guess. Daddy issues and a Tumblr archive full of fake blood edits.”

But if the fangirl is confident, maybe even a little unhinged? Kate will be curious.

“You’ve got guts. Let’s see if they’re pretty on the floor.”

Don’t fangirl at Kate unless you’ve got the spine to back it up.

✦ . ben drowned

Ben is loving it.

She’s talking about his glitches, his tragic past, how he’s her “favorite haunted boy.” He lounges back and smirks, soaking in every second.

“Damn, you do got good taste.”

He’ll flirt back, call her Player 2, maybe even offer to show her the inside of his code. But if she starts crossing lines—calling him her “anime husbando” or posting about it online—he’ll crash her phone.

“This ain’t a play date, baby. This is a curse.”

Still, he’s the most likely to entertain a fangirl. For a while. Especially if she’s hot.

✦ . clockwork

Natalie hates it.

The minute a girl starts calling her “mommy” or complimenting her “yandere energy,” she’s already planning how to break her fingers.

“You think murder’s cute? You think me ripping someone’s throat out is adorable?”

She’ll mock the fangirl’s voice, imitate her squealing, then lean in and whisper something truly vile just to shut her down.

“Say one more thing about my clock and I’ll turn you into a organless corpse.”

But if the girl’s genuinely respectful? Nat might spare her. Maybe. Barely.

✦ . laughing jack

LJ is delighted. He thinks fangirls are hilarious.

“You read stories about me? Did they get the part where I pulled a kid’s intestines out like party streamers?”

He’ll lean into it, play the part, even sign her arm in fake blood if it makes her scream.

But deep down, he’s analyzing her. Seeing how far she’s willing to go. How far he can push.

“Ohhh, you’re obsessed with me? That’s adorable. Let’s test it, sugarpop.”

She might think it’s fun and games. Until the lights in his eyes go out and his smile fades.

✦ . slenderman

Utter disdain.

He senses her miles away. Her obsession. Her idealization.

“You perceive me as fiction.”

She comes running with fanart and poems and glittery Tumblr edits—he doesn’t even blink. Just tilts his head.

“Fascinating. You mistake horror for romance. Let me correct your delusion.”

One look from him and her mind could shatter. He’s not here to be idolized.

He is the myth. And myth doesn’t bend for fangirls.

꩜ .ᐟ

[an-3moia]

⦻ Stockholm ⦻ [Brian Thomas/Hoodie X F! Reader]

𝐂𝐖: 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

((this ones more tame since its my first fic so, ENJOY! 18+ smut))

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟕𝐤

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The day had been dragging on since you clocked out of your gas station job. A simple cashier with nothing to show for it except for a shit apartment in the worst possible side of town. You didn’t care much, it was a roof over your head and that's all that really mattered, not like you had any friends or a man to impress. Just yourself.

The second you pressed that final button on the register screen sent a huff of relief through your lungs. You were free for the night. It was about 10 pm, too late for any sort of rush and nobody ever came in past 9 since it was far out in the middle of nowhere. So you were alone with the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and the smell of cigarettes bursting through your nose.

You walked around the counter with your hands in the pockets of your short denim skirt that just barely covered your ass. You didn't have money to buy a new one, and laundry was too much of a hassle, so that's all you had left to wear for the day. You had just made it past the soda machine, approaching the door of a cooler, when the bell above the door rang like an alarm in your ears. You tensed.. odd.. this was an unusual time for customers. You realized quickly that it was a man the second your head whipped around to see who had come in.

A man with a muted orange hoodie and black denim jacket over it walked through the aisle next to the door. He looked quite average, yet you couldn't help but find him handsome even despite his rugged and rural appearance. Your attention shifted back to the contents in the fridge, frantically trying to grab the damn soda you couldn't seem to pry out of the snug spot it was fastened in. You felt eyes on you, the odd presence loomed in your vicinity. Fuck.. You had to get out of there, but the damn drink wouldn't budge.

