#ticci toby drabbles

[n1ght0f-nyx]

giving him a fast and rough handjob that lasts what feels like several hours, he lays on the bed, his thighs squirming and clenching as you bully his sticky cock, he has cum a bazillion times, cum pooling at his thighs and stomach "oh god.. please mommy..i need more...d-d-dont stop!!" he begs and pleads, and you cant help but grin "don't worry babyboy...i wasn't planning on it~"

[noctiva]

(tumblr’s glitching blah blah blah you get it we’ve been down this road)

anyway this is hot as FUCK. started salivating thinking about it tbfh. LMAOOOOO OKAY

so like walk with me - Toby was probably only really planning on popping in once, grabbing a few mags and then using those as jerk off material for a few months at least. He’s a simple man, he really doesn’t need much, he could beat off to a simple nip slip tbh

but then he sees you behind the counter. young and cute, nothing like the sleazy old man he would’ve expected to be working here. sat behind the counter with your legs kicked up on the desk as you scroll through your phone in boredom, you look like sin. Too fucking sweet to be surrounded by nudie mags and porno dvds. He nearly turns on his heel and fuckin beelines it out of there bc he’s not at all prepared for this - but then you catch his gaze.

So he awkwardly clears his throat, gives you a curt nod and scurries over to the magazine rack with stiff shoulders and his heart in his fucking throat. digging his nails into his palm to dry and suppress a fit of tics but it doesn’t work so he’s left with joints twitching and jerking because he can feel your eyes on him and it’s stressing him the FUCK out lmao. he just came to buy some porn man he didn’t sign up for having to interact with a cute girl!! that’s like so unfair!

doesn’t make eye contact with you the entire time he’s paying, and his hands are shaking so much that he drops all the coins in his wallet and has to pick em all up off the ground while stammering out pathetic little apologizes (so fucking pathetic I want to put him in a blender I love him so much) while you just watch on - pleasantly amused. Because this was a nice change. Most of your customers were gross old men or incels that just ogled your tits the entire time and tried to hit on you. This guy was struggling to even breathe the same air as you right now.

He’s red as a tomato when he finally pays and snatches the magazines from you so quick you can’t even say goodbye before he’s nearly fucking sprinting out of the establishment LOLLLL

Hightails it to his truck, all twitchy and so fucking hot under his collar he barely even gets the door fully closed before he’s slumping into his seat and bringing a hand down to cup the bulge in his jeans. He’s praying you didn’t see it, but he’s been hard since your sweet soft voice asked him if he was ready to check out.

Beats one out obv, bc he’d probably get into a fucking car crash if he didn’t with how fogged up his mind was. One hand stroking his cock, the other one thumbing through the mags he just bought - trying to imagine that all those models were you instead. What you looked like under those clothes of yours, what face you’d make as he all but folded you in half

Ruins one mag by nutting on it mere minutes after buying it lmfao. Good :) An excuse to come back and buy another one :)

He becomes a regular customer. Like way too often lmfao. To the point where you’re wondering how one guy could need so many playboy mags. He never gets better with you, staying as that same twitchy blushing mess that you’d met the first day. He doesn’t talk much, and when he does it’s so quiet you have to strain to hear him. Mumbled out stuttered words, his gaze flicking all over the place as he forces them out. Like being around you was slowly choking him out.

It wasn’t, it was just that being around you made all the blood in his body rush right down to his dick - not leaving much left to power his body to do other things. Like act normal lmfao.

You get curious. Doesn’t help that you think he’s just so cute. A little pervy, obviously, but downright adorable with the way he acted like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life. So you start doing your own imagining. What he gets up to, what kind of place he lives in, how he interacts with other people, what he looked like when he was getting an eyeful of those mags you sold him. You’d bet big money he’d get just as red as when he was with you. All twitchy and gasping for air, face crinkled up with glassy eyes.

It’s a bad idea, but one day you follow him. Going through the motions of the same old routine - greeting him only to get a weak little nod in response, taking the cash out of his shaky fingers, watching him scamper out of the building like he had just committed a crime. You just can’t help yourself. He always looked so eager to leave, and you wanted to know why. Was it just because he was that socially awkward? Or did he have… Other matters to attend to?

You weren’t blind, you’d noticed his hard on quite a few times while cashing him out. You’d just never mentioned it because you were pretty sure he’d pop a major artery and pass the fuck out right in front of you if you did. But you knew. Had seen him not so discreetly trying to adjust his pants while you thumbed through the bills he gave you way slower than you needed to. Just to keep him here longer. Just to make him sweat.

You wait a minute before slipping out of the store behind him. Flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locking up early. It’s not difficult to spot him, already halfway down the street, speedwalking like a madman towards some old beat up truck. You watch as he unlocks it then slips inside - and through the windshield you can see it when he just absolutely slumps into the seat. His whole body going more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

You notice his hands reach down, but you can’t see much else. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing though. And that’s fucking bold. Right here on a public street? In a truck with no tints, no less. It probably should’ve turned you off completely, probably should’ve had you thinking he was a fucking creep you should stay far away from.

…But it didn’t.

It only spurred you on more. Made you into the creep in the situation, watching this guy jerk off in his truck from a few feet away. You don’t even realize you’re moving until you’re finding yourself walking right up to his windowsill - eyes going wide at the sight you’ve found.

One magazine open and abandoned on the passenger’s seat, his pants tugged down just enough to get his cock out. Which, he was furiously stroking like a man on a damn mission. Like he’d burst into flames if he didn’t get his rocks off. Face all scrunched, head tilted back as he gasped for air - precum dribbling down onto his knuckles.

And it’s exactly what you’d been hoping to see.

You don’t really think it through before you knock on his window, maybe you should’ve - because honestly you could’ve fucking killed him. It looks like you shocked him into having a damn stroke. You’d swear his ass left the seat with how violently he jolted. Limbs flailing, eyes straight up bugging out of his skull - looking like he could damn near cry as he hastily tried to shove his still hard cock back into his boxers while staring at you like you’d just killed a man in front of him.

You just giggle softly, and motion for him to roll the window down. This time he nearly does pass out. Because you’re smiling? You’re not disgusted? You just caught him in the middle of absolute depravity and you’re smiling at him??? It takes a few moments for your actions to compute in his head, before he reaches over with his clean hand and rolls the window down like you’d asked.

He’s too stunned he can’t even speak. Can’t even attempt to defend himself.

Good thing you don’t want him toooooooo ;)

“Need help?” You ask him softly, leaning up against the door of his truck, and he’s struggling to breathe. You’re looking at him, lips curved into an intoxicating little smirk, pupils wide as your eyes flicker between his face and the barely covered bulge in his jeans.

He blinks a few times, mouth gaping like a fish out of water because… what? He’s hallucinating right? Did he actually pass out somewhere along the way beforehand, and now he was dreaming? Because there’s just no way. There’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you’re offering.

“..Huh?” He manages to choke out, beginning to feel lightheaded - because he’s just now learning that he hasn’t taken a single breath since you showed up.

“Can’t be fun, gettin’ off like this.” You murmur back out to him, leaning your elbows against his windowsill. “You’ve spent a fortune on those mags. Dont’cha want more?” You meet his eyes for a split second before he’s looking away again. “I could give you more.”

It takes a second, because at first he thinks you’re fucking with him. It sure seems like a joke, having someone as beautiful as you offering up something so lewd. But you don’t laugh, You don’t snicker or point fingers, you just stay as you are - leaned up against his truck, the desire in your gaze so potent it makes his skin itch.

So, he finds himself nodding, almost on autopilot. The throbbing in his jeans making it hard to think rationally. Besides, this was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. If he shooed you away he’s be kicking himself for ages. You were the object of his fantasies after all. You were what he had been cumming to for weeks on end. Not the magazines he was buying. You.

“If… If you’re o-offering.”

