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sillyguystrawb · 1 month ago

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♡ Ticci Toby X F!Reader ♡

♡ Violent Smut ♡

Prompt: I read far too many fics from my favorite writers on this hellsite who regularly indulge my disgusting fantasies and now I can't stop myself from writing violent filth about Toby. Thanks guys LMAO

Notes: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, No proofread no editing we giving you smut RAW drop your expectations... also German speakers help I used linguee and Google translate but I don't speak German LMAO

Content: Heavy violence, name-calling, degradation, masochism, sadism, online foreplay?, CNC, fear, mentions Snuff, implies and mentions murder, reader is a FREAK, Toby speaking German, Toby is mean, aftercare <3, let me know if I missed important things

♡♡♡♡♡

“Hey Toby, you wanna come over tonight? I miss you.”

Texting Toby after dark was a bit hit or miss at times, even though after 9 was the most likely time for him to be awake and available. Being nearly nocturnal and a serial killer, he was sort of a night owl one could say. Hit, and he'd text back almost instantly, sometimes with goofy selfies or asking when it's best to drop by your house next so he can spend the night with you. Miss, and you knew he was working by the way the text would be read in a few hours, but no response until the next morning and he was too tired to say much.

Today was a miss, and it was 5am when he texted back, “Sorry I couldn't respond, work is still really busy. Miss you too, how about Saturday? I can spend the weekend at your place if you want!”

Saturday? That was 3 days from now, and you hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks due to Slenderman working him like a dog, ordering him to kill. But you knew he had no choice, and took the chance you could. “Saturday it is, see you then!”

It was a long 3 days. You knew he wasn’t lying, he doted over you every chance he could, sometimes texting you between missions and telling you how much he missed you and dreamed about seeing you again.

The idea that he was being kept from you by Slenderman's targets bothered you, and it lead you to thinking about what he does. You'd known for a long time that he killed people, and through some questions and conversation knew that he was a killer in the core of his being, not just because Slenderman told him to. He liked what he did, as fucked up as it was. He was shocked to know you didn't mind, and even more shocked when you still wanted to be in a relationship with him. Due to knowing for so long, you hadn't been unaware of the effect his job had on you. Or at least, what thinking about him doing that job did.

Toby sneaking into a house, bloodlust in his dark eyes and his strong arms wielding an axe each like they were feather light. His large hands easily picking locks, his toned shoulders rolling back as he stood up straight in preparation for the fight. Creeping into the bedroom while the target slept, his mask and goggles covering his face so when the victim stirred from the sound of Toby's steel toe boots on the floor, his sinister and anonymous appearance would make them scream as the intruder pounces, swinging an axe powerfully and having blood splatter all over his body. Something about the power, the darkness, the heart stopping fear Toby can force into a mind, and the fact he enjoys it. The fact he can butcher and mutilate a human being with confidence and unstoppable force. A victim wouldn't stand a chance.

If he attacked you, you wouldn't either. He loved you too much to ever hurt you, but the fact he could? The fact it was only his love for you keeping you separated from being just another victim? The gamble of being around him, the fact that he could snap at any moment and decide you'd be prettier decapitated, or beaten to a pulp. Demented as the idea was intoxicating, but it wasn't those things that turned you on the most about Toby in regards to his job. It was the masochism deeply ingrained in your sexual desires.

The masochism that lead you to fantasies of being a victim, being that girl who hopelessly fights against him, and losing every ounce of power and autonomy she had to this deranged man and his need to kill. The violence, the way he would react to your screams and pleading for mercy with amusement. Thinking about the way he could hurt you, toy with your life before he took it, made you insatiable in your horniness. But he'd never want to hurt you, so you left it alone. The one girl who wanted to be beaten, tortured and bloodied up had to get the side of him that wouldn't hurt a fly. It was nice, he was perfect in so many ways, but you did wish he would indulge you, though it would require you to tell him.

Without thinking, you texted him late on Friday. “Hey, how do you feel about masochism?” Today was a hit, and he texted back, “I mean, calling me a sadist describes me pretty well, considering what I do.. why?” You felt your cheeks grow red, and you sent back another text, trying not to overthink it. “I just wanted to know if you would enjoy maybe.. taking your work home with you, so to say?” What on God's green earth were you doing. Texting a gruesome serial killer about how you wanted him to bring his work home with him. You didn't think you had an actual death wish, but you were dancing around fire, dangerously playing games with death.

“What? I'm not gonna kill you the fuck are you saying?” Toby wasn't getting it, so putting it clearer was going to have to happen. “I don't want you to kill me, I just like the thought of you roughing me up.. I fantasize a lot about how you'd look when you kill. How easily you could overpower me, how strong you are. I don't want you to kill me, I just want you to.. I dunno, hurt me. Terrify me.. the idea is just really hot.” You sent the text and buried your face into a pillow, actually telling him this might kill you before he even got to your place. Toby read the message but didn't respond immediately. You texted again, “Is that too fucked up? I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything about this.”