The sound of his voice scared you into a frozen, wide eyed stance “Need help there?”

You swallowed. His voice was so.. rugged.. and deep.. and because it was so deep it sounded louder than a usual person would, so it almost was like he sternly demanded the question. You stood completely straight, silently debating in your head as to what the hell to say. You were nervous, and he noticed.

His hand reached past your shoulder, your back was turned to him and you could feel the air shrink between you as he slipped the drink you wanted out of its spot. His hands were fucking huge, manly.. you felt a shiver ripple down your spine as you saw him set the drink in front of your face for you to grab. The second you did you turned to face him, he was much closer than you originally thought, and you froze with shaking hands as you gripped the neck of the bottle.

“Thanks” You said out of obligation, you just wanted to leave, to get out of his way and be home safe in your bed.

“I’d say your welcome if you weren't standing in my way” He blinked at you.

“Oh-“ You noticed his arm was resting against the fridge door frame, and you swiftly ducked under it to give him access to the fridge. “Sorry”

He didn't reply, he just smirked with a laugh so quiet it sounded like he exhaled through his nose, grabbing his own drink with ease. Made you feel weak to have struggled getting yours. He didn't say anything else to you, just nodded with a tight smile as he walked to the register with your coworker running it. They had just come in.

When you paid you walked outside, the bell jingling as you hoisted your purse over your shoulder. He had left before you and had been sitting in his truck, headlights on the entire time you had been checking out, just.. watching you talk to your coworker. You noticed this, but assumed since the lights were on, he would pull out of the parking lot and go his separate ways, but he didn’t.

You started walking to your bike that was chained up to a pole at the far end of the lot, and while you pulled the key to the padlock from your bag, you felt eyes on you once again. Peering through the tinted glass of the truck. You knew damn well he was watching you. Though.. instead of fear.. you felt oddly thrilled by it. When you got the lock off you haphazardly stuffed it and the key back into your bag, and rode off.

The road was dark as all hell, so dark your puny bike light barely provided any guidance as to where exactly you were pedaling. Your frustration grew as you kept having to swerve to stay balanced, to stay on the road and away from large rocks and debris that might be littering the road. Your frustration was short lived however, as a bright light gradually illuminated the ground ahead of you. You were relieved for just a moment, until that familiar beat up truck slowly inched its way into your vision. Your heart dropped when it sped up, swerved to the side, and screeched to a halt directly in front of you.

You pressed the brakes so hard on your bike it sent you flying forward over the handles, and you hit the ground with a yelp of pain. You could feel the contents of your bag scattering across the asphalt, your shoulder and right leg scraping against the hard rough ground, leaving a blood trail behind you. Your head shifted upwards.. A masked man walked towards you as you hurried to sit up, and gather your things. The same outfit as the man from the station, except his hands were gloved, and he had on a ski mask with a red frown painted on it.

You raised a hand to brace for impact, but nothing came, nothing but a hand pinning your wrists to the ground with such force you swore your bones were cracking. You whimpered at the feeling and in your ear you could hear it clear as day, his low, seemingly amused chuckle. Strangely.. you weren't scared, or frightened, just shocked. Was he going to kill you? What could you have possibly done for him to want to? All you did was stand in the way of the fridge you had approached first.

Your questions died in your throat when you saw the flash of a camera shining in your eyes. A long lasting, constant light with a blinking red dot next to it. Was he fucking recording this..? What sick fuck does that? and.. why do i like this..? You scowled at him which caused him to utter his first full sentence to you.

“You’re not fighting back, why is that huh?” He let go of you to see if you’d run, and to his delight, you stayed. Though, you did shift, which triggered him to grab your jaw and yank your face towards him “You’re not going anywhere pretty lady” He shoved the camera closer to your face, almost blinding you.