That’s all it takes. You’re pulling open the door of his truck so quick it makes him gasp softly, crawling onto his lap even quicker. Sat on top of him, so close he’s breaking into a nervous sweat - his abandoned cock twitching beneath you. And got you can feel him now. So hard, big enough it makes your hips jolt instinctively. You should’ve guessed it. It’s always the quiet ones.

“Shouldn’t you tell me your name?” You ask him softly, hands already going down to where his cock strains against his boxers - tugging him free in an action that makes him let out a hiss through his teeth. You had been right. He’s even cuter like this. “Seen you so many times and you’ve never told me.”

“Toby.” He gasps out, his skin flushes and so hot to the touch as he watches you reach down to pull your own jeans down. Hindered a little by the confined space, but you still get them off - kicking them off of your ankles and throwing them into his backseat. “I-I’m Toby.”

“Toby?” You ask softly, watching him with rapt attending as you bring your hips down, your cunt only covered by your panties, grinding right up against his bare skin. He looks like he could die. “That’s cute. Is it short for somethin’?”

“T-T-“ He can barely even get his lips formed around his own name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t really blame him. None of this feels real. Not your heat, not your touch. Not the slickness of your pussy when you tug your panties to the side. He was sure that any minute now, he be gasping awake in his room - drenched in a cold sweat. “Tobias. It’s sh-short for Tobias.”

“Tobias. I like that.” You grind your bare cunt against his cock, shivering at the feeling of his hardness sliding between your slick folds. “Sounds real formal.”

From there it just progresses and progresses. Almost too fast for Toby to even keep up with, but he’s shocked back to reality real quick when you line him up with your leaking cunt. He can’t help but gasp, teeth gritting so hard he may just crack a tooth and you haven’t even gotten him inside you yet. “This is what you wanted, right Toby?” You ask him softly as you lower yourself down. “This what you’ve been fantasizing about?”

“Y-Yeah- Yeah, fuck-“ He can’t help it when his hands fly upwards, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips. “Please- Please-“

“Had a feeling you’d be the type to beg.” And then you’re sinking down lower, taking him inch by inch, almost caught off guard by the stretch he gives you. Filling you up so good it should be a crime, a dick this perfect hidden within the jeans of someone so unapproachable.

It’s not long until you’re setting a rhythm. Not long until his truck is filled with the filthy sound of skin on skin. The freshly bought magazines on the passenger seat forgotten - abandoned in favour of something real. So wet you’re soaking the front of his jeans, so tight he’s gasping out a moan ever time you drop your hips down. He can barely even breathe, barely even think - but that was alright, he didn’t need to. All he needed to focus on was the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a glove. Like you were made for it. Like you had been waiting for it.

Fucking him like your life depended on it. For all you knew the entire truck was shaking, but you didn’t care. Not now. Not when he was nestled so perfectly inside you, nudging up against your g-spot with each stroke in.

You would’ve liked to last longer, but you just can’t. Especially not when he starts bucking his hips up to meet yours -fingernails digging deep into your skin as he leans forwards. Face buried in your tits, panting and huffing against your skin, downright whorish groans slipping from between his lips. He had needed this, you could tell. And well, so did you.

Your orgasm hits you hard, clamping down around him so tight that the grip on your hips nearly breaks skin. Strained whines muffled against your chest, drool and tears wetting the fabric of your shirt. You’re barely able to move, all but convulsing on top of him, but he fucks you straight through it. Iron grip on you as he fucks up into your wetness, begging you so desperately all the while. “P-Please- Please, can I- I’m gonna- Fuck- Pussy’s so tight. Please, baby-“ Incoherent. Just a babbling mess that’s drooling all over you - and it’s so cute. So cute, you’d have to be a much stronger woman not to give in.

“Yeah- Yeah, give it to me.” Choked out, eyes foggy as he fucks into your twitching cunt, fingernails scratching against your skin. You feel his thrusts grow more desperate, feel his hips jerk and his cock twitch inside you. Then, he’s cumming with a strangled groan - bringing his face further into your chest, clinging onto you like he’d die if he ever let go.

And well, you might’ve just lost your most loyal customer.

Good thing you’ve gotten something much better in return.

[koibitogata]

okay okay. dancing w the pasta hcs. how do they dance?? how shitty are they at it?? or good are they?? whos the best?? who would just spin you both in circles and count that as dancing?? (no nsfw pls!! minor anon here) IVE SEEN YOU SAY THAT YOU WANT REQS BUT IGNORE THIS IF THAT CHANGES!!!!

jeff

- knows NOTHING about dancing

- so you (attempt to) teach him, but he has two left feet and keeps stepping on you.

- he mutters quick but genuine apologies under his breath, and you forgive him.

- arguably the worst of the bunch at dancing.

ej

- surprisingly good at it

- in fact, he’s good enough to instruct you here and there, and understands what sort of dance is suitable for what kind of music

- if you can keep up with him, he’s actually good at the stuff

- but if you need to slow down, he’ll act as an instructor of sorts

slenderman

- the best by far at dancing.

- having been alive for ages, Slender possesses bits of trivia even scientists wouldn’t get their hands on for the next few decades to come.

- at his full potential, he could be mistaken for a professional ballroom dancer…except for the fact that he’s 3 meters tall and definitely could not fit into society.

- he even has his own collection of ballroom music to dance to.

BEN

- “isn’t that just stepping randomly together in the same direction at the same time?”

- he knows the definition of dancing…but cannot dance.

- actually ACTUALLY unironically thinks that whatever he said earlier is correct. you spend about 10 minutes debating over it before he finally agrees to it, albeit reluctantly.

- he ends up just spinning you in circles and counting that as dancing because he’s so against “spamming WASD”. (he means walking in circles together.)

- but a couple days after this, you catch him researching ballroom dancing.

tim

- grumbles a little at the beginning, but takes you in his arms nonetheless.

- takes very careful steps around your feet to make sure he doesn’t step on you. you suppose he at least knows where he can mess up, and takes care not to.

- he gets better at it as you go along, his steps getting a little less clumsy and hesitant.

- and by the end, you swear you catch him enjoying himself a little, a crinkle of his eye and a curl of his lip upwards.

brian

uses common sense through it all.

was never taught to dance, but can guess what it is.

his footsteps are light and surprisingly nimble for someone who claims to not know what he’s doing.

at the end of it, when he pecks you on the lips, you’re left wondering if he really didn’t know what dancing was.

toby

an absolute disaster of two left feet and a palm on the floor. which is what he actually thinks you’re asking him to do—breakdance.

“…Ballroom dancing?” he repeats after you like it’s a foreign phrase.

it’s going to be a long day, you think to yourself, as you take his trembling hands in your own.

by the end, he’s stepped on you about 52 times.

[ieatedyourcrayons]

a lil ticci toby drabble

TW: mentions of blood and axes!

Toby is definitely an unhinged boyfriend. He doesn’t hold back on his personality or how he truly thinks of you.

“Ya’know i love you?” He mutters as he tilts your chin up with the blunt side of his axe that’s dripping blood. Him not caring about the scared look in your eyes.

Toby would be the type of boyfriend to bring you dead flowers a lot. not on purpose of course, he’ll get them while out on missions and or he’ll forget he got them, eventually it becomes y’all’s little thing.

not my best as i’m very eepy 😴

[sister-lucifer]

First time anal but you've gone on and on about not wanting it in the ass, what do they do? 'wrong hole' they smile down at you n laugh as beg for em to stop but they just fuck your ass harder - Marc

cw: noncon anal, bully toby, afab reader but no gender specified

toby

toby would do this

not only is his brain just a liiiitle porn rotted, he doesn’t really understand how that sort of thing would feel.

he’s giggling at you the whole time too, watching the look of realization come over your face as your teased, swollen cunt is left untouched but youre suddenly unbearably full. he’ll push your head down hard into the mattress to keep you from squirming out of his grasp, his other hand being used to roughly rub circles into your throbbing clit. he’s purposefully angling his hips to make sure he hits as deep as he can. you’re desperately gripping the pillow beneath you as he grabs roughly at your hair, keeping you down.

