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[sorrowpoetry]

꩜ how i see tobias erin rogers

tw: scars

face claim is alexander arnold

— i definitely see him as a guy with a more softer face, but still masculine, maybe even a stubble when he’s too lazy to shave it

— unruly hair, he does not brush it unless it is absolutely necessary

— chewed up nails, sometimes he eats the skin off till it bleeds and doesn’t even notice until the taste hit his tongue

— loves layering up, it could be summer outside and he’d still be wearing a sweater, with two jackets over it, he can’t even feel the heat anyways

— same old converse he had for years, sometimes he changes it for boots, but just sometimes

— when i think of toby, i think of gloomy weather, forests filled with the small of rain, books and bears for some reason

— so i also think he likes to read and bears are his favorite animal #trustme

— he’s a coffee and cigarettes guy and smell like it, with a mix of freshly cut wood too

if i had to chose a song for him, it would be this

all rights reserved to sorrowpoetry, do not plagiarize, reproduce or translate my work.

[theamberparadise]

TW; foul language, physical fights, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, cheating accusations, arguments, breakup, RELIGIOUS THEMES

divider credits; @strangergraphics

Toby always forgot his keys.

[xrisen-phoenixx]

Desperate Mutt

Toby Rogers x GN!Reader

TW: It’s just straight smut, a little degrading language, use of puppy as a pet name, pathetic submissive Toby

Toby was damn near sobbing into your shoulder, cock desperately bucking into your hand. The loud music Jeff was blasting outside in the living room basically drowned out Toby’s whines, but he was still pretty damn loud. You look up at where he was burying his face into your shoulder, admiring how red his face was.

You had been purposely teasing him for pretty much this entire party, basically grinding against him, working him up until he was desperately begging in your ear to help him, which was how you got to where you are now, him desperately humping into your hand like a dog in heat. You moved your hand to play with his hair, giggling softly as he whined in response. You slowly stroked him, tracing the veins of his cock with your thumb. You gently tilted his head up to make him look at her. You smile as you see his eyes watering. Fuck, he looked so damn pathetic, it was perfect.

“You’re so loud, Toby. You want them to hear you? Hm?”

He shook his head no, tears streaming down his cheeks as he propped his hands on the door to keep from grabbing you. You pulled him into a kiss, making him a bit quieter as your hand continued to stroke him. You could feel his cock twitching in your grasp. You let go and pulled away, relishing in his sobs as he whined, his hands balling into fists against the door. You cup his face with the other hand, brushing his tears away, loving how much he was whining for you.

“Please- please I’ve been *click* good!”

He sobs once again, burying his face into your shoulder again. You start playing with his hair before you press a kiss to the top of his head. You reveled in this. You loved how he clung onto you desperately, no matter what you decide to do to him. It was just a wonderful feeling that went straight to your head. You basically pet him until he calmed back down a little more, and you wrapped your hand around his cock again, running your thumb over the tip of his cock, making him whine once again. You make him look at you once more, gently cupping your hand over his mouth.

“I need you to be quiet, okay puppy? Can you do that for me baby?”

He nodded, trying so hard not to be loud. Even if he did get loud again, you were prepared this time. You keep your hand clamped over his mouth as you began stroking him again. This time, you ease his jeans open and down just enough to watch yourself stroke him. You had been doing this for a minute now, so you knew he was beyond sensitive now. If he could feel pain, his cock would probably be getting sore by now. You kiss down his neck, rubbing your thumb over the tip of his dick while toying with him. You could tell he was trying so hard not to be loud, but he was still awfully whiny.

“That’s it pup, you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you Toby.”

You cooed softly at him, gently squeezing his cock slightly tighter. You moved to suck a hickey right where his shoulder and neck meet. He whined against your hands, his eyes becoming glassy and unfocused as he got closer to cumming. You kiss all the way up to his jaw, chuckling quietly as he whimpered in response, enjoying how he fell apart. You stroke him faster, listening to his whines getting higher pitched, and he finally came, his entire body trembling. You slowly stroke him through his orgasm, gently pulling his boxers and jeans and uncovering his mouth.

“There you go, that’s a good boy Toby.”

You press a kiss to his cheek, and clean up his cum that got on both of your jeans before dragging him out of the closet. You drag him back into the party, and he hoped they couldn’t notice the wet spot on both of your jeans and his red face.

[darlingdreadwrites]

park ranger fun

pairing: Ticci Toby x Masc!Park Ranger!Reader

summary: Every week, the same man calls you at work. Working as a park ranger was honestly starting to bore you. So, yes, you indulge the creep on the other side of the line.

contains: creepy calls, dom reader, masturbation, phone sex

warnings: 18+, not proof-read (got lazy, tell me if there's any mistakes), smut, stalking mentioned, name-calling, degradation

word count: 1,091

masterlist

a.n: im baaaacckkkk!! i know it’s short and not up to my standards but pls bear with me it’s been months since i’ve written anything to completion T^T. this is for the requests i get for a more obsessive toby AND a male reader <3 happy pride month!

Movies and video games have made it seem like you’d always be in danger as a park ranger. The most dangerous night of your life was some berry-poisoned idiot blowing up the only toilet in the vicinity. And, lucky for you, you had been the only idiot available to deal with it. You weren’t even allowed a gun , and you weren't too sure you wanted to climb any ranks for one. While there was always the threat of wild animals, you interacted with humans more than anything. Through a landline. Maybe you’d get a few emails, and – on a good day – you got to politely remind visitors of the fine they’d get for not cleaning up. No matter how polite you were, you’d get yelled at by somebody.

So, when the calls started, you figured the other rangers were prank calling you. But nobody on your team sounded like him. His voice had a broken, lilting quality – like he was calling from a cassette tape. He’d stutter and snicker to himself without having said anything. You knew he was out there in the woods since you’ve heard branches cracking on his end. Once, you swore you heard him sniffle like he was crying, but you never questioned it. You were at that point where you didn’t ask questions about it anymore.

You know it’s dangerous. You know he’s probably – definitely – watching you. But there’s something about the way he talks, or the way his voice cracks when he laughs. How he sounds performatively confident when he has something daring to say, and how he whimpers when you reply with something that’s deniably flirty.

“Mmm, can I go fass-ster?” he breathes heavily through the line.

This was definitely not one of those moments, though.

“What’s the magic word?” Your tone rises while you tease, imagining how swollen the head of his dick is. You haven’t seen it yet, but your mouth still starts to water.

“Please-please?”

“No.”

He whines loudly, repeating you. “No?”

“Not if you keep interrupting me. It’s incredibly rude. I thought you respected me a little more.”

“Fuck you,” he says through clenched teeth.

You tut and shake your head as if he could see you. “That’s not how you address me.”

“Fuck—you—sir.” he chokes out.  

Your laugh comes out as a huff. “Now, as I was saying, those polaroids were a pain in the ass to take. I think my camera’s too bulky. Are you enjoying them?”

“Oh, yes, t-too much,” the stranger replies. “Have them all-all laid out right huh-here.”

You’d worked out a deal with him – if he helped clean the area, you would provide him with pictures of yourself. They weren’t scandalous or anything, just a couple neck-down shots of you in your uniform.

“How intuitive.” You pause. “Why don’t you start stroking a little faster for me?”