Your face embarrassingly flushed bright red, and something you never would have expected to feel made you clench your jaw.. A pulsing ache between your legs that grew with every touch be bestowed upon you. He noticed the change in your face, leading him to shove the camera in his pocket and whip out what looked like a white cloth.. You didn't get to react before you felt it covering your nose and mouth in their entirety, his entire hand could have acted as a mask for you. Your vision slowly darkened to nothing while you felt him wrap his big arms around you. He then hoisted you over his shoulder.

It was hazy, you weren't yet entirely out cold just yet but you could see just faintly. Blurry shapes with no definition or depth. You couldn't see anything except for two blobs which you assumed were his boots pounding the grass. The sounds of his clothes rustling filled your ears before you felt the hard sting of leather across your bare, bloodied legs.

You couldn't move, couldn't fight or try to escape. That's what he wanted wasn't it.. Your blurred vision happened to catch the flash from the camera again, shining directly at you before it disappeared. The sound of the truck's engine roared, following the slam of the door before you blacked out entirely. Unconscious, helpless, and vulnerable.

Your consciousness slowly returned with a sudden bump in the road, and you groggily forced your eyes open to sit up and look at your surroundings. He didn't speak, not one word, as he pulled into a random shack in the woods. It was so dark the only thing you could see was the rotted wood ahead of you, in a circle shape from the headlights. Just as fast as he parked he grabbed you by your hair, and dragged you out of the car by it. He was fast, his long legs provided him speed you could barely keep up with. You had to basically run so you didn't fall behind but even then it was an effort in vain. Every time you’d fall behind he would yank you forward.. god damn was it the hottest fucking thing anyones ever done to you.

Of course, he didn't forget the camera, so once you both were inside he slammed the door and threw you against a table. A dusty table that reeked of blood. It made your own blood run cold as you saw the stains on the rusted nails, and splintered wood. The flash from the camera brightly shone over your body, you could tell what areas he was filming just based on where the light was.. He was by your ass. The short skirt revealed it especially while bent over a table. You hummed lowly, slightly spreading your legs so he could get a better view, and in response to this you could hear a low rumble escape his mouth. You were enjoying this, and making it obvious

He raised his free hand, and smacked it down right on your left ass cheek, which pushed an involuntary moan out of you. The way you sounded made him suck in through his teeth, and smack down again. The second moan made him groan, “Yeah.. You like that dont you?” Smack. “You fucking whore” He groaned softly while grabbing a handful of your ass in his hands.

You were in pain, you could feel your heartbeat through your panties as your cunt begged to be touched. God you wanted to beg, you wanted to plead with him to just fuck you, tear you apart and use you. But nothing came out. The flash from the camera blinded you once more as he set it on the table 3 feet ahead, making sure to capture every single detail.

You couldn't see yourself in it, but you knew if you could you’d be humiliated as to how pathetic you must look. Your face dripped with desperation, your teeth biting your bottom lip with eyebrows furrowed and pleading. Your breath quickened as you heard the clink of metal in your ears, then the sound of a zipper ripping open.

Without warning, without a word, or hesitation you felt your cunt being stretched open. You let out a piercing cry as his cock filled you up so much you could hardly breathe, you were already seeing stars as he forced himself deeper. There was absolutely no time to adjust, to get used to it or even fully feel his length, he just started moving, hard. His thrusts were fast, rapidly increasing in speed as your nails dug into the bloodied table. Your mouth hung open as you bounced against the surface, being slammed into it over and over with such force the slight screech of the table legs jolting forward rang in your ears.

You couldn't hold your head up, so you leaned it downward to rest on the table. Keeping it up was just too much effort as your body melted completely underneath him. Your knees were jelly, struggling to keep them firmly planted on the rotted floors was an effort solely in vain as you kept having to readjust just to keep the position perfect. He noticed though, both of your actions, which lead him to wrangle your hair and yank your head up. The pain filling your scalp was ecstasy paired with the burning ache in between your legs, the stretch of him inside you and the way he hit the perfect spot over and over made you reel with moans that were impossible to hold back.