“aww, c-come on, it’s not that b-bad,” he taunts with a giggle, “stop being s-sss-such a crybaby and l-let— lemme enjoy this…”

[iamzer0]

Hey in your fandom box it said you wrote for creepypasta and I was wondering in a yandere au with ticci toby how would he fair with a wendigo darling

Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Tɪᴄᴄɪ Tᴏʙʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ Wᴇɴᴅɪɢᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

A/n: can be read as platonic or romantic.

Toby thought you were the most amazing thing he had ever had the privilege of meeting.

He didn’t do well with normal people, thats why you were so perfect you weren’t human.

He was mesmerized by you, the way you moved, the way you changed forms, the way you stalked your prey.

He would do anything for you, he knew that you were bound to the forest.

So when people stopped coming to the forest on an account of all the disappearances, he started to take bodies to your forest to keep you feed and alive.

He was a very paranoid person, and was always worried for your safety.

Despite you being like 2 feet taller than him, he was always worried about you.

You liked him because he wasn’t afraid of you, in fact he praised you. Treated you like royalty.

The only thing was his possessive tendencies, you would kill maybe one person at a time but he killed everyone that entered the forest which naturally drives people away from your forest.

You were annoyed with this, he drove everyone away from your forest.

He would try and keep you in the cave you stayed in during the day.

When you protested he resorted to less than friendly methods to keep you in your cave.

He only did what he thought was ‘protection’.

Anyway sorry it’s so short I hope you liked it! I love u all so much bye byeヽ(*＾ω＾*)ﾉ

[kiradrabbles]

"fucked in both ways", ticci toby x athlete reader fuck or die drabble

this was requested on my a03!

cw: noncon, brief mention of sh scars!

kinks: outdoors sex, noncon, toby is dominant and rough, he degrades you a little, fear play, he chases you, that type beat.

In hindsight, taking a walk in the woods at night was a horrible idea, but at the time it felt like a good one, your arms and legs had been burning from training and what better than a relaxing evening walk to calm you down. After all, what could go wrong?

A lot. A lot could go wrong.

It all started off well, at least. The only sounds you could hear were the crunching of the autumn leaves under your feet, and the sound of the birds and wildlife chirping. It was nice, relaxing even. Always nice to get out of the city, to breathe fresh air.

Until you started to get paranoid. It's not hard, alone in the woods, to convince yourself something was going wrong. Odd cracking sounds that weren't from you, footsteps behind you, rustling and a quiet voice.

You were just being paranoid, you told yourself. It was just birds fluttering through the trees, a little later at night than usual. It was just the fauna, the deer, perhaps a rabbit. just your imagination running wild.

It was only when an axe came screaming towards your head that you re-evaluated, deciding there was, in fact, someone following you.

Somehow you managed to duck out of the way just before it thudded into the tree a few inches beside your head.

Before you even processed it you had set off running, legs moving faster than your thoughts.

You felt a hand grab you, yanking you back, coming face to face with a masked man. He looked to be wearing a mouthguard of sort, and a pair of scratched up orange goggles obscuring his eyes. His breath stank of iron as you both stayed silent for a second, both of you heavy breathing.

Untill you swung your leg back and kicked him in the shins, hard. And you knew damn well the kick would hurt, you were an athlete, having strong legs were your thing.

Nothing. No reaction. If anything the man squeezed your shoulder tighter, jerking his head and letting out a laugh.

"Nuh-nice try" He grinned under the mouthguard "Can't feel pain."

In the heat of the moment, you weren't sure how, you managed to pull yourself away, throwing his arm back at him. And you ran, oh how you ran.

You ran until you felt your legs shaking, ready to give out, blood burning as you took heaving breath after heaving breath. You collapsed and leant against a tree, throat dry as you took in gasps. Surely you had lost him.

You didn't know where you were, you couldn't risk calling for help.

"I'm fucked" You groaned under your breath.

"In more ways t-than one" That voice said, and suddenly, you were tackled to the ground.

You weren't sure where he'd come from, all you could focus on was trying to get up, thrashing and kicking at him. You couldn't tell if any of your feeble attempts at punches (your coach would be dissapointed) landed, even if they did it wasn't like he could feel them.

Finally you stopped as he shoved a knee between your legs, arms pinned over your head with both hands as he stared down at you.

His goggles had been pushed up, revealing a pair of deep brown eyes, that despite the eye bags, would almost be pretty if not for the rest of his face. A lot of his skin, especially on the left of his face looked scarred and rough, all convoluting on a massive gash on his cheek, going through to the gums and teeth. His hair was matted and looked like it hadn't been brushed in.. a while as he stared down at you.

"P-please don't hurt me?" You managed out after a few seconds of silence, fear overcoming your pride.

He was silent for a few seconds, before he laughed, neck jerking to the left. It didn't serve to make you feel much better.

"See, heres the - wow! - heres the thing!" He spoke "N-normally i'd kill you f-for trespassing on it's land, a-and make it slow too, suh-since you made it such a pain in the ass."

A few painfully slow seconds passed "…but?"

"You're pretty." He let go of one of your hands, staring at you as if daring you to move it, and ripping off one of his gloves with his mouth, spitting it onto the forest floor a few inches away from you. You finched, and he grinned wider, seeming to enjoy it as he cupped your face.

His hand was rough and callous, and you could see scars on his fingers, almost looking like bite marks along the tips, barely healed up. "A-and i've got a weakness for p-pretty girls. Never got them as a kid, i-i mean look at me" His neck jerked and he inturrupted himself with a laugh "I-i digress. W-what'll it be cutie, fuck, or die?"

"..fuck" You managed, deciding that it couldn't be worse than death.

He didn't even wait to hit you with an 'i told you so', slamming his body into yours, his lips - at least, the majority that was still there - into yours, teeth clashing, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like copper, and something else you couldn't place. You weren't sure if you wanted to know.

He didn't wait, either, to shove his hands under your shirt and squeeze your breasts roughly. And as much as you hated yourself for it, you moaned slightly into his mouth.

He grinned into the rough kiss, taking that as if it meant you enjoyed it, continuing to squeeze, moving one of his hands and squeezing your nipple as you whine into him.

"yuh-you want it, don't you?" He almost purred, goading you, breaking away from the kiss, a few strings of saliva still connecting your mouths.

You stare up at him, almost speechless. After a few seconds you manage to respond. "No-" panting slightly from the kiss.

"L-Liaar" He crowed smugly, removing one of his hands from your shirt, yanking your trousers down. You felt your skin prickle at the sudden cool air from the forest, suddenly exposed to the wind and his prying eyes. And they were prying, alright. The way he stared, you'd think he'd never had sex in his life.

He finally stopped staring as he did the same to your underwear, before pushing his index and middle finger right into your pussy, as you clenched at the sudden intrusion. Fuck, they slid right in. You were wet.

And you felt it, too, now that attention was brought to it. a shameful need in your cunt. The slick from your hole almost dripping onto his hand, down your thighs, onto the forest floor. fuck.

You almost whined as he removed his fingers from your cunt, feeling the emptiness. You clamped your mouth shut, not letting any noise out. You weren't supposed to be enjoying this. But despite yourself, you wanted It. You wanted this- this man who'd tacked you, who'd said he'd kill you. You wanted him to fuck your brains out.

You sat up a little, leaning on your elbows as he pulled back, watching as he struggled with the belt buckle, listening to the metal clink.

His cock was painfully hard, almost straining through his gray boxers as he pulled them down too, cock springing up, pre-cum dripping from the tip as he leant over you. His thighs were lined with scars and bruises, and you almost felt bad for him.