In less than two minutes though, Toby sent a video from his phone camera. Clicking the play button you watched, eyes growing wide.

There he stood, covered in blood holding the camera at an upward angle towards his face, masked up and drenched in fresh blood. He waved with his axe in his hand, and spoke low toward the camera, only illuminated in the dark room by one lampshade splattered in blood.

“You're t-texting a psychotic serial killer baby, If you really want it, t-trust me I'd love to f-fuck you up.” He moved the phone onto the bed, and it faced a ceiling with red splatter on it. Was there a surface in the room he was in that wasn't covered in blood? You were beginning to think not, but your attention snapped back to him as Toby leaned over the camera, propping his gore covered axe on his shoulder, giving you a taste of what could be coming. “But you have to b-be sure, I'm not in the business of being gentle with m-my victims.”

Victim. He was going to treat you like a victim. He texted you soon after with a single sentence. “Also, ‘apple’ is the safe word, when I get really violent I tune out words like no and stop.” Another video followed the text, this time of him outside, the camera facing down as he held it at an angle above him. “Sure ab-bout this? Last chance where b-begging for me to go easy might a-actually work.” He pulled his mask down to show a deranged, cocky smirk. He wanted this as bad as you did. “Apple is good, and yes I'm sure,” you texted back. It wasn't 5 seconds later he texted back something so innocent, that in context made your heart beat dangerously hard in your chest. “See you soon then.”

Putting down the phone, you realized you had no idea where he was. He could arrive late Saturday evening, or surprise you in 15 minutes. Your heart began to pump harder, whatever you thought he was capable of, whatever you wondered he could do, you were about to find out for sure, and it excited you as much as it scared you. The night was painfully slow, each creak of a floorboard you made put you on edge, every tick of the clock and every sound from outside made you wonder if he was finally here. Saturday started the same way, painfully quiet and slow. After dinner you started to clean up, and washed dishes at the sink. You glanced outside, it was dark, almost pitch black and definitely so in the dense woods behind the house. That's when you heard it. The click of the back door lock, opening. You hadn't heard him walk up to the back door, but he must be there, and your breath halted entirely. You had to run, every instinct in your body told you danger was opening that back door, and you had no choice but to listen as you scurried quickly into a closet in the hallway, excitement coursing through your veins just as much as fear. The thump of his steel toes on hardwood floor, and the familiar crack of his neck as he twitched. Something that you didn't notice lots of the time, but made you suck in air at this very moment.

As he came into view between the slots in the closet door, it was something better than any daydream, and yet infinitely more terrifying. The mask and goggles concealed his face entirely, the axes in his hands scraping against the wall as he walked next to the closet, and checked the door to the bathroom. “What's b-behind door number one?” Giving a look behind the shower curtain he hummed to himself. The shattering of the mirror made you jump, slapping a hand over your mouth to conceal any sound, beginning to tremble as he looked to the shattered mirror, the axe he'd planted in the middle of it stuck deep in the wall. “Come on out, baby~ l-let's have some fun.”

His face turned slowly towards the closet, facing you directly, he was looking into your soul. Stepping forward, he pulled the axe from the wall behind the wreckage with shocking ease, and began to chuckle to himself. “You know I know w-where you are.. so predictable, so.. f-fucking stupid.” You slammed open the closet door and made a run for it through the house, but before you could even ask yourself if that had been a good plan, an axe flew by your head and hit the kitchen wall with a deafening crack. You halted in your tracks, heart pounding painfully and chest heaving for breath before his hand grabbed you, throwing your body to the floor by your hair, the thwack of your back hitting the floor was more painful than it was loud, and you whimpered as you watched him slam his other axe into the floorboards next to your skull, and put his foot on your chest, high enough to make you wonder if he was about to step on your neck.

“Fucking pathetic.. didn't even m-make it to the back door.” His foot applied more pressure from his weight on your chest, your hands coming up to try and fight him, pry him off but it was no use. He didn't even feel pain, he could barely feel you punching him at all. He chuckled again, putting his foot down beside you and grabbing your neck, pinning you to the floor by your vocal chords. “You w-wanted this, you're to blame.” With a quick and effortless tug at your hair, your torso lifted off the ground and you let out a yelp and cry of pain as he dragged you along the floor, over into the living room where he had more space. Tears flowed down your cheeks at this point, but it was like he didn't know or care, as he threw you down again and growled again, “stand the fuck up.”

You tried to get to your feet, dizzy from the adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins and shaking from that and the excitement you felt in the pit of your stomach. You got one foot under you before a cruel kick to your side sent you back to the floor and Toby laughed at the cry of pain. “I'm just playing, n-now you can stand.” Was this another trap? You got in the same position halfway to standing before a fist came down and clocked your jaw, not hard enough to break it, but enough to make you fall on your ass again. It was humiliating the way he pushed you, laughed at your tears, and enjoyed every moment of it. Standing over top of you, pushing the back of your head down into the floorboards as he grabbed your face, he sat on your legs to immobilize them. “You look so p-pretty when you bleed..”