His thanks comes out in a loud moan, you hear his breathing accelerate. You go back to imagining him in this moment. Is he standing? Barely keeping himself up against a tree as the bark scratches against his back. Is he kneeling? His parted knees would be digging into the damp soil, going just a little deeper as his palm glides rhythmically – or frantically.

His head must be tilted back, “Ah, ah.”

“God, you’re so loud.” You say with a smile. “Dude, I think if I put my phone down I’d hear you.”

“I n-need you he-ere with me,” he stutters.

“And do what? You think I’d go anywhere near you – let alone touch you? Some creep in the woods?”

“I want to—want to fuck your face.” Seemingly disregarding what you’d just said.

“Fuck, man, that’s disgusting.” You laugh. You think of whatever the fuck you did today to end up here.

The receiver picks up his whimpering along with a squelch that should have you gagging. Instead, your mind is on which of your photographs his cum will drip on.

You can’t help the groan or how your eyes close. “Fuck.”

“Are you jerking off too?” It sounded so clear, like he was right in front of you.

“You think I’m some pervert like you?” You say through a laugh, opening your eyes again. Truth was, you were almost there. You’d had to adjust your pants because of your erection a million times now. You just couldn’t risk the embarrassment or afford the lawsuit if anyone came in, as much as that possibility was low. “You’re the only one here desperate enough to jerk off to someone’s voice.”

“I should really bash your—bash your fucking f-face in.”

“I’d actually feel threatened if you didn’t sound like a whiney bitch.”

His end went silent for a moment. “C-close.”

“You gonna cum?”

“Yesss-ss” he slurs. “Say my name, please, sir.”

“I don’t know your name, you freak.” You should really be more ashamed of that, you think.

He’s nearing incoherence but manages to blurt out what you think is “Toby.”

“Toby?” You ask slowly, and he confirms it with a stuttered “Fuuccckk.” You continue to urge him on like one would a dog. “You wanna cum, Toby? C’mon, Toby, cum for me. You can do it, boy!”

He goes silent again. Your grip on the telephone’s neck tightens as you press it against your ear. It’s like you’re planning on phasing through the phone. His sobs come out stuttered, which are followed by quick pants. You’re sure he must’ve worked up a sweat. You smile to yourself.

“Well, that was fun—”

The line clicks and the loud dial tone startles you enough to drop the phone. The fuck?

You quickly pick it up again. “Hello? Hello?”

Nothing.

What a dick, you scoff internally.

Doesn’t matter, your eyes land on your watch, and it’s time to go home. It’s impossible not to think about your stranger – Toby – as you pack your things. Your theory that he had actually been a fellow park ranger was crushed now, but that was probably for the best. You hope the phone lines weren’t being recorded. You decide to leave your paranoia for another day. Your car was just up ahead, and you can almost feel the water from the shower you would take the second you got home.

You sigh; the seatbelt clicks into place. You insert the key into the ignition and are ready to turn it, but your eyes land on something next to you. You can almost feel your heartbeat in your throat.

One of your photographs – decorated with dirt and encrusted with something undeniable.  

[thepinkinsalsmask]

Hey i know this is like super weird but like the different proxies t!tfu€king…? I totally understand if you’re uncomfortable with it!! i just think it’s super hot and a good idea..

Not weird of all ml! I see the vision!

Tw: F! Reader since it wasn’t specified!! Oral M! Receiving, may be a tad OOC i need to find my writing mojo again, kissing? Dom! Masky, Switch! Hoodie, Sub! Toby, smut smut smut!! P in V! Mommy kink for Toby! minors DNI!

Tldr: The proxies with titfucking!

Masky 🚬

It’s 2 in the morning- The soft moonlight creeps through the curtains as you toss and turn in the bed thats a bit too empty tonight. Tim was given a little side job by his boss last minute, leaving you half asleep and yearning for the warmth your boyfriend tends to give off. That was hours ago though.

A soft click is heard from downstairs, causing your heart to pick up ever so slightly. It could have been Brian, as Tim frequently sent him to check in on you when he was away for an extended amount of time. Or maybe Jack, seeking somewhere to lay low just for a bit? Your thoughts are silenced when the musky smell of cigarettes lingers into the bedroom.

Soft footsteps make their way upstairs and stop in front of your door for a split second before they creak it open. In comes your boyfriend, sweaty, blood covered and crazy eyed. Clenched in his hand was a medal pipe, covered in blood which clattered to the ground with a slight echo.

“Baby-“ You start, shifting to turn and face his direction.

“Get on your knees…”

It was one sentence. One command, and the rough, manic tone in his voice soaks you to your core. Without a second thought, you get up from the bed and sink to your knees. To your surprise though, he grabs under your arms and effortlessly picks you up, setting you down onto the bed.

“Get on your knees.” He repeats, pupils dilated and chest heaving.

You shift your weight to sit on your knees, looking up at him with soft doe eyes, still partially asleep from when he came in. Clenching his jaw, Tim strips off his jacket, and starts to unbuckle his belt, “Shirt off.”

Before he was even able to slide the belt off, your shirt was bunched on the floor by his feet, eyes never leaving his face.

He strips out of his pants before climbing onto the bed, hand sliding into your hair and looking into your eyes. It was almost… sweet at first. His eyes meet yours, soft, gentle, he cups your face and leaves a soft peck on your lips before pulling back.

The look in his eyes shift. Almost feral. His hand tightens into a fist, entangling your hair causing you to let out a soft whine. “Tim..” you shift your head just barely, trying desperately to lock eyes with him but he yanks your head back and runs his other hand down your chest.

He grabs at the hot flesh over the silky bra you got on, down your side and back up, sliding his hand under the silky fabric and squishing the soft flesh between his fingers before pulling his hand back and releasing himself from his boxers. His rises to a half kneeling position with his other hand still in your hair before releasing aching cock from its confines, bopping you in the chest. He grabs hold and starts slowly stroking from shaft to tip, leaning up to run the tip across your lips before pulling back and sliding it underneath your bra inbetween the valley of your breasts.

Letting out a low groan, his head falls back and the hand fisted into your hair relaxes just a little bit. It was just enough for you to lean in and gently lick at his tip causing him to let out a low growl. He slowly rocks his hips, lolling his head to the side and gazing at you with almost a predatory look.

You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your plushy breasts closer together and sandwiching his leaking cock in between the two.

“Fuck..” He groans, hips rolling to a slow pace, “My pretty girl…” His hand moves from being knotted into your hair to the side of your face, running his thumb over your lips as you gaze up at him with lust filled eyes.

You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, his tip slowly rubbing against it with every upwards thrust.

“Fuck baby-“ He chokes out, hips bucking no longer to a rhythm, but to him chasing his high, “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum justlikethat-“ his words mush together as his hips stutter and with a low growl he paints your face and chest white, slowly rocking himself through his high.

You grimace before pulling back, “Timothy that was my favorite pair…”

Hoodie 🔫

Brian looks at you with his head cocked, a curious but skeptical look on his face.

“You wanna what?”

You were plopped down on your boyfriend’s lap in the living-room of your apartment during a heatwave. It felt like hell on earth outside right now and you were in nothing but a thin tee-shirt and shorts. “Titfucking Bri, i think you’ll like it..” you explain. You’ve been reading about it in your free time and the thought of it got your blood flowing.

You’ve been thinking on how to approach Brian about the topic. You knew he’s down to try everything at least once, you’ve learned that, so you decided to just… ask. You start to get a little shy, a soft red starting to creep up your neck.