“Yeah, keep fucking doing that” He too was making his own noise, grunts and grumbles as he cursed under his breath. “You don't even- fucking know me- and yet you’re just begging for more arent you-“ his thrusts grew deeper, his free hand scooping you up to keep you in place, your legs dangling as he just kept fucking going. He was so deep inside you, you could feel his hips touch your ass, and every smacking sound complimented it.

You couldn't take it anymore, the aching in your cunt was so overwhelming you almost cried. The desperation overtook you as you reached a hand down, and started getting yourself off. He only chuckled between a broken moan as he said “Fucking slut, just gotta- cum like the whore you are” He chuckled again, but his eyes began rolling to the back of his head, and the pauses between his grunts grew smaller and smaller. You were building so quickly it was humiliating, your hand rapidly rubbed your cunt as your own moans and cries grew exponentially louder the closer you knew he was getting, which meant you were getting close too. By this point you forgot there was a camera recording your every move, every facial expression and every vocal inflection you cried.

And suddenly, with one hard slam into you, you felt the heat of his cum filling your insides. You soon followed, finally exploding with pleasure so intense your moans morphed into soft laughs. Then, a slick warmth traveled down your legs, his cum was leaking out of you, dripping onto the floor in thick globs. Which made you even further gone into your orgasm. At this point you were basically humping your own hand to get every last bit you could.

Little did you know, he had pulled out of you already, just watching you get yourself off with a sick smile under that damn mask of his. He didn't touch you, didn't do a thing to you as he just sat and stared at your high. It almost got him hard all over again.. And finally when you came down from it, you realized, your cunt felt entirely empty again. Embarrassment washed over you as you swiftly turned to look at him.

He was still as a statue, dick back in his pants, zipped and buttoned as if nothing happened. In one hand he held a cloth, and just as quickly as you noticed it, he lunged for you and smacked it right over your face. Your vision once again blackened into nothing, only seeing the red frown as your eyelids heavily closed.

The drive back to the spot where he snatched you was entirely forgotten by the time you woke up and found yourself there. There was no trace of him, no trace of the truck, not a single sign you were taken other than your belongings scattered around you aside your bike, which, when you looked closer.. Had a symbol on it, a circle, with an X through it. Your eyebrows furrowed as suddenly now you were beginning to remember what had happened before this. A thrilling ride with a stranger and the most intense fucking you’d ever had in your life.

It was a given that the entire bike ride home, you replayed it in your head over, and over, and over.

[an-3moia]

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

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

Thank you for feeding us 🙏🖤

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

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

Punishment (Brian and Tim X F! Reader)

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

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝐤

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brian stayed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[an-3moia]

hello! I love your writing but just wanted to know if you allow requests I mean I'd just like to be sure if you're comfortable with it, and if yes I was wondering what fashion style would the creeps like, have a good day and stay hydrated<3

Including more people than usual because I really enjoyed this prompt :)

── .✦

✦ . jeff the killer

Careless edge, boyhood recklessness dressed like a dare.

Straight dark jeans, scuffed high-tops, worn hoodies he never washes. Sleeves pushed up, hood always on, always bloodstained but never ruined.

Doesn’t think about style, but there’s an accidental charm to how he wears destruction like it’s tailored.

✦ . ticci toby

Restless movement in soft cotton layers. Like static electricity in human form.

Wears things for comfort and speed—light-wash jeans, oversized hoodies or zip-ups, fingerless gloves. Brown and gray tones, hoods that swallow his face, sleeves bitten at the cuffs.

Clothes always look slept in, like he’s just rolling from one place to the next. A little chaos in how he wears it all, like even his outfits vibrate.

✦ . eyeless jack

Sharp, subtle, and clean. Like a cigar lounge at midnight.

Dark button-ups, neat pants, structured jackets. Always tidy. Always dark. Wears his collarbones like jewelry. Never flashy, always composed.

His clothing feels like silence—precise and heavy with meaning. When he speaks, you notice the stitching on his cuffs.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Earthy weight. Sturdy denim. A man-shaped shadow in workwear.