You didn't have long left to feel bad, however, as he positioned himself obove you, grinning wildly, a little saliva dribbling from his mouth. He pressed his tip against your hole, and you tensed up, preparing for him to enter you. but.. nothing.

You reopened your eyes, staring up at his smug grin, a little of his matted hair falling over his face.

"Tuh-tell me you want it"

You squirmed a little at the request, cheeks heating up in embarrasment at the thought, and he grabbed your arm, squeezing hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint bruises tomorrow. He pressed you against the rocky ground.

"c'mon, you know you- you know you want it" He growls "Y-you wanna get fucked by a stranger like a fucking whore d-don't you. C-come on."

"Fine!" You gasp quietly, squirming a bit more, hips bucking up with the need for stimulation. "P-please? i want you to fuck me"

He did not wait to bottom out inside of you, shoving into you, his bony hips meeting yours.

"fuh-fuck" He groans, the sound of his hips stuttering against yours, a rhythmic slapping, echoes through the forest. God, you hoped no one was hiking….

He lowered himself over you leaning in for another kiss, his lips scraping yours. you found yourself kissing him back, moaning and rolling your hips against his, in time with his thrusts.

Your skin prickled with sweat as the two of you , arms wrapping round his shuddering body, digging into his back through his hoodie.

fuck, this was fucking insane. and hot.

His thrusts began to get irregular and disjointented as he started to pant, breaking your kiss, strands of saliva connecting the two of you still.

"S-Scheisse" He cursed quietly through the pants as he continued to thrust, hips juttering against you. "Sh-shit, i'm going to-"

And he came. You could feel it inside you, his hot speed spurting inside of you. The two of you stood - or, more accurately - laid there for a second and radiated in each others body heat.

He pulled out and it dripped down your legs, landing on the forest floor.

his neck jerked as he stared at you, eyes raking appreciatively over your body, cum dripping out of your pussy, bruses up your legs and breasts, shaking.

"Hm. i-i like you." He grins "i think i'm going to - birdie! - going to keep you."

[f3arth3for3st]

Fuck You, I'm Chaotic: A Creepypasta Friend scenario series

"Ticci" Toby: First Interaction

Wordcount: 2,325 (2K)

"Ticci" Toby

The two of you met in the street when you had accidentally bumped into him when you were walking.

The souls of your shoes knocked agilely against the damp cement. It's coursed surface, tinted dark as the drizzle overhead dampened the hair atop your head that hung; low, avoiding eyes of passersby. The weighted plastic bag that constricted around four of your five fingers restricting the circulation that coursed the veins, thumb pressed firmly to the baggies folding crease, feathering over it in a sort of self-soothing manner.

You were used to the constant gas station runs at ungodly times and coffee scorched tongue. You rather enjoyed the change in scenery away from your house and the walls that felt as if they were suffocating you even when your parent's shouts stain the painted walls like a blood stain. 

You were a good kid.

At least that's what others have told you. 

You've never touched a cigarette within your seventeen years of life; you've never seen a reason to for the addiction you had developed was that of the smell of aging books and foxing pages that curled under your fingers as your enchanting eyes raked the words, soaking in every and any syllable printed along the organic vellum. Along with the brain buzzing symphonies that sang enchantingly through the miniature speakers that resided within a simple pair of earbuds.

Your home didn't feel homely but more of a cell you were forced to dwell within. You had learned to stay silent during their exchange in harsh words. You've adapted to pressing your spine as close to a wall as possible when they sauntered by; steps usually heavy; ladened with anger that always stained their sharp gazes, daring you to say or do something they deemed unfitting and out of line. 

But you never did.

Despite the ball that festered within the core of your throat and the twinging that clutched the coil of emotions that grew within the confines of your chest, taut against your ribs like a boa constrictor. But you would swallow thickly and cast your gaze to the floor, slipping away till you could no longer feel their fiery gaze that seared the skin of your back.

A shuddering breath fluttered your aching lungs as you released the breath you hadn't realized you were holding as the gentle winds that clinked the browning leaves together like tangerines and the rolling thunder that sang just below a mellow hum akin to that of a muted violin. Faint grey clouds cast overhead. 

If you glanced up, you would be able to see the layers that made up of the precipitation that gathered in the normally crystal blue vastness, it was intriguing to you, watching the lower clouds drift below the others, almost like a moving picture that was blurred every so often when a droplet of water washed over one of your pupils.

You were on your way back home after being sent on one of these said quick late gas station runs by your father which took longer than you anticipated since the card your mother had begrudgedly given to you had Insufficient funds which resulted in you having to pay out of pocket with your own allowance money, which put a rather harsh damper on your already somewhat souring mood considering it was just nearing dusk that cloaked the clouds above in a dreary hue, but when you stepped out, the sun had gone, casting the noon into a thick quilt of evening. Not that you could see it anyway.

The bell of the gas station's door rang behind you as it opened with a groan of obedience and Jeremy, the man who owned the small store bid a fairwell.

The upturn of your chin and lingering of your eyes caught that the air had turned angrier than before you last stepped out into the world. The sky that was lazily quilted in a thin grey was now thick and weeping silently. Small, almost microscopic tears rained from above. Not enough to be overbearing, but enough to be comforting like watching snow fall within the first weeks of winter. 

You hadn't tended to stay out long, especially after the aging reports of the teens that were bludgeoned to death not far from the high school you attended, reporters from neighboring news announcing their unfortunate and rather horrific deaths. 

A shudder rumbled your spine.

All of them, a quartet of adolescent teens although scattered in age and size; were stabbed umpteen times, but one had passed due to an overdose. The stories gave you chills when you listened to the passive warnings and advisories to make do with the little daylight fall brought followed by the extensive hours of night that had come sooner than you had wished. 

Another upcast of your eyes caught onto the inky silhouettes of the tree canopies that waved like a slow dance to your favorite song. 

The thought of music playing to assist the mingling browned leaves made your fingers itch, the tips tingling with the impulse to retrieve the white wired headphones that wrapped around the portable device that sat heavily in your hoody pocket, weighing it down like an anchor to a roaming boat atop settle waters. 

You were always warned by those around that it wasn't a wise idea to stroll about with earbuds in your ears, deafening and blinding one of your few senses that may save your life but alas; impulse won as you slowed nearing a halt. 

The coffee that rested warmly in the palm that lacked the plastic bag now rest, nestled protectively in the crick of your elbow, the bottom resting on your hip to assure it didn't slip from between the folds of your hoodie's loose material. The hand, unoccupied; ferreted around the pocket at your stomach, grazing against the firm material of the earbuds before gingerly pulling one out. Careful not to damage the delicate cords within the thick white casing that protected them. 

Unraveled, one slipped into your ear before the other took its place in the other, the elongated button that was mainly used for volume and phone calls sat achingly under your index finger as it gives a clickyou having pressed the button. 

It was like entering a whole new world away from what you were doomed to reside in. Each tone and groan of a cord made your mind swim with a sense of serenity, the sting of the coffee's solution made your tastebuds dance, the pirouette almost correspondent to the way the leaves swayed with the Zepher, you didn't need to remove the wired earbuds to hear the way the herbiage clicked together. It brought a smile to your dried lips. 

It felt...

Tranquil. Despite the weighted plastic bag that wrapped your fingers with a deadly vice.

Reality had slipped from your fingers for a moment, your legs ambling. One in front of the other. Your brain, so caught in the fantasy of arcadian music. That you had failed to notice the unmoved form that stood before you, seeming just as dazed and oblivious to the oncoming body as you were in this time. 

The heat of the caffeinated beverage that had unknowingly taken its place back into your palm sloshed in its restraints, the fragile thin plastic that entrapped the tongue numbing warmth split, dispelling the libation, splashing against the sensitive skin of your hand, as seconds passed the warmth spread, the sticky liquid soaking into the material of your hoodie, its tint turning a shade darker than normal as it sucked the caffeine like a dry sponge to water.