Were you bleeding? You must have been, probably the jaw blow, your bottom lip throbbed. His pocket knife was out in a second, flicked open as he uttered a threat, “Fight this and I'll be f-fucking you while you're unc-conscious.” The sound of your heavy heartbeat, shaky breathing, and sobbing was coupled by an aching body and jaw. The place he kicked you was still painful, never mind the aches in your neck from being thrown around by your hair. Your mind operated on instinct as your hands reached up and clung to Toby's jacket. “Toby please, no more I can't-” you were cut off by Toby's hand covering your mouth and nose, the lack of air made your eyes grow wide and your hands darted to his arm to try to pull it off. Attempts you made were futile, and Toby used his pocket knife to cut away your clothes quickly, messy scratches and cuts littering your skin as he made no attempt to be careful of your delicate flesh. Letting go of your mouth let you have a moment to gasp for air, whimpering desperately and barely registering in your mind how Toby pried open your legs to sit between them, undid his belt and jeans, pushing them and his boxers down just enough that his cock sprang out.

His pocket knife pushed against your neck, snapping your mind back to him and he pulled his mask down revealing a sinister grin. “So eine verdammte Schlampe,” with a quick thrust he pushed his long, thick shaft deep within your soaked pussy. “So wet, hungry f-for me, all because of what I'm d-doing to you.” You weren't ready for his size, and yelped at the sudden full feeling, unprepared and squirming to escape the painful feeling of him beginning to slam into your pussy so suddenly, so harshly. Your hands clawed at his jacket, legs kicked only to have Toby slap you across the face, the smack sound filled the room and so did the cry of pain you gave as he did so. “Stop f-fighting, you want this, I know y-you do!”

On his command, you gave in. You felt a moan escape your lips, your hands no longer clawing him but clinging to him, legs wrapped around him as he thrusted brutally. You couldn't stop him, you'd proven that much, but you didn't want to anyway. The adrenaline and fear making your body tremble was second to the excitement, the thrill of the fight. The raw, primal pleasure of being taken by force and claimed by the deranged man, he needed you so badly he would tear you apart to take what was his. The brunette man's dick slammed against your g-spot and the tears of pain gave way to tears of pleasure as you moaned again, much louder. “You l-like that?” He teased with a smile, knowing full well what the answer was. Still, you screamed out in pleasure, the overwhelming feelings exploding inside you, “Yes! Yes Toby!” He only took it as encouragement, hands going to your waist and pulling your body against him with every thrust. The heavy knot in your stomach tightened, body trembling intensely as more and more ecstasy filled your body. Toby could feel it, groaning as your pussy tightened around his cock, and his words came out mockingly. “Willst du für mich abspritzen? Gonna be a pathetic c-cockslut and cum on my dick?”

The pleasure skyrocketed as you came undone below him, arching your back as you screamed out his name. Your pussy pulsed around him, his groan of pleasure making it evident how much he loved it as he fucked you through your orgasm, and his snapping hips started to become more desperate as he chased his own high, eventually speaking low and demandingly, “beg for m-my cum.” Your overstimulation heightened your voice, whimpers and moans filling every word. “Toby! Cum in me, please!! I need you, I need you to cum! I want you to cum!” The sound of your voice begging him like that was what tipped him over the edge, moaning loudly himself as his hips stuttered and he came deep within your soaking pussy, slurring german words together as he did. His pounding slowed its pace to a stop, and the room was only filled with the sound of your heavy breathing coupled with his.

After a few seconds he pulled out slowly, and scooped you up bridal to carry your limp, exhausted body to your bedroom. The man laid you carefully on the bed, leaving the room only a few minutes and arriving again with the duffel bag of his things he'd left outside, and a warm, slightly damp cloth he used to gently clean your folds and any cuts and injuries he'd left on your skin. You watched him with half lidded eyes, voice sore but you used it anyway. “I love you, Toby..” he pulled his goggles off, the mask hanging around his neck pulled off after that, and he leaned over you to place a soft, loving kiss on your lips. “I l-love you more than anything.” You watched him stand, opening the duffel bag and changing into clean sweatpants and a black tank top, before laying down next to you and tracing his fingers over the marks he left behind. “Was it too much?” You smiled when he asked, that was the Toby you were more familiar with, the side of him that doted on you and did everything for you. “Not at all.” Your reply made him smile wide, his beautiful dark eyes crinkled at the corners and his chapped lips connected with your smooth skin, starting his normal routine when he came over of kissing every inch of your skin he could get to. This time, he took extra care to show affection to spots he'd abused prior, and extra care to stop at your lips by the end, pulling you close and going slowly to savor every taste he had of you.

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