Simple flannel, boots, jeans. Everything thick, practical, worn to hell. Never changes much, but it still suits him. Utility has its own sort of aesthetic.

Always looks like he’s ready to disappear into the woods or fix your car. The kind of man you see once, and feel like you’ve known him in another life.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Distant, layered, unreadable. Like fog rolling in through alleyways.

Neutral tones. Deep hoods. Thick fabrics layered like secrets. His clothes always look too warm for the weather—intentional.

He dresses like a quiet warning: don’t ask, don’t follow. His outfits aren’t curated. They’re calculated.

✦ . kate the chaser

Blade-sharp and body-aware. Confident utility.

Sleek silhouettes, cinched waists, sharp boots. Clothes that show off her strength, her control.

Everything dark, matte, or muted—no frills, no mess. Looks like a woman you don’t want to cross in a parking garage.

✦ . ben drowned

Comfort buried under chaos. Unwashed charm. Neon laziness.

Baggy hoodies, video game tees, too many rings, chipped nail polish. Clothes smell like Mountain Dew, controller grease, and anxiety.

Wears things just for the color, the logo, the joke. Looks bad on purpose but makes it work with a smug grin.

✦ . clockwork

Sharp lines, dark lips, hands on hips. Structured femme with bite.

Cropped jackets, leather pieces, silver jewelry. Heavy boots. Clothes like armor. Dark eyeliner and a don’t-touch-me energy.

She’s Wendy Corduroy on crack heroine. There’s elegance in her edge—never messy, always meaningful.

✦ . nina the killer

Flirty grunge with way too much lip gloss.

Everything she wears feels like it’s daring you to look—too short, too tight, or just a little too pink. But it works.

Cropped graphic tanks, distressed low-rise jeans, cherry-red sneakers, smudged eyeliner, oversized rings she could punch someone with.

✦ . jane everlasting

Sleek, striking, and effortlessly deadly.

Always dressed like she’s about to avenge someone or destroy your entire bloodline—with perfect eyeliner.

Fitted leather jackets, high-waisted trousers or sleek black dresses, combat boots with a feminine edge, always silver jewelry.

✦ . liu woods

Moody, layered, and slightly disheveled—like he grabbed whatever was on the floor but still managed to make it work.

Brooding without trying.

Worn flannel shirts over band tees, chain necklaces tucked under the collar, dark jeans, and that one old hoodie he never takes off.

✦ . x-virus

Sharp in a cold, techy way. Clean lines, dark colors, subtle military undertones.

Almost sterile—like he’d rather wear function than fashion, but still knows how to look good doing it.

Tactical black cargo pants, fitted black long sleeves, sleek combat boots, matte metal accessories, and gloves with the fingertips cut off.

✦ . bloody painter

Artist’s mess meets quiet elegance.

His clothes are worn but intentional—paint-stained jeans paired with something oddly refined, like a turtleneck or tailored coat.

Soft oversized sweaters, smocks he never washes, leather satchels full of charcoal, fingerless gloves, paint-splattered boots.

✦ . jason the toymaker

Victorian flair mixed with something more sinister.

He dresses like a porcelain doll maker who never stopped mourning, but with flair.

Ruffled blouses, long coats with ornate buttons, fingerless lace gloves, sharp dress shoes, and maybe a single red ribbon tucked somewhere.

✦ . laughing jack

Clowncore meets couture—chaos, but intentional.

Layered textures, loud patterns, asymmetry that works. Always something dramatic: long coat, too-tall boots, stripes that clash.

Looks like performance art, dresses like a walking carnival ghost.

✦ . slenderman

Stillness in motion. Timeless, clean, unnerving perfection.

Tailored suits in deepest black, polished shoes, gloves. Everything fits like he was born into it.

Style untouched by trend. Looks like a painting in a hallway you never meant to walk down. Even the way he stands feels dressed.

꩜ .ᐟ