With an oof the tranquility your body had subjected itself to dissipated as a headphone fell, tugging on the other that tumbled after it, the cord taut as one clinked against the hard coursed cement, the bag that bound your deadened fingers seemed to grow light as it swung forwards, knocking into the others leg before the weight returned seeming heavier. 

You stumbled back as the other jolted forwards regaining lost balance, baffled. Enlarged eyes swam with panic as you immediately discarded your own comfort, reaching out to gingerly touch the others arm that was being used to regulate their teetering balance. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry dude are you alright?" You hissed, tone laced with concern and internal scolding as you stabled the poor soul you had collided with. 

He stood around your height, maybe even taller, maybe shorter, but no words fell from their lips. "I apologize man, I wasn't watching where I was going, I didn't spill anything on you did I?" You respond hastily, tone akin to desperation as the hooded man turned to look at you, deep brown eyes that peered calloused from beneath the hood resting over his head the illumination of a nearby streetlamp cast a soft glow to his abnormally tinted skin. The dark tufts of burnt chestnut hair that swept around the hem of the hood made it look even more illish, but those eyes. Those dark, desensitized eyes; glared. The orbs benumbed, senseless, and obdurate. You paused, taking notice of the almost deathly pale skin akin to grey was marred with old faded, and newer raised pinkish-white scars but before you could explore his features farther, he yanked away. Almost as if he had touched something hot. 

"Don' fuckin' touch me." He sneered; eye lids forced into a trained glare, his voice harsh and raspy, the bite behind the barking words and yank made your arm slump back to your side, knuckles brushing against the bag that sat at your feet, you having carefully discarding it to assure the man's comfort; which was widely unappreciated according to him. 

A puff of hot air snaked past your flared nostrils, brows following close behind with a harsh furrow, the physical contortion of your features seemed to have made his own sour as he scoffed turning back to the road glazed with the light drizzle. 

Your eyes rolled, a shallow whatever filtering your lips as you spun your hanging headphones around your palm, stuffing it haphazardly into the pocket of your coffee stenched hoody, the cup that once held the energy replenishing beverage now sloshed about with little to no contents; your interaction with the man looked to have officially come to an end when he stepped off of the edge of the sidewalk, walking for a moment before slowly progressing into a nimble jog as he crossed the road leaving you alone under the nearby lamp post that flickered ominously. 

"Who pissed in your Cheerios..." You grumbled under your breath before crouching slightly to retrieve the bag of gas station groceries before your eyes caught a particular item discarded; despite the increasingly darkening surroundings as day turns to night it was littered in rain droplets. Slowly, a long breath wheezed past your throat as the bag left the ground, the plastic slick with water as you extended an arm to retrieve the item. 

The round lenses were a faded orange, a few dark stained splotches littered the glass and outer part of the googles, it was heavier than you had anticipated, the thin cold metal resting against your sticky coffee splashed palms made them buzz with numbness as the weight grew. The elastic band meant to hold them to one's face now soaked up a good portion of rainfall that pooled in the palm of your hand that gleamed under the light of the streetlight.  

Upon closer inspection of the face article under the flickering sodium light, you noticed the shallow scrapes and scratches, a few deep lacerations in the metal made the pad of your thumb grow anxious as the impulse to run the flesh over the damage crossed your mind before being shoved aside by another thought. 

He must have dropped it during the collision. 

Although the man was an ass, he probably needed these for his welding projects or something among the sorts. 

Guilt knotted your throat as you straightened your posture, head turning, and eyes raking the surrounding streets to see if the man had come to retrieve his headgear but much to your dismay not another soul strolled the worn, water darkened cement. 

The contriteness that washed your thoughts were the voices of your home folk warning you, reminding you spontaneously that it was unsafe to wander with earbuds dug into your ear ducts. Warning about how you were oblivious of your surroundings and with the recent and rather constant disappearances or slayings of neighbor of different streets; it was especially dangerous. But for some reason the notion of chasing the man down to deliver his fallen gear whispered within the dark depths in the back of your mind, the voice almost canceling the one of reason. 

Just the simple thought of the instances snapped you away from the depths of your mind as you noticed the intimidatingly darkened streets that glowed with electricity. 

A chest swelling rumble from the sky made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as paranoia took its hold, the recent thought of possibly chasing the man down and give him back his belonging was thrown out of the window for the time being as you shoved the gear into your hoody pocket, weighing it down more than your phone had. 

The lightning that flashed overhead and the ominous shadows of the trees to your fear laced mind resembled that of spindly fingers and haunting tendrils curling and stretching to wrap you in their clutches. 

The bark of thunder and nearly blinding snap of lightning was enough to make your fear numbed muscles regain consciousness and comply with your desire to return home. 

With the rhythmic pound of your shoe souls against the cement that grew damper with the hardening rain that dampened skin and slicken the bag between your fingers you bounded swiftly towards the direction of home. 

You would have to return his goggles another time...

_______

Unedited

[dias-writing-corner]

Ticcijack toxic relationship cause it’s Halloween month

⚠️Tw: MINORS OK BUT DONT START SHIT - THERES NO NSFW - toxic ship, physical and emotional abuse, mention of cannibalism (it’s ej), dead dove do not eat, if you can’t handle these sorts of topics ignore this and scroll past.

“Why do I want to hurt you” Jack and “if you need to be mean be mean to me” Toby. Jack lashes out out of trauma from the cult or as I like to dub it “the accident” cause it wasn’t his choice to become the monster he is now. A half demon cannibal that loses his humanity with every human he eats to survive. He hates hurting others bc of his doctors oath (my version of ej he was just abt to graduate and had a hospital lined up to work in as he was the top of his class and while partying in celebration the night before they walk across the stage Jenny lures him into the cult fiasco that ruined him) and he especially hates hurting the person he loves. He can’t help it, sometimes Jack lashes out out of trauma and others out of hunger. He doesn’t like eating too often as he feels it strips him of what little humanity he has left but as a half demon Jack doesn’t have full control over himself when near starving. Onto Toby. He doesn’t feel the pain but it still shows on his skin and Jack always patches him up afterward out of guilt. Toby takes it cause he feels it’s his punishment for Lyra’s death (yes my vers he remembers) of which he blames himself for. The least he can do is take abuse from his lover to help make him feel better. Sometimes when Toby feels extra self destructive or self hating Toby will do or say something that triggers Jacks ptsd of the accident on purpose and cause Jack to harm him because of it. Toby always comforts Jack after he calms down from hurting him tho. Sometimes Toby does it to get Jack to bite him and eat a little piece of him linking the two of them together for the rest of Jack’s nearly immortal life. They’re messy ok I love them like that.

[system-network]

The Small Cabin

Trashy TV

The sound of the door creaking open forced your eyes to look up.

Another unknown man walked in.

The man had dirty blond hair, a small mustache on his face in the same color. He was definitely taller than the other two, he seemed more bulky as well.

He smiled down at you as he walked over to the bed you sat on. He had a small gap in-between his two front teeth.

He kneeled down next to the bed, much like how Toby did. “Hey kiddo,” he said with a smile.

“I know you're probably tired, but I'm going to help you to the living room. Is that okay?” He asked.

You nodded your head slowly, not verbally replying.

He didn't seem bothered by that fact, he just kept smiling.

The man helped you from the bed, holding onto you as gently as he could.

He slowly helped you walk into the living room, leading you to the old couch.

The whole house seemed old.

The wooden walls and floors didn't really help with the weather outside, some of the windows had blankets stabled to keep the cold out.

The couch whined in protest as you sat down, the cushions dipping underneath your weight.

The man with the beard was sat in the recliner that was moved to the left side of the living room, looking at the box TV that played a trashy reality show.

In his hand was a “#1 mom” mug with the number one crossed out and replaced with “#2”.

The sight was almost funny, you would have laughed if the other man didn't interrupt you.