He lets his hands drop to your waist as he turns you a little bit, facing you towards him. He was looking everywhere but you right now.

“I mean i’m down.” He shrugs, leaning in to gently kiss your cheek. You shoot him a cheeky grin before lowering yourself to the ground between his legs. Glancing up, the scene in front of you was just perfect.

He was already half hard and you haven’t even done anything yet, his face was flushed and his hands were planted firmly on both sides of him on the couch. Reaching up, you gently cup the growing tent in his pants, running your thumb over the obvious print. His hips buck with a small whimper as his head falls back, “Fuck, Angel…” he mumbles. The sound does nothing but egg you on.

Prying the pants off of him, his cock springs free, red, achy and swollen with need. You almost salivate at the sight. Starting at the base, you slowly lick a stripe up the bottom, ending at the tip and taking the weight of it into your mouth with a swirl of your tongue.

“Fuuuuuuck-“ Brian chokes out, his whole body jolting and his head falling back, “Keep- fuck keep going, please.” He begs.

You pull your shirt above your head before throwing it to the side in a haste. You take him into your mouth, purposely dripping spit down the side with it pooling on the couch, purposely making a mess, before pulling back and scooting closer, “You ready?”

He lets out a low whine, rolling his head to the side and looking down at you with lidded eyes. Leaning in, you cup your tits in your hand and bury his cock between them. His hips jerk involuntarily and both of his hands fly to your shoulder, “Shit!” He yelps, hips bucking over, and over, and over, low moans and profanities spilling from his lips.

“Fuck baby ‘s good.” He mumbles, “was a good choice..” he tampers off, the grip on your shoulders tightening and pace speeding up.

You shift to cage his leg between your legs before slowly rocking against him, trying so hard to ease the burning ache starting in your core and working its way up.

“Thats it baby just like that, thats my good girl-“ you weren’t too sure if he was talking you through it or himself. “I’m gonna come Angel- don’t stop please don’t stop-” He manages to choke out before his body stiffens and his nails dig into the soft flesh of your skin. You lean down to take his weeping head into your mouth last minute, a salty and bitter taste filling your mouth with a moan.

“Fuuuuuuuck…” his whole body relaxes at once as he leans back onto the couch and looks at you with a half dazed look.

Ticci Toby 🪓

Toby was a slobbering mess, pinned under you, hips wildly bucking with high pitched whines echoing through the room.

“Easy boy.” You coo out, holding him down with a hand on his chest. You slowly rock back and forth, reveling in the feeling of him filling you just perfectly, hitting every spot with every foreword rock of your hips.

“My good boy.” He arches underneath you and rocks in time against your own-

“Wan-Wanna f-fuck your pretty tits.” He slurs out, eyes only half focused and hands grabbing at everything they can reach of you, “P-please mo-mommy please.” He begs over and over.

“Fuck baby alright.” You mumble, slowly pulling off of him with a hiss before lowering yourself down the bed and perching yourself up by your elbows. Without hesitation, you lower yourself onto his throbbing cock and slowly rock your body foreword and back.

A long, low whine tears from his throat as his eyes roll back into his skull- “Thank you mommy.” He sobs, rocking his hips once again against your own rhythm to chase his high. You can hear the low crack of his neck over all the noise, the feral sob that rips out of his throat and the way the sheets crumple in his grip. His cock was slick with precum, your slick and slobber which made it glide through the valley of your breasts with little to no effort. You lean down to take the tip into your mouth, letting it pop out with every downwards rock he made.

“Wa-Wait imgonnacumwait-“ his back arches off the bed as he shoots thick ropes of white cum painting your face, chest, and his stomach. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath.

[chapelofteeth]

smutty yandere ticci toby?? 👀 or maybe b.e.n 👀👀

SMUTTY YANDERE HCS! ft. toby + ben

includes: ticci toby & ben drowned

content warning: explicit sexual content/language, humiliation, murder, obsessive behaviour, cruelty, posessiveness.

💭: thanks for the request, anon! c:

MAKE A REQUEST

🦷 TICCI TOBY

toby is not smooth about being obsessed with you at all

he gets twitchy and obvious, like he is trying not to stare but keeps doing it anyway, and sometimes it feels like he wants to crawl inside your skin just to make sure nobody else can get near you

if someone makes you laugh, his jaw goes tight immediately, fingers twitching near the handle of his hatchet, muttering under his breath like he is trying to talk himself out of doing something stupid, but the jealousy comes fast and ugly with him

he does not do quiet jealousy well, he disappears for ten minutes and comes back with blood on his sleeves, breathing too hard, acting like nothing happened even though his hatchet is still dripping somewhere outside

then the second you look at him again, he melts completely, all that anger turning needy in seconds, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty room, voice cracking when he asks why you were looking at them like that

sex with him is desperate and messy, like he still has adrenaline under his skin, like he came back from doing something awful and now the only thing keeping him together is your hands on him

he holds on like he thinks you will disappear if he lets go, shaking fingers gripping too hard, face buried in your neck, hips moving too fast because he cannot calm himself down once he has you under him

he gets loud when you call him a good boy. it breaks him every time, whining, begging, cursing, trying to act like he is not falling apart even though he absolutely is

he loves hearing his name when you are close. if you moan "toby," he gets this wild look and goes harder, asking for it again and again like he needs it more than air

afterward, he goes quiet and stares at the marks he left on you, bites, fingerprints, scratches, anything that proves he was there, like he does not know whether to feel guilty or turned on

he gets clingy after, arms locked around you, face pressed into your skin, muttering "don't leave" before he can stop himself

if you tell him you are staying, he goes soft all at once, still flushed, still breathing hard, still smelling faintly like metal and rain and whatever he dragged in with him

🦷 BEN DROWNED

ben is different because he does not even pretend to be ashamed

he thinks it is funny when he makes your phone glitch when someone texts you, your camera turn off for half a second, and your laptop freeze when you are talking to someone he does not like

he calls it "checking in," like that makes it normal, like you are supposed to find it cute that he is always there, always watching, always one black screen away from ruining someone’s life

his jealousy is quieter than toby’s, sharper too, someone flirts with you and their phone starts overheating, their lights flicker, their messages corrupt, their socials vanish one by one until it feels like they never existed

he does not need a hatchet to be scary, he just smiles from a screen while someone’s whole world starts breaking around them

with you, though, he gets smug and mean, little comments that make your stomach twist, asking if he should be jealous or if he should just make sure you forget their name

when he gets his hands on you, he likes dragging it out, making you frustrated, making you admit what you want, making you glare at him because you hate how badly you need him

he talks filthy against your thigh like it is normal, saying the nastiest things in that lazy, smug voice, like he is not still buzzing with the thrill of making somebody disappear from your notifications

he loves overstimulation because he likes watching you lose the ability to be mad at him, keeps going even when you push at his shoulders, then gets smug when you pull him closer instead

the eye contact he wants is intense in a way that feels creepy more than romantic, like he wants to watch the exact second your brain goes blank

he fucks slow at first. he's controlled and mean about it, then switches fast when he loses that control, rougher hips, tighter grip, voice glitching around your name

he knows things about you that no one else does, where you're sensitive, how you sound when you're close, what makes you beg, what makes you shake, and he uses all of it

afterward, ben acts casual like nothing happened, like he did not just ruin you, like there is not some poor bastard’s phone still sparking in a gutter somewhere because they smiled at you too long

2026 © all works belong to chapelofteeth. do not repost my work.

