!! mentions of guns and gunshots, detailed descriptions of violence and gore, fake out character death, wound fucking, brain fucking, penis in brain sex, brain creampie, head bashing, homophobic language, homophobia slur use, internalized homophobia, mentions of abuse, specifically masky bullies toby about his past with his physically abusive father, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, degradation and generally mean spirited dirty talk
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A horrible wet chop rang out, followed by a whoop from Toby. “I g-got the la-las-st one, Mas-sky!”
Masky turned back, mouth open, a “shut up, Rogers” ready to roll out of his throat when he saw it.
“Toby, watch out!” BANG!
The boy fell to the dirt, dark red glistening in the moonlight.
A feral scream ripped through Masky’s throat as he tore the head clean off of the woman who just shot Ticci Toby Rogers. Masky would never admit it out loud, but he was afraid in this moment. Slenderman could keep them from dying; Hoodie had tried a few times, and Rogers had had his fair share of accidents, but a gunshot wound to the head?
There’s just no way.
Masky dropped to his knees beside the corpse of his partner, hands shaking as he hesitated about what to do. What can you do in these situations?
“Rogers!” he hisses, shaking the smaller man. “Tobias, please!”
And then life, beautiful sound! Toby giggles, arms pushing into the dirt beneath him.
“I g-got you ther-there, didn’t I?”
"God damn you, boy!" Masky hissed, more venom than a viper spewing from his lips. He kicked the boy, to little satisfaction. Toby only laughed.
He couldn't feel it anyway.
"You were s-soooo upse-t, huh Tim? Thought I w-was dead, huh Tim?"
The masked proxy growls, a grin creept across Toby’s marred face as he pushed himself up from the ground.
“You know, T-Tim, now I h-ave th-three holes just like a r-real girl!” he taunts. “Bet you w-wanna fuck me n-now, huh?”
Toby continued his taunts and jeers. “You’ll f-feel less bad now-now, huh? Cuz I’m l-like a r-eal girl, and y-you’re not such a f-faggot when you fuck my ass-ss. I b-et my head feel-feels great. You should try-try it.”
The older man stops dead in his tracks. It was an interesting idea, sure-- but there was no telling how much damage it would do. A single gunshot to the head was apparently survivable, but could Toby's already muddled brain take his cock?
Masky jumps ever so slightly as the boy slides up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. "Come on, Tim. Think about how go-good it would be," he purrs.
He didn’t want to. He shouldn’t think about it, about thrusting in and out of his partner, fucking him hard, blood lubricating his hard cock and adding to the sensation— but god damnit if Timothy “Masky” Wright wasn’t a faggot freak who loved fucking the boy almost as much as he loved ruining his thin unfeeling figure. Being immortal and having CIPA meant the boy could take a beating. He often did. Masky abused that, so why would this be any different?
It was just another hole.
He turns, pushing Toby to his knees.
Just another hole.
Toby giggles in anticipation.
Just a quick fuck. Doesn't mean anything.
Masky fumbles with his belt buckle.
Never does. He likes girls.
He reaches into his pants, rubbing himself a few times to wake his dick up.
He likes girls. Not whatever sick shit this is.
“Fuck,” Masky groaned as he pulled Toby’s head back onto his dick. Toby squirmed and whimpered below, nerves firing all over his body.
Masky’s hands grip Toby’s face, fucking into his skull slowly, dragging out the sensation. “Shit, kid, this is even better than your ass,” Masky chokes out in a rare moment of praise.
Toby moaned in response, a sound so sweet and raw Masky could swear he’d died and went to heaven.
What the hell is he thinking? This isn't good. This is just stress relief. Shut your mouth, Tim.
Every nerve in Toby’s body is lighting up in ecstasy as Masky pounds into his brain. Every cry bursts from deep within his chest, pure pleasure ebbing through the parts of his brain still intact. Masky is not gentle despite the area being so delicate. He thrusts hard into the tissue, reaching the deepest parts of Toby’s skull.
He hates Toby. He hates his stupid voice, the way he never takes anything seriously. He hates his twitching, his stutters, how he moans and whimpers under him every time this happened, and most of all, Masky hates how he loves it.
So of course, he fucks harder. He hates that Toby can't feel pain-- he digs his nails into the soft flesh of Toby's face, jaw, cheeks, scalp, throat. No pain. Only ecstasy.
Toby's voice has always been high-pitched and raspy. Whiny, like some shitty greasy Midwest emo singer. It always got higher when Masky fucked him, and if you closed your eyes, you could trick yourself into thinking you were fucking a real, warm-blooded woman.
Masky didn’t close his eyes. Usually, he would. Usually, he’d try and pretend.
This time, he watched as Toby jerked and stuttered and twitched.
And this time, as he watches, as he recognizes the man below him, bleeding, pawing desperately at his crotch, he feels something snap.
Toby whimpers as something is hit. Bone hits bone as his skull knocks against Masky’s hips. Everything is on fire. His eyes aren’t capable of focus, his thoughts are scattered, his tongue won’t form words. All he can think is that he needs to touch himself right this very second.
He paws at his crotch as Masky fucks into him like an animal. He fumbles with his belt, with the buttons, desperate for release.
He doesn’t manage it. All of that requires motor skills that Masky is quite literally fucking out of him right now. He settles for grabbing at himself through his jeans.
“God, Rogers. You’re a fucking sissy-boy, huh? You moan like one,” Masky grunts.
Toby presses harder against his hand.
“You’re a fucking fag, getting fucked like this. Slut.” Toby cums in his pants as Masky tugs sharply on his scalp.
“Nasty little fucker,” Masky growls. Toby twitches harder, moaning as viscera is pushed out around Masky’s dick. "You better be grateful for how I fuck you like this, nobody else would want a nasty little fag-freak like you."
Masky pulled Toby off his dick, slamming his head into the nearest tree.
There’s a crunch as Toby’s nose breaks. Blood and goo spurts out of the hole in his head with the impact. He moans sickeningly.
“You just love being beat on like this, huh?”
What little is left of Toby’s vision is filled with stars. His ears are ringing, his stomach twists and clenches.
He can’t feel pain, so the damage only translates to ecstasy through his dick-scrambled brain. He moans, drooling, tongue limp and jaw slack. The bark of the tree leaves marks in his skin as Masky positions himself behind him.
“Bet you picked up some real weird kinks from your daddy huh? Some wires crossed somewhere, same way they fucked you in the head?” Masky held himself in one hand and pinned Toby to the tree with the other.
“How ‘bout after this is over you tell me who fucked you up better?”
Before Toby can process what’s being said, Masky pushes all the way in. He groans as he fucks into Toby’s skull like an unneutered dog, growling and panting and groaning. Thank god there’s no one around to see this save the dead eyes of the already dead victims, or else there would be no way for Masky to deny that he definitely is into men.
As Masky grows closer, Toby’s muffled whimpers are drowned out by him losing all sense of composure and chasing the pleasure like some goddamn hedonist.
Masky lets out a sharp cry as he finally hits his limit, cum mixing with blood and brain matter and spinal fluid into a gooey mess of a mixture. He thrusts a few more times then pulls Toby off with a sick pop. A squelch as a chunk of brain falls onto the ground, but then no other sound except their breathing.
Toby gurgles slightly, falling to the side. Tim’s juices leak out the back of his head and his eyes, mixing with the tears of sheer pleasure.
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