“Toby said that your feet were messed up,” he started before looking up at you, “can I take a look?”

You nodded your head as the man gently grabbed your ankle and moved to look at your foot.

The silence was almost suffocating as the two men in the room didn't speak.

You finally spoke up, just needing to focus on something. “What's your name?”

“Tim,” the man on the recliner spoke as he got up. He grunted slightly as his bones popped before nodding to the man sitting in front of you, “that's Brian.”

“What's your name kid?” Brian asked as he pulled out tweezers from the first aid kit before he mumbled, “god- what did you run through..”

You shrugging slightly at Brian's mumbled words before telling him your name. He smiled slightly as you spoke before putting his focus back on your injured foot, he grimaced at the sight.

“This is going to hurt, kid,” Brian said apologetically.

Soon enough, Brian had gotten the glass out of your feet. You had no idea how you didn't feel the glass when you were running, you simply decided that it was the adrenaline.

Your feet had been wrapped after Brian made sure that he cleaned the cuts properly.

This was weird.

You're in the middle of nowhere, in a small cabin, with three grown men.

You couldn't help but feel uneasy, a growing pit in your stomach as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Toby walked into the living room, looking at you before getting distracted by the TV.

“Toby-” Tim started as Toby snatched the remote away from him.

Toby ignored the older man, switching the channel to TLC. “Fuck yeah,” he mumbled as he saw the opening to Say Yes to The Dress play.

He seemed to ignore your slight discomfort as he sat down next to you on the couch.

Tim sighed as the show began playing on the TV, he slowly got up from the recliner. He looked over at you and Toby before walking into, what you assumed, the kitchen.

Brian smiled down at you, quickly patting your shoulder before following Tim.

You looked back at the TV, it's been a while since you've watched this show.

The old camera quality and trashy audio was nostalgic. Every small thing seemed weirdly nostalgic.

The carpet on the floor, the loud air conditioner, and even the stains on the coffee table. It all seemed so similar.

Your hands clutched the fabric of Toby's hoodie you still wore, moving the fabric in-between your fingers. The hoodie felt worn down, like he's been wearing it for years on end.

That strangely comforted you.

You looked up at Toby, seeing that he was already looking at you.

“Y- you okay?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

You nodded your head as you spoke, “yeah, I just remembered how much I liked this show.”

It wasn't necessarily a lie, you did enjoy the show, you just couldn't remember when you actually saw it.

Toby smiled slightly as his left hand hit the couch cushion next to him before he turned his attention back to the TV.

[four-dogteeth]

After killing his father, Toby didn’t know where to go. He didn’t think he was going to do it. One of those spur of the moment things, always egged on by his friends in his head, the damn things never shut up. He couldn’t stay. The fire was spreading, and he couldn’t help but worry for a moment about his mother. His poor, sweet mother, who didn’t leave him when she should have. She was hurting, but Toby, he felt he hurt worse.

He ran. Down the hill and farther then, until he could barely breathe. Blood coated the front of his jacket with the weird striped sleeves his sister had got him. Blood on his jeans. Even his shoes. He found the nearest library and took his jacket off and cleaned up in the bathroom. Enough that you could barely tell that he was running from a murder. His fathers murder.

In the mirror, he noticed the small slit in his cheek from the car crash. Reconstructive surgery was supposed to be performed when he healed a little more due to the nature of the injury. Now he could see his teeth, also chipped, and his tongue when he opened his mouth. It was gnarly, and it made him recognizable. So would the heavy bandaging on his arms, making his hands lije clubs. They felt heavy.

On the bus, Toby naps most of the time. He rides to the other end of town and walks even further in the dark. He can’t feel the cold but he can feel the tightness building in his ankles from the long walk. Adrenaline long worn off, he’s so tired he can barely keep upright. He finds a motel and approaches the front desk, where a man with dark eyes and a tired voice asks,

“Can I help you?”

Toby freezes. He doesn’t have any money and he doesn’t know why he stopped here. His wallet was in his room and he hadn’t been thinking clearly in his escape.

The man huffs. “Do you need a room or not?”

Toby blinks, again, and tucks his hands behind his back. “I don’t have any money,” he blurts, neck twitching, and he watches the awkward way the man stares too long.

“Well, if you don’t have money, I can’t help you, bud.”

Toby doesn’t say anything right away. He knows this man can’t just give away a free room. But he’s terrified of being caught. Going to jail. He couldn’t help it, he needed it. He needed to teach his father what pain meant, real pain. His pain.

He nodded, slowly, and stepped back outside. He noticed a man standing outside, not too far away, smoking. Toby didn’t smoke often, but he did from time to time and the stress inside of him was too much to stand.

“Think you could spare a cigarette?”, he asked once he was close enough. Blunt. To the point. The man was bathed in shadows, but he has sloppy black hair that hung in uneven chunks around his head and a pale hoodie on. It looked like there sas something on his face, but he wasn’t certain. The lighting was just too poor.

He twitched, but the man didn’t pause in his movements to flick the box open and hand one over. He lit it, too, barely looking over at Toby, just staring right ahead. Toby inhaled, and the man finally spoke.

“You’re running from something.” He stated it. It wasn’t a question. Toby opened his mouth to speak, but the man interrupted him. “It’s obvious. There’s stains on the knee of your jeans, I can see the bandages on your arms, and you look exhausted. There’s something you’re running from.”

Toby didn’t say anything. He just puffed his cigarette, wondering who this guy thought he was and why he was saying that. Even if he knew, why make Toby squirm? He didn’t seem bothered. It didn’t seem like he was going to turn Toby in, at the very least, so he didn’t understand why he was messing with him. He let the silence stew.

Eventually, the strange man stomped the cigarette out as it reached the but. He sighed. “You’re an idiot to not change your clothes, you know. You’re making it so obvious.”

So he knew it. Toby was a murderer.

[noctiva]

Thinking about desperate sex with Toby, just clawing at him, pulling his hair, legs wrapped around his waist with his pathetic whimpers in my ear 🤤

This always happened every time Toby was away for an extended period of time.

You’d think that a long mission would leave him drained, that he’d be falling into a heap of tired limbs the moment he stepped through the door.

You’d think he’d need at least a day to recuperate before putting his body through anything strenuous again.

That was never the case. You’ve started to expect it. The sound of the door creaking open was like a warning shot - giving you a few seconds to brace yourself before he was all but attacking you.

Blood and gore still caked to his skin and matted deep into his hair, he was on you before you could even greet him. Fingers locking into a firm grip on your hips, his head diving downwards to nose into your neck. Breathing in deep like your scent was sweeter than oxygen, moaning into your skin like you had just offered a full course meal to a starving man.

Maybe that’s what he was, and maybe you weren’t much different. Your skin missed the grooves of his fingertips, missed how his body slotted against yours like you were two halves of the same whole.

So when he comes at you with desperation, you return it in kind.

You’re half naked before he even gets you to the bedroom. Clothes strewn across the living room floor, leaving a breadcrumb trail to the site of absolute depravity. Teeth knocking against his from the forces of his kisses, spit smearing against your chin, his stubble scratching your skin raw.

He doesn’t let his hands leave your body for even a split second, like doing so would physically wound him. When your back hits the bed he’s following you right down, toppling onto you with all of the grace of a dog in heat - one hand tugging at your panties and the other one pulling your bra strap down. Needing you bare. Like the sight of your naked body was just as essential to him as air to breathe

You get him undressed just as quick. Shoving his jacket down his shoulders, practically ripping his hoodie off of him. When he has to let go of you to get his arms loose from the fabric - he growls in frustration. Drool glistening on his lips when he dives back in, snarling a desperate bite into your shoulder. Near offended by the sight of your skin so unblemished.

It’s a blur. A whirlwind. Vision hazy and hearing sounding muffled when he tugs your hips close to his. Eyes rolling back when he finally sinks his cock into you.