[catnip-plug]

You're fucked up (Ticci Toby x Reader NSFW)

guess who's back to post an old ass fic from YEARS ago. just bc.

as always: porn w/o plot, dom!toby, biting, dirty (weird) talk, toby is like a virgin, also he's a creep, reader is lwk fucked up (hey the title!), fingering, p in v, kidnapping, extreme dub con....

severe cw: this is super old and sucks!

The night was quiet, occasional crickets being heard outside your window. The cool breeze spread throughout your room; it was a hot day today. As was normal for the month of June. You were sleeping peacefully in the comfy sheets of your bed, in a deep slumber.

You didn’t notice the man leaping in through your window. You didn't hear the quiet, almost ghost-like footsteps as he approached your bed. You didn't even catch the faint giggle that left his mouth, nor the cracks of his neck as he jerked slightly.

No, what you felt was hands suddenly on you, rough but with a goal. Startled from your sleep, you immediately tried to shout, but your scream was cut short by a hand being slapped on your mouth. You bit down, but the hand did not retract.

Adrenaline coursed through your body, your fight or flight response kicking in. Nothing else was on your mind, nothing other than the need to escape and survive. But honestly, you weren't some skilled martial artist, or defense expert. You couldn't twist his arm with ease or hit him in a spot you know would hurt, although it seemed like your attacker had an insane pain tolerance, given he didn't even react to your bite. It took a clear head to do that, to defend yourself like that, and right now you didn't really have one. Could anyone blame you?

With the need to prevail, you thrashed around wildly like an animal caught in a net. Your muffled shouts hardly echoed through the room, pleas silenced by the choking force pushing down on you, suffocating. Dead. You were going to die here. That was a given. Lack of oxygen finally reached your brain, knocking you out slowly and painfully. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your room blurred and faded away.

Waking up was not so graceful. A painful slap struck across your face, surely leaving a red mark. It stung.

You couldn't say anything about your rude awakening, too shocked to form words. As your vision focused, a brown and orange blob began to take form in front of your eyes. It was a boy – no, a man, with unruly brown hair and bright orange goggles concealing his peering eyes. Oh, and a mouthguard shaped in the form of a smile. His face was effectively covered completely except for his sloped nose that curved slightly upward, which was currently too close to your face for comfort.

You instinctively moved your face back, hands about to shoot up to give even more distance between the man and yourself. But, a strain against your arms stopped any movement. Rope. You were tied, tight, with rough material that rubbed your skin raw with each wriggle. Even worse that you were sat the cold wooden floor with no chance of being able to stand, legs tied together as well.

"F-fff-finally awa-awake, huh?" The guy's voice startled you. It sounded shockly boylike, younger than the age you had pinned him to be. It was also heavily broken up with stutters that you couldn't ignore. His neck would crack violently, and his shoulder would roll, another thing you had to notice. He was staring at you, sitting on his knees in front of you, but your mouth felt dry, and there were too many words swimming around your head to form a complete sentence. When you didn't say anything, he tried again.

"Not muh-much of a ttt-talker??" His head tilted like a curious puppy as he awaited your response.

You swallowed before answering. "What—who are you?" Stick to one question at a time.

But it seemed he didn't feel like answering that one right now, so he simply stared at you again. Feeling frustrated, you spoke once more.

"What do you want?" Your voice sounded more frantic, more pressing.

"Well, I wuh-wanted tttt-to kill y-you," he said plainly. The smile on his mouthguard was starting to become his actual smile to your brain, and you could practically hear the smug grin in his voice. Your stomach dropped at his words, and you writhed in your restraints. But it only served to hurt you, to exhaust you more.

The man shook his head in an almost disappointed way. "Tsk tsk. If y-you keep muh-moving aro-around, you'll hhhh-hurt yourself," He chided, hands ghosting around your skin like he was making sure you weren't injured. Why does he care? What's going on?

His hands suddenly stopped, and he stared at you once more, like he was in thought. It was creepy.

"I www-was guh-going to kill you," he stammered, and beneath those goggles his eyes raked your form and studied your face, "but yy-yyou're quite puh-pretty."

Speechless, your eyes flew from his face to his too-near hands. In one swift motion, the man pulled up his goggles and pulled down his mouthguard. You didn't even get a moment to glance at his face before his head dipped forward, nestling into the crook of your neck.

He inhaled deeply like in a reverie. Immediately your whole body tensed, and you seemed to shrink into yourself, breath catching in your throat. What the fuck?

"A-and you sm-smell good, tuh-too." His head backed up, much to your relief, giving you more space to breathe. It was hard to, though, his words sending shivers of disgust mixed with fear down your spine. With him thankfully backing up, you could finally see his face in full detail. His features were young, betraying his age. He couldn't have been older than nineteen, with thin pink lips that were curved into a smile and thick eyebrows. His brown eyes had dark bags underneath like he hadn't slept in days, an eccentric look in his pupils that frightened you. But the most notable thing was the large gash on his left cheek. His teeth showed in gruesome detail, gums shining pink. All of your attention was drawn to that macabre injury, but not for long.

Again, without warning, the boy leaned in way too close for comfort, sniffing your scent. His warm breath washed over your neck, sending goosebumps pricking your skin. You were scared. Every muscle, every nerve, was tight, tense. You backed up more and more everytime his body pushed in closer and closer. He wanted to press his body flush against yours, and he didn't know why.

You tried to put some distance between you two, but there was only so much you could do with your limbs tied tight to your body. And now, you found yourself at a loss for words. Nothing was coming out, and you were subconsciously holding your breath, biting back any words that might have escaped.

The situation reminded you of a dog sniffing out an opossum playing dead. You were afraid that any bold movement might lead to something terrible.

When he pulled away, you were still taut. It didn’t feel safe to breathe yet. You watched him with a hawk-like gaze, keeping him in your vision at all cost.

"Yyy-you're really pret-pretty..." He murmured.

He peered at you, leaning his head in with a special kind of fascination, but you weren't fooled. You could see the twinkle in his eyes. It wasn't anything good.

Your voice sounded hoarse when you spoke. "What..." It was really all you could say. None of this was making sense, and the fear pulsing through your veins made it hard to think rationally. When he leaned in for the third time, you expected him to go for the neck again. But instead, his left hand rose up to cup your face gently. You flinched away instinctively, his fingers cold and clammy. And unexpectedly, he placed his lips on yours.

They were rough and chapped, pressed against yours with surprising tenderness. Tied up, there wasn't much you could do except watch in muted fear. His eyelids fluttered while shut, lashes thick and dark. The boy pulled back after a short moment, gauging the emotions that flashed on your face.

A tight-lipped smile formed on his mouth. "Wuh-would you ev-ever date suh-someone like mm-me?" His voice wobbled with each tic that racked his body. It felt like a quiz. Like if you gave the wrong answer, you'd fail. And you weren't too keen on figuring out what failing meant.

Unable to hold your tongue, you bit back. "You mean a murderer?"

You regretted it immediately upon seeing the glint in his eyes, the psychotic glee seeping past his control. But you meant it. His intention, whether it had changed or not, was still looming over your mind like a storm cloud.

The boy grinned and in return kissed you again, fiercely this time. There was no gentleness in this one. It was aggressive. Forceful. He even placed a hand behind your head to keep you from falling back.

It was obvious he was inexperienced, sloppily lapping at your mouth with enthusiasm. He only pulled back to give you air, his own body pressed close against yours. Your chest heaved with the effort of trying to draw in breaths, and your eyes flitted from his wet lips to his shaking hands that inched down your body.

"What are you doing?" You breathed, watching him with wide eyes.

He shook his head, too engrossed in his own thoughts. "S-such a sh-shame..." He muttered under his breath. You didn't want to know what he meant by that.

With bated breath you watched as his hands snaked down to your crotch, fingers creeping over the fabric of your pants. But then he suddenly pulled them lower in the blink of an eye.

You gasped and almost fell flat on your side trying to scramble away, forgetting your legs were tied together at the ankles and arms tied to your side.

"What the hell?! Get away from me!" You shouted, face contorting into an expression of disgust. The guy didn't let your shrieks travel any farther in this empty cabin, though. He shut you up with his lips on yours, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. While he distracted you up there, his hand shot down to your crotch, fingers ghosting over your clit. You gasped into his mouth, your hips jerking with surprise. His rough but slender fingers sloppily glossed between your folds, gathering up whatever slick was there. You writhed in your restraints at the feeling, but unsurprisingly, he didn't let up, drinking up your groans with his mouth.

You don't know what possessed you, what controlled you at this point—maybe some primal lust or horniness—but for whatever reason, you slowed down. You stopped the violent struggle and sat relatively still, save for the occasional squirming. Surprised as he was, the boy was not going to let this chance pass by. He unlatched his lips from yours, turning his attention fully to your groin.

Slick coated his fingers in layers as he slid them through your folds. He watched with ragged breath, entranced. You stared at him in a state the mixture of shock and anticipation. After a minute, your eyes glanced back up to his face. There was fascination in his eyes, his cheeks and ears a rosy red.

Once he was satisfied, he carefully dipped two fingers into your heat. You sucked in a breath, caught off guard at the intrusion. His digits pumped in and out at a steady pace, occasionally curling. It was careful, like he was testing this out for the first time. The novice moves were enough for you, however. You whimpered under his touch, your breaths shaky. Somehow, watching as his fingers disappeared and reappeared increased your arousal, your cunt producing more juices.

"Wuh-wet..." He mumbled. Astute observation. Your warm, soft walls gripped around his fingers, molding to the shape. He couldn't help but wonder if it would do the same to his dick nestled in th—

The thought caused him to squeeze his legs together, trying to provide some friction to his already half-hard cock. The bulge in his jeans was quite easy to notice.

It was starting to get really hot in the stuffy room. A sheen of sweat glistened on your forehead. The brunette continued without pause, watching your face down to the minute details. Each curve of his fingers sent a spark of pleasure down your spine. And with another move, he accidently found your g-spot.

A broken moan espaced your mouth, a hot fire burning in your abdomen. And it didn't go unnoticed by him. He relentlessly fingered you, making sure to always reach that special spot he felt so lucky to have found.

"O-oh god..." Your voice wobbled at the end, vision getting hazy. The boy looked like he wanted to drink you up right now; he was practically drooling at the sight, his uneven breathing almost rivaling yours. With the heat and the rope both making you feel suffocated, things were getting frustrating.

The only sound filling the room was your quiet moans and whimpers.

"Toby," he suddenly blurted out. "My nuh-name is T-Toby."

Your raised your head lazily in surprise. But he didn't even give you time to respond. With a wide grin, he pushed his digits in deeper. They curled inside you with the purpose to make you cum, and it almost worked. It most certaintly led you closer to that breaking point.

"Toby..!!" You wailed, and now you realized why he had given you his name. He wanted you to moan it, to whine it in that sultry tone, that voice that was his doing.

He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth. It went straight to his dick, which strained painfully against his dark blue jeans. With determination and horniness burning in his eyes, he thrusted his fingers in farther and faster, making sure to curl them in just the right places. He was learning quick.

Your hips rolled forward—as best you could under restraints—with each pump he delivered, desperate for more, chasing that feeling growing in your core. You sucked in sharp and heavy breaths, whimpering embarrassingly. But that orgasm was building, and you didn't care if you were moaning like a pornstar for him to continue.

"God, pl-please... please, Toby.." you whined, wanting his slim fingers so deep inside you. That was probably the lust talking, but it worked either way. Saliva started to pool at the bottom of his mouth and he giggled, high-pitched, reminding you for a split second of his murderer status. Yet you couldn't focus on that for too long, because he got faster, fingering you like it was his life's mission. It felt thrilling, having someone completely under his control like you were right now. The feeling was addicting, running through his veins like adrenaline.

It wasn't long before a rush of pleasure engulfed your body like a tidal wave. You clenched around his digits as you came, dopamine rippling through your being. You rose down from your high slowly, panting, chest rising and falling.

A frenzied smile graced Toby's lips as he slowly slipped out his fingers. Your juices shone on them, and he gazed at the sight for an unnatural amount of time before sticking them in his mouth and lapping it up. He made sure not to miss a single spot, tongue gliding across his knuckles. He didn't even break eye contact, watching you squirm under his stare.

"You're ss-so cuh-cute when yy-you cum," he cooed, tilting his head in admiration. You would have never thought you'd blush at a killer's words, but here you were, blood rushing to your cheeks. Out of the graciousness of his heart, Toby quickly untied the ropes that bound you with clumsy, impatient hands. Immediately, you felt so much better not being tied up, your muscles relaxing from the strain. And yet still you didn't move. You were free now; why didn't you move?

Toby unzipped his jeans with all the excitement in the world, pulling his dick out of his boxers and eagerly stroking himself a couple of times. It was a decent length, pale like his skin and not super girthy. Precum that leaked from his flushed-red tip was generously slathered on his shaft, acting as lube. Another giggle slipped from his throat; his face burned staring down at your body, your entrance right there and perfectly wet. Without wasting a beat, he thrusted in you, bottoming out almost immediately. Your yelp of pain and shock drowned out the shaky groan he let out.

"Sh-shit, yyy-you're fucking tuh-tight," he breathed, his voice increasing in pitch at the very end of his sentence. Your walls immediately molded to his dick, soft muscle warm and embracing. You propped yourself up on shaking elbows, trying not to fall over. It hurt. He was sudden and fast and unpredictable. So it was no surprise that he didn't even give you time to adjust, pulling out and then slamming right back in. A gasp was ripped out of you, pain rippling in your abdomen. And he didn't let up, either. Toby continued with this brutal pace, pulling out nearly all the way and ramming in again as far as he could.

Through teary eyes, his features were getting blurry. But you couldn't miss the manic grin that he wore so well, his gash stretching wider. The twinkle in his eyes scared you.

Mid-thrust, Toby pulled out and dipped his body forward, mouth finding its way to your neck. You sucked in a breath at the feeling his hot tongue swiping across your collarbone, his cock sandwiched in between your bodies. Goosebumps pricked your skin. You fidgeted under him, faint sounds coming out of you.

Suddenly, he bit you, hard.

"AH!" You cried out in startled pain, hands flying out to his back in a feeble attempt to stop him.

Toby ignored you, lapping up the blood that seeped from the bite-shaped wound.

"S-so soft... I cuh-could b-break you ssss-so eas-easily... I could fff-fucking wreak y-you, k-kill you, you'd ne-never be aaa-able to do anyth-anything..." He purred, and you could feel him smile against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine. But at the same time, your cunt squeezed, aching for something to fill the emptiness. For his dick. Your racing heart betrayed the fear that fueled your arousal. He could surely feel it against his own chest pressed flush to yours. And feel it he did.