Quick, like he’d lose an hour off of his life for every second he wasn’t inside you. Whining into your ear, his breath hot when it hits your skin.

“L-Love you- fuck- You- So p-perfect, baby-“ Downright incoherent, words slurred together and broken up by moans, his face smushed into the crook of your neck as he chants your praises. You’d swear you could feel tears wet your skin.

His hands splay against your ass cheeks, keeping you nice and spread open as his hips snap into yours over and over again. Pulling you back to meet each thrust, his breathing going shakier with each one he delivers to you. With your legs locked around his hips you move as one, gasp as one, fall apart as one.

Nails scratching down his back, painting him with red stripes he’ll marvel at in the morning. Crying into his ear, for ‘more, more’ and he was nothing if not devoted to your every wish.

Holding himself back by the skin of his nails, but it’s worth it when you fall over the edge first. Worth it when he feels your cunt clamp around him like you never wanted to let him go.

He’s clawing at your hips when he follows suit, peeling off thin layers of skin under his fingernails but you don’t care in the slightest - you pull him in closer. Tugging him in with a desperate grip on his hair, shuddering when you feel his hips stutter. Moaning like his pleasure was yours when you felt his cum warm your cunt from the inside.

And maybe - maybe - having to spend a few days alone was worth it, when this was how he said ‘I missed you’

[theeyoungalabastor]

Fuck you, I'm Chaotic: A Creepypasta Friend scenario book

"Ticci" Toby: First Interaction

Wordcount: 2,325 (2K)

Fuck You, I'm Chaotic: Masterlist

"Ticci" Toby

The two of you met in the street when you had accidentally bumped into him when you were walking.

The souls of your shoes knocked agilely against the damp cement. It's coursed surface, tinted dark as the drizzle overhead dampened the hair atop your head that hung; low, avoiding eyes of passersby. The weighted plastic bag that constricted around four of your five fingers restricting the circulation that coursed the veins, thumb pressed firmly to the baggies folding crease, feathering over it in a sort of self-soothing manner.

You were used to the constant gas station runs at ungodly times and coffee scorched tongue. You rather enjoyed the change in scenery away from your house and the walls that felt as if they were suffocating you even when your parent's shouts stain the painted walls like a blood stain. 

You were a good kid.

At least that's what others have told you. 

You've never touched a cigarette within your seventeen years of life; you've never seen a reason to for the addiction you had developed was that of the smell of aging books and foxing pages that curled under your fingers as your enchanting eyes raked the words, soaking in every and any syllable printed along the organic vellum. Along with the brain buzzing symphonies that sang enchantingly through the miniature speakers that resided within a simple pair of earbuds.

Your home didn't feel homely but more of a cell you were forced to dwell within. You had learned to stay silent during their exchange in harsh words. You've adapted to pressing your spine as close to a wall as possible when they sauntered by; steps usually heavy; ladened with anger that always stained their sharp gazes, daring you to say or do something they deemed unfitting and out of line. 

But you never did.

Despite the ball that festered within the core of your throat and the twinging that clutched the coil of emotions that grew within the confines of your chest, taut against your ribs like a boa constrictor. But you would swallow thickly and cast your gaze to the floor, slipping away till you could no longer feel their fiery gaze that seared the skin of your back.

A shuddering breath fluttered your aching lungs as you released the breath you hadn't realized you were holding as the gentle winds that clinked the browning leaves together like tangerines and the rolling thunder that sang just below a mellow hum akin to that of a muted violin. Faint grey clouds cast overhead. 

If you glanced up, you would be able to see the layers that made up of the precipitation that gathered in the normally crystal blue vastness, it was intriguing to you, watching the lower clouds drift below the others, almost like a moving picture that was blurred every so often when a droplet of water washed over one of your pupils.

You were on your way back home after being sent on one of these said quick late gas station runs by your father which took longer than you anticipated since the card your mother had begrudgedly given to you had Insufficient funds which resulted in you having to pay out of pocket with your own allowance money, which put a rather harsh damper on your already somewhat souring mood considering it was just nearing dusk that cloaked the clouds above in a dreary hue, but when you stepped out, the sun had gone, casting the noon into a thick quilt of evening. Not that you could see it anyway.

The bell of the gas station's door rang behind you as it opened with a groan of obedience and Jeremy, the man who owned the small store bid a fairwell.

The upturn of your chin and lingering of your eyes caught that the air had turned angrier than before you last stepped out into the world. The sky that was lazily quilted in a thin grey was now thick and weeping silently. Small, almost microscopic tears rained from above. Not enough to be overbearing, but enough to be comforting like watching snow fall within the first weeks of winter. 

You hadn't tended to stay out long, especially after the aging reports of the teens that were bludgeoned to death not far from the high school you attended, reporters from neighboring news announcing their unfortunate and rather horrific deaths. 

A shudder rumbled your spine.

All of them, a quartet of adolescent teens although scattered in age and size; were stabbed umpteen times, but one had passed due to an overdose. The stories gave you chills when you listened to the passive warnings and advisories to make do with the little daylight fall brought followed by the extensive hours of night that had come sooner than you had wished. 

Another upcast of your eyes caught onto the inky silhouettes of the tree canopies that waved like a slow dance to your favorite song. 

The thought of music playing to assist the mingling browned leaves made your fingers itch, the tips tingling with the impulse to retrieve the white wired headphones that wrapped around the portable device that sat heavily in your hoody pocket, weighing it down like an anchor to a roaming boat atop settle waters. 

You were always warned by those around that it wasn't a wise idea to stroll about with earbuds in your ears, deafening and blinding one of your few senses that may save your life but alas; impulse won as you slowed nearing a halt. 

The coffee that rested warmly in the palm that lacked the plastic bag now rest, nestled protectively in the crick of your elbow, the bottom resting on your hip to assure it didn't slip from between the folds of your hoodie's loose material. The hand, unoccupied; ferreted around the pocket at your stomach, grazing against the firm material of the earbuds before gingerly pulling one out. Careful not to damage the delicate cords within the thick white casing that protected them. 

Unraveled, one slipped into your ear before the other took its place in the other, the elongated button that was mainly used for volume and phone calls sat achingly under your index finger as it gives a clickyou having pressed the button. 

It was like entering a whole new world away from what you were doomed to reside in. Each tone and groan of a cord made your mind swim with a sense of serenity, the sting of the coffee's solution made your tastebuds dance, the pirouette almost correspondent to the way the leaves swayed with the Zepher, you didn't need to remove the wired earbuds to hear the way the herbiage clicked together. It brought a smile to your dried lips. 

It felt...

Tranquil. Despite the weighted plastic bag that wrapped your fingers with a deadly vice.

Reality had slipped from your fingers for a moment, your legs ambling. One in front of the other. Your brain, so caught in the fantasy of arcadian music. That you had failed to notice the unmoved form that stood before you, seeming just as dazed and oblivious to the oncoming body as you were in this time. 

The heat of the caffeinated beverage that had unknowingly taken its place back into your palm sloshed in its restraints, the fragile thin plastic that entrapped the tongue numbing warmth split, dispelling the libation, splashing against the sensitive skin of your hand, as seconds passed the warmth spread, the sticky liquid soaking into the material of your hoodie, its tint turning a shade darker than normal as it sucked the caffeine like a dry sponge to water.

With an oof the tranquility your body had subjected itself to dissipated as a headphone fell, tugging on the other that tumbled after it, the cord taut as one clinked against the hard coursed cement, the bag that bound your deadened fingers seemed to grow light as it swung forwards, knocking into the others leg before the weight returned seeming heavier. 

You stumbled back as the other jolted forwards regaining lost balance, baffled. Enlarged eyes swam with panic as you immediately discarded your own comfort, reaching out to gingerly touch the others arm that was being used to regulate their teetering balance. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry dude are you alright?" You hissed, tone laced with concern and internal scolding as you stabled the poor soul you had collided with. 

He stood around your height, maybe even taller, maybe shorter, but no words fell from their lips. "I apologize man, I wasn't watching where I was going, I didn't spill anything on you did I?" You respond hastily, tone akin to desperation as the hooded man turned to look at you, deep brown eyes that peered calloused from beneath the hood resting over his head the illumination of a nearby streetlamp cast a soft glow to his abnormally tinted skin. The dark tufts of burnt chestnut hair that swept around the hem of the hood made it look even more illish, but those eyes. Those dark, desensitized eyes; glared. The orbs benumbed, senseless, and obdurate. You paused, taking notice of the almost deathly pale skin akin to grey was marred with old faded, and newer raised pinkish-white scars but before you could explore his features farther, he yanked away. Almost as if he had touched something hot. 

"Don' fuckin' touch me." He sneered; eye lids forced into a trained glare, his voice harsh and raspy, the bite behind the barking words and yank made your arm slump back to your side, knuckles brushing against the bag that sat at your feet, you having carefully discarding it to assure the man's comfort; which was widely unappreciated according to him. 

A puff of hot air snaked past your flared nostrils, brows following close behind with a harsh furrow, the physical contortion of your features seemed to have made his own sour as he scoffed turning back to the road glazed with the light drizzle. 

Your eyes rolled, a shallow whatever filtering your lips as you spun your hanging headphones around your palm, stuffing it haphazardly into the pocket of your coffee stenched hoody, the cup that once held the energy replenishing beverage now sloshed about with little to no contents; your interaction with the man looked to have officially come to an end when he stepped off of the edge of the sidewalk, walking for a moment before slowly progressing into a nimble jog as he crossed the road leaving you alone under the nearby lamp post that flickered ominously. 

"Who pissed in your Cheerios..." You grumbled under your breath before crouching slightly to retrieve the bag of gas station groceries before your eyes caught a particular item discarded; despite the increasingly darkening surroundings as day turns to night it was littered in rain droplets. Slowly, a long breath wheezed past your throat as the bag left the ground, the plastic slick with water as you extended an arm to retrieve the item. 

The round lenses were a faded orange, a few dark stained splotches littered the glass and outer part of the googles, it was heavier than you had anticipated, the thin cold metal resting against your sticky coffee splashed palms made them buzz with numbness as the weight grew. The elastic band meant to hold them to one's face now soaked up a good portion of rainfall that pooled in the palm of your hand that gleamed under the light of the streetlight.  

Upon closer inspection of the face article under the flickering sodium light, you noticed the shallow scrapes and scratches, a few deep lacerations in the metal made the pad of your thumb grow anxious as the impulse to run the flesh over the damage crossed your mind before being shoved aside by another thought. 

He must have dropped it during the collision. 

Although the man was an ass, he probably needed these for his welding projects or something among the sorts. 

Guilt knotted your throat as you straightened your posture, head turning, and eyes raking the surrounding streets to see if the man had come to retrieve his headgear but much to your dismay not another soul strolled the worn, water darkened cement. 

The contriteness that washed your thoughts were the voices of your home folk warning you, reminding you spontaneously that it was unsafe to wander with earbuds dug into your ear ducts. Warning about how you were oblivious of your surroundings and with the recent and rather constant disappearances or slayings of neighbor of different streets; it was especially dangerous. But for some reason the notion of chasing the man down to deliver his fallen gear whispered within the dark depths in the back of your mind, the voice almost canceling the one of reason. 

Just the simple thought of the instances snapped you away from the depths of your mind as you noticed the intimidatingly darkened streets that glowed with electricity. 

A chest swelling rumble from the sky made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as paranoia took its hold, the recent thought of possibly chasing the man down and give him back his belonging was thrown out of the window for the time being as you shoved the gear into your hoody pocket, weighing it down more than your phone had. 

The lightning that flashed overhead and the ominous shadows of the trees to your fear laced mind resembled that of spindly fingers and haunting tendrils curling and stretching to wrap you in their clutches. 

The bark of thunder and nearly blinding snap of lightning was enough to make your fear numbed muscles regain consciousness and comply with your desire to return home. 

With the rhythmic pound of your shoe souls against the cement that grew damper with the hardening rain that dampened skin and slicken the bag between your fingers you bounded swiftly towards the direction of home. 

You would have to return his goggles another time...

_______

Unedited

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Ticci toby x gn!Reader

Wandering into the wrong woods.

warnings!: mentions of axes, blood, and violence

You got bored and wandered out to the woods by your house. You’ve done this plenty of times, sometimes you’ll even take a book or some snacks with you and have some self reflection on a fallen tree.

This time you just brought yourself, not thinking much about it. As you walk through the woods the only noises are the sounds of nature and the sound of leaves and sticks crunching under your shoes.

You lose track of time and how far you’ve gone out, too lost in your daydreams and the imaginary scenarios you were creating in your head. Eventually you tune back into reality only to realize these woods look very different and dark.

Chills run down your spine as you come to terms with the thought that you’re lost, you turn around, not remembering if you took any drastic turns or detours to get here, mentally slapping yourself for not paying attention and getting lost in your head so easily.

Your racing thoughts were interrupted by a rough voice, “You-u-agh lost babydoll?” you quickly snap your body around and see a man standing a good amount of feet away from you. His body jerks and snaps, and he lets out a few little noises and sounds.

The man has orange tinted goggles pulled up on his messy brown hair, a blood stained tan and black hoodie with dark blue jeans that also appear to have blood and dirt caked on it, He has a stripped mask covering his nose and mouth, and the axe he’s holding to his side has blood dripping down it.

Your heartbeat picks up as your brain demands you to run, run as fast and as far as possible, but you don’t listen to it, “Uhm.. nono i’m fine..” you say, failing to sound confident. The man laughs at your poor confidence and fearful expression.

He takes a few steps closer to you, twitching and jerking his neck, each and every movement he makes sends shocks down your spine. “Hm is-is t-that so?” the man stutters out , almost like he’s mocking you.

“Yes. i’m fine. get away from me.” You respond quickly, the anxiety evident in your voice as you take a few cautious steps back.

“Oh-h darling.. i’m n-no-not going to h-hurt-ugh you” He teases as he points at you with his blood stained axe, his eyes are extremely dilated and bloodshot, a manic expression placed on his face. He thrives off your anxiety.

You end up backing up into a tree, finding yourself helpless as the anxiety keeps you frozen in place, you give up and let the tears fall , “Please just leave me alone!” You cry out in a pathetic attempt to keep him away.

The man laughs manically at your cries, “awh? s-some-one s-s-scared?” He says between laughter. You say nothing in return as you continue to sob.

“ugh, Gah! s-shut up already!” He screams at you, The masked man getting fed up with your stupid cries. He waste no time flipping his axe over the the blade-less side and knocking you unconscious.

You body falls limp onto the damp forest ground. Toby stands over your body, breathing heavy and shallow, he straps the axe to his belt loop and picks you up, dangling you over his shoulder with ease.

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

(Inspired by random post I saw like a month ago)

“We,” he gasps as your teeth nip at a tender spot on his neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this” he murmurs as he pulls away. You sit back on his lap, eyes trailing down to the prominent tent in his jeans.

Your gaze flickers back up to him, a devious grin tugs at your lips and you lean in close to him. The warmth of your breath fanning over his ear makes him shudder. You already know the answer to the question you’re about to ask, the intention get a rise out of him more.

“Tell me to stop then.”

[Daisuke, (eyeless) Jack, Toby, Sal, Larry…sighh the list goes on.]

[nymph-ette111]

Currently suffering from writer's block...I'm still working on the fic but I can't find the motivation to write anything ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌ maybe if I open up requests I can force myself to actually write something instead of just staring at my drafts for 15 minutes straight and then exiting the notes app with zero progress. I'll make a pinned post soon about the things I can and can't write ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ don't let me down guys.