"That's wuh-what you luh-like, right? Ffff-for me tuh-to hhh-hurt you? To thre-threaten you? Y-you like it, ffffuck-fucking want it... sss-so badly..." He mumbled nonsense, increasing in fervor, hands slithering around your body and under your shirt. His warm breath washed over your neck and his breaths came fast and hard, practically panting as his passion increased.

You swallowed hard, anticipation building up in your core. The lanky brunette looked tense, his body tight as he tried restraining himself from completely ravishing you. Biting you too hard. Making your skin bruise. Making you bleed.

And you, you just wanted more. More of what, you didn't know. But as much as you told yourself you hated this situation, how wrong this whole ordeal was, your face was flushed with arousal and every sense was heightened. What was wrong with you?

Toby lined himself up with your entrance, biting his lip hard. He wasn't fazed by whatever pain he should have felt, and he didn't even notice when a drop of blood rolled down his chin. It was crimson like a dark rose, and the sight momentarily distracted you, only to give you a worse shock when Toby slid in abruptly again.

You moaned embarrassingly, throwing your head back to lay against the hardwood floor. Your cunt squeezed around him, happy to have been filled once again with his delicious size.

"O-oh god," Toby groaned, beginning his fast and sloppy pace. "Such a fff-fucking s-slut, muh-moaning sss-so loud ff-for my di-dick."

You were practically drenched at hearing his dirty talk, your previous cum and slick more than enough to slather his cock.

"I-it fits pp-pur-perfect, luh-like it was—nng—muh-made for me." His concentration was apparently not enough to dim the ever-growing grin spreading on his face from ear to ear. A furious red had blossomed on his cheeks, lust seeping from his auburn eyes. They were like pools of dark honey. Not very fitting of a deranged serial killer.

Toby leaned in close so his mouth was right next to your ear, heavy breaths drowning out all other noise.

"Tell muh-me, If-if I ch-chased you... h-hunted yyy-you down... wuh-would you rr-run?" He asked in a whispered tone. "Would y-you run away, ru-run aaa-as ff-fast as you cou-could... a-and then wuh-what? What wou-would you dd-do—hng—if I ccc-caught y-you?"

Was he expecting you to answer? Because you sure as hell couldn't. Not with him pounding into you, ramming your walls so deep you didn't even know possible. All you could focus on was the way the head of his dick dragged inside you.

"Y-you would prob-probably jj-just lie there l-like you duh-did now, you-you'd probably—hah—ttttt-take i-it like you aaa-are n-now. Wuh-wouldn't you? H-huh?" His voice hissed in your ear, cock twitching every time your pussy clenched—betraying your emotions. And yeah, it was so obvious you were probably going to cum soon with his words alone. His own voice was already wobbly and whiney.

Toby took your mouth in his with a wide smile, tipping your head back with the ferocity of his tongue, practically mauling you. And you let him. It was heated and passionate, and it felt like he was pouring all of his emotions into you. You gasped when he pulled away, head reeling from the lack of oxygen. It all felt so so good, like you were being transported to cloud nine or something.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna—gonna cum," you moaned, your gaze floating to ceiling as if you could see your orgasm right there in arms reach. Toby's eyes never left your face, but his thrusts were getting messier, less rhythmic—he was close too.

A couple seconds later, the most earth shattering orgasm racked your body, your cunt spasming around his cock and your legs tightening around him. You couldn't even cry out—your mouth agape and your vision blurred.

Toby threw a slew of curses under his breath—no way was he going to survive this.

"Oh- sh-shit," he stammered, hips stuttering like a malfunction. Thick, hot spurts of cum shot inside you, filling you up to the absolute brim. You felt so warm inside, and your hips attempted to jerk forward to get more and more of him, milking him completely dry. Embarrassingly whiney whimpers slipped out of Toby's mouth and he was so glad you were too fucked out to hear.

"F-fuck," he panted on top of you, almost toppling on you with the tremors of an orgasm still rendering his body weak.

When the both of you had recovered, you still had no energy in your body to do much of anything. So you just lied there. Tired. But there was an entire bliss of nothing in your brain. You felt so floaty, so out of it. The words killer or murderer never slipped in your mind. Or maybe it did. You really couldn't give a shit right now.

Toby's mumbles hardly registered in your mind. "You could wuh- work for luh-later," he muttered softly, his gaze pinning you down like a butterfly.

Shit.

[leakycorpsefluids]

lowkey i NEED more of your toby headcanons… the last ones were so good. doesn’t need to be toby x reader (although it’s always appreciated) but i love the darker take on his character

Awwww thank you! I do love a darker Toby 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

TICCI TOBY HEADCANONS

TW: Mild dub con, dark content, sexual content

> Being homeschooled and the weird kid, he obviously never got much sexual attention. After becoming a proxy, while he struggled to remember more than bits and pieces of his life before, that period of left him with a lot of self esteem issues. And not to mention, the loneliness he'd felt his whole life. In his early 20s, he'd go to bars and pick out the drunkest people and start hitting on them and eventually take them elsewhere to touch on each other. Not that he wasn't intoxicated himself - but nowhere near his "partners". He never felt good about it. But that didn't stop him, did it?

> He always knew he wasnt straight, but once he got to explore the world a bit he came to the conclusion that he's pansexual. Gender doesn't matter so much to him as the person - and that they're giving him attention.

> A big part of him being such a snuggler is that, so long as he's constantly touching, hugging, and groping you and you're at least allowing it - he doesn't have to battle with feeling like you've suddenly fallen out of love with him. Or that you secretly hate him. He does like being touchy, it calms him. But it's also a reassurance thing.

> He gives me rual southern midwest small town angst vibes. So therefore, he's a bit of a hunter. Which is probably where he got the rifle I mentioned in my last HC post. It's mostly small game - he doesn't wanna deal with gutting a deer. Sometimes you step outside in the morning to find a dead rabbit on your steps - or worse, parts of a rabbit. He's trying to take care of you, in some small way. It's still gross, though, when you accidentally step in meat that's sat out over night and has had time to get all sweaty and gross in the morning sun.

> He's definitely engaged in cannibalism. He may not feel hunger pains, but he at least notices when his ribs are sticking through his skin. And he's killing then anyway, how is eating them any worse that what's already been done to them? He doesn't know, nor does he really care.

> Sometimes when you guys stay the night together, he Jack's off to your sleeping form. He'll never tell you about it -he's too ashamed - but you have found smear on your sheets. You know damn well what that boy does. But, he'd have a breakdown if you ever called him on this.

> He has, on at least one occasion, carved your guys initials into a victim's body. Put a little heart around em and everything.

> If you have periods, Toby LIVES for eating you out when you're on it. It's the blood 100%

[violentdelights-violetends]

i’ve seen footage

reader x ticci toby

about the cute guy you met at the video rental shop you work at is a little strange behind the scenes.

cw obsessive behaviour, brief mention of r*pe in relation to a scene in a film

a/n what’s that? can’t tell! handheld dream, shot in hell <333 hehe had a long day today enjoy

part 1 (you’re here!) > part 2 > part 3 > part 4

[oneshotswander]

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : The desert night is changing my destiny

> Or, you finally let yourself be sure of this new life. A way of life. Not just a job.

> Warnings: smut. everyone is pervy damn near all of the time. canon typical description of violence and murder.

Grinding, Car sex, fingering (r! rec.), Oral (r! rec), Spit

> Includes: sub!Toby Rodgers x dom!smart!reader. Reader has fem biology and no pronouns.

> Additional: Thank you to @portraitofalinkonfyre for helping me write this one (I don’t know how to write smut ‼️)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here)

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The morning starts late. The kind of way it always does when you’re always staying up until 4am.

It was just the way of life you had to become accustomed to in order to live as a proxy. Most, if not all, work was done in the evening and night. Not that they couldn’t operate during the day —as they were certainly capable enough to do so— just that the cover of a setting sun and the stars gave more forgiveness than the blinding light. The vagueness of the shadows allowed the very delicate house of cards that you were now stacked within to stay just out of reach in the minds of normal people. Normal people like the person you once were.

This new way of life was a right of passage for every sorry soul under the employment of the operator— the adaptation to a life spent in murkiness. That you will no longer exist in certain, tangible terms. You are no longer the person you once were, no longer a name. You were an extension, a means to the ends.

It begins as just work. The one or two hits you had to handle, but eats into the hours you can afford to exist in. You realize that it’s not just aesthetics or ego that makes the majority of work take place past 7pm. It’s practicality— if you wanted to keep living in this life, as there was no past life to return to, then you’d just have to suck it up. Eventually, the once normal life spent within daylight is as foreign to you as being nocturnal once was.

You get used to looking out of your black-out curtains to an already pitch black forest.

You get used to shying away from the sun, the last sense of genuine warmth you had left.

You get used to the uncertainty —the vagueness of intention and of what exactly you were seeing— especially as it weaves into your entire experience living.

You wake up before Toby does. Not unusual.

Sunlight still diffuses out from the edges of the curtains, golden and slinking away. The room as just as jostled as you left it last night, haphazardly tripped through after the gas station run.

It’s not at all surprising. That is, if you ignored for a moment that you were pinned to the mattress by the fact he was sprawled out over you.

This wasn’t so normal. At least not in the sense that it happened often. Often, of course, meaning more than this one time.

While Toby certainly was affectionate to some stretch of the word —moreso than the others you could compare him to— he’d always slink off to sleep on his own. Even those first few nights you were kept tied up and observed, he never took a day shift. You’d never really seen him asleep.

So having him now: face stubbornly burrowed into your neck, body pinning you between the small spring mattress and a wall, was incredibly confusing to awake to.

It was a dull surprise to you. Like finding that, after hours working at a problem, you’d given the wrong answer. You’d mistaken him. That although he showed more of himself to you than any other of your coworkers, and had begun to foster something akin to a friendship, he was still to be forever kept at a distance. A coworker. One of the men who’d kidnapped you.

You almost chuckled that it was “coworker” that came first.

You suppose it was normal in the sense— that this was simply another undefined part of your relationship to agonize over. Another instance for you to wonder what it meant, why he decided to drop his guards for you, only to settle on “probably nothing” while simultaneously ignoring that so many “nothings” surely had to be something.

This wasn’t a normal friendship activity because you weren’t normal friends. That was all.

It meant nothing that he’d pull you out of the holes you’d dug for yourself, or that he’d memorized what you wanted without being asked like the back of his hand, or that in moments like these you can feel that domestic life you once hoped for coming back to you. It meant nothing that, right about now, maybe you still hope for them with him.

It meant nothing because at the end of the night, neither of you could afford the clarity. That even if you could break away from your new life spent in code, crouched in the darkness, the two of you would never be free.

For some reason, you were here. And whatever reason that was, you were sure that your boss wouldn’t allow nor care for any silly mortal feelings to come between it and its goals.

He shudders against you, trying to find you for comfort, moving to pin you further. There are less efficient therapy dogs, you’re sure. Still, you can’t help but sigh, tangling a hand into his hair and returning him to the spot of your neck he’d claimed. A heavy sigh leaves him, coming out more as a long groan. How you envy his ability to sleep so well, to ignore the world outside. To ignore the fact he was drooling all over your neck.

Your fingers fiddle with his hair out of habit. You’re not even sure if he can feel it. You’re not even sure to what extent he can really feel at all.

Regardless, it provided some relief. That despite your eyes tracing the water damage and the cracks on the textured ceiling, you weren’t so alone anymore. Even if neither of you could be free, you felt free enough here.

Damn him, constantly inspiring hope for a fulfilling life. How dare he. He’s not even awake this time.

You actually laugh now, trying your hardest to not awake Toby as he sleeps, silently shuddering. He protests, shoving his forehead further down to be closer still, and hands practically strangling you wherever they could grab.

You think you hear him mumble something about five more minutes.

If only you could give them to him.

The door rattles when it’s knocked on, old past its use. There’s hardly even a second before the light from the hallway spills into the dim room, Brian taking up the doorway. He takes a step in, preoccupied with his keys, fiddling with the ring.

He stops dead in his tracks, literally and you’re sure mentally.

You can’t see his face. But you don’t really need to in order to understand the thoughts running through his head. The sarcastic greeting he had now dead on his tongue, trailing off and mangled.

“I’m just as confused as you are” The assurance is met with a defeated exhale, mixing with a humour equally as exhausted.

“Sure. What- Whatever floats your boat. I don’t-“ He pinches his nose overtop the mask, far past the point of reckoning with the odd sight in front of him. Toby starfished over you, covers kicked off, your own absolute “I-don’t-know-what-this-is-so-don’t-ask-me” look on your face.

“…Are we waking him up?” You pose it less of a question of if he needs to be awake and more of if he’s even able to be awoken.

“Well” Brian shifts his weight onto one foot and occupies himself with his truck keys again, missing the flash of guilt that overcomes you for a brief moment. “It’s for both of ya’ really. I don’t care”

“Oh?” You try to sit up. It’s pretty impossible with the effort Toby puts up against it. “I’ll… pass on the message?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “There’s a group a guys on the edge of town tryna figure this shit out. Persistent bastards. Boss wants em gone”

You nod, not that another option is available to you.

“Drive out whenever you want. Just get em gone however ya can” He loosely chucks his keys at you, missing your chin in favor of hitting Toby on the top of his head.

“We’re- driving your truck?” You glance at the keys and then to a still sleeping Toby.

“You are driving my truck.” He clarifies, jabbing a finger at you in finality, “I’ve been up through the last two mornings. I’d sooner drive us into a tree”

“Huh” You hum, without being able to stop yourself. He just stares at you, eating at you to go on “Who’d’ve thought you cared about our safety”

“I don’t. I don’t wanna crash my truck.” Yeah so much about warm and fuzzy.

“Yeah whatever, go to bed old man” He scoffs, leaving and shutting the door behind him. You wait for the doorframe to fall dramatically, but it never does.

“What-t j-just happened?” Toby doesn’t even lift his head, instead opting to mumble incoherently into your skin. His hands trace over you closely, checking that you’re still there as he remembers.

“Don’t worry about it.” Your voice is short, choked as he settles down again, the palm of his hand rested against the curve of your chest.

“O-Ok.” And he’s asleep again.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The scent of cigarettes and horrible relationship choices hangs heavy in the front bench seat of Brian’s shuddering truck.

The road, lined with trees that occasionally fork outward into thin gravel paths, stretches on like a promise, down to the last cratered pothole and roadside animal corpse. Nickleback’s “If Everyone Cared” filters softly through the crackling speakers.

It’s been silent for approximately two hours, seven minutes, and twelve seconds. Not that you’re counting; or using the tactical-grade watch strapped to your wrist to watch as time ticks by without you, halfheartedly swallowing against the dryness settling in your throat.

If you’re quiet; really quiet, deathly quiet, you can hear Toby. Hear his breath, scraggly through that cringe rendition of a dog muzzle, and see the subtle taps of rough fingers against an even rougher gearshift. God— for how much Brian loved the truck it really was beaten.

He goes quiet, too, as if listening in turn. As if feeling that heaviness of your attention and finally stared back down the barrel of the gun. As if memorizing the frantic beat in your chest that simply refuses to calm. As if he can hear your apprehension and smell the slick between your thighs as your eyes covertly track the corded muscles of those damn forearms.

You really ought to be paying attention to the road.

Or the poor poor souls you’re about to be confronted with, to kill.

But no. Another flash of heat races over you, despite the old ac whirring on blast, settling low in your stomach.

He had to know what he was doing. His hands wandering after he woke up, whining like that when you had to go, watching you change into his clothes when you caved. It was like he’d realized that you weren’t going to question him— if he got greedy.

And greedy he was.

The gum in your mouth doesn’t taste like anything anymore. It doesn’t even serve to be a distraction. His leg juts out and immediately, your eyes are drawn to just below the belt towards the worn denim.

God, you feel like such a pervert.

Just to be clear— it wasn’t as if Toby were exactly any better. He woke up, hips flush against yours, face damn near at your breast, while his hands actually occupied themselves with it.

He’s not sure what he expected. To be kicked out of his own room? To never to see you again? He wouldn’t have judged you.

Especially not with the tent that was already forming in his pants.

But no. You didn’t even acknowledge it. Not in embarrassment, but truly at peace with the fact that he —your closest friend— was a dirty fucking pervert. You humored his whines to keep you close, down to the ten ish minutes it’d take for you to put on fresh clothes and gather your stuff. You even pretended not to notice that he’d been sneaking looks as you’d changed.

But of course you noticed. You always did.

He was uniquely thankful there was such a stretch of road for you to pay attention to, such that you couldn’t see he was already hard again. That there was music on the radio and new scenery to draw your notice. Covering you from his obvious… situation. Oblivious even to the sweat trailing down your jaw, along your neck and into your shirt —his shirt— as you chewed on your gum.

Surely you knew. Surely you knew what a horrible person you were temping him to be.

He was already the type of person that jerked off to his best friend. Who he kidnapped, mind you.

He was already the type of person that would hump at his pillow when the thought of your hands didn’t work, whining in embarrassment, as if that keen judgement of yours was always watching.

Surely you knew, that if you didn’t quit it, he might actually let himself be yours.

Neither of you were used to just: sitting in silence. Neither of you were ever good at acknowledging the tension that slowly built between you. Neither of you were even particularly talented at hiding the fact you were only getting more and more tense by the second.

By the time the truck rolled into its spot nestled between two large pines, both of you needed to let off some steam.

It was immediately hard to tell what was ground and what was sky once you got out. Even the world around you was disoriented, adding to the conflict that only barely joined the arousal. The sky was already dark and angry, ready to break with that heavy summer rain. The humidity swallowed you, suffocating you on all sides with the energy of what was to come, filling your lungs.

You had never been so immersed in a job. You’d never let it be anything more than that— a job. A biding of your time.

The feeling sat unsteady in your chest, settling atop the still burning heat in your gut. Brewing the dangerously impulsive urge to act on something other than logic for once in this new life.

Your “victims” weren’t exactly making it an easy affair either. The type of man-children that took the night to get piss-drunk before they were to start investigating the woods. It was laughable. They knew these woods were dangerous. The danger was staring them down. Yet still here they were, making sloppy work of themselves in their last moments, lounging around a makeshift bonfire.

Houses this close to the woods normally don’t have anything to inspire sitting outside— the owners know better than to invite attention to themselves. It’s already bad enough to live out here, it’s better not to go about showing your face every night.

This particular house shared this feature: notably lacking any overhang, patio, or even a grill.

Still, these bozos decided to trample the grass and gather enough rocks and wood to make a decently sized fire. As the night settled their gathering roared, the orange light lapping at the surrounding wood, being the only distinguishing factor from the dark clouds looming above.

You look over to Toby, who stands amid the light while you try your best to hug the shadows. The light was half-dying by the time it reached him, but still illuminated enough.

Enough to see that he didn’t even spare a glance for the fools not even 50 feet away.

Instead, his one track mind was zeroed in on you. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume Brian gave you this mission so you two could just fuck already.

If he didn’t quit looking at you like that, the thought passes your mind that you just might. The thought sits intoxicating, running on loop, while you feel that familiar dull burning of desire return. All that observation, the notes you’d made about the glorified frat-bros who were about to meet their end was thrown away.

“What- am I supposed to be making a plan?” You prompt him to do anything else, looking back towards the 8 men lounging. Begging him to give up the hold on each of your senses. For just how much you wanted to hear and taste and touch him again. A hand grasps at your neck, thumb trailing along the curve of the tense muscles.

You almost feel pathetic for how wet it makes you.

His hands are rough, of course. Years of mostly wielding hatchets does do that, one would assume. You fail at shoving down the well-treaded thought of how they’d feel, pulling you apart from the inside out.

His fingers individually test applying pressure, testing what brings your attention back to him. And oh— what a sight it is when you do. The look of devotion is the type you only see of someone who’s on their knees. His chin is tilted, forcing him to look up at you, lips pursed in some sense of awe.

As far as Toby was concerned, he’d been forgiven of his sins. God had looked past his transgressions and blessed him with this moment. You, in his clothes, both so dialed in and so unable to focus. Your attention was so keen, so sharp already, that you’d bend the world to your will— him with it.

Maybe you were god.

It’d make an awful lot of sense. He wouldn’t mind being religious, not so long as he had your attention.

That heavy attention that never failed to find him. To put him back in his place.

Your lips turn to a grin, satisfied. That someone you know for a fact to be so dangerous looks ready to grovel at your feet for approval.

The thrum of your watch stays steady. That look in your eyes returns, steady as ever.

God, his knees feel weak.

“Whoever gets the most wins?” You pose, breaking whatever odd stupor Toby had gotten himself into. You’re so occupied with his eyes you miss the effect your challenge had on him.

“There’s an-an even nuh-number?” He argues, only if to see you find some way to correct him.

“Guess we’ll just try harder then, won’t we?” He laughs, leaning into his hand and stumbling forward, his elbow now at your shoulder.

“A-and what wou-would I win?” He tilts his head to hide the rough jerk of his neck.

“Guess that’s something the winner gets to pick then, hm?” You tilt your head to match, readying yourself to face the target practice.

You take a step into the light, accepting the job. The challenge. The surety of something more for once.

A mission has never gone so fast. Man after man.

Ducking under arms jabbing broken bear bottles and shitty hunting knives.

The satisfying spurt of muddy red covering their makeshift camp site.

The distant roar of thunder joining in on the chorus of your own blood rushing past your ears.

The work is messy and loud and competitive— almost akin to a high: settling in your head, blocking each fine tuned calculation you’d normally make in favor of your single goal of winning.

Giddiness settles beneath your sternum, setting alight the nerves and leaving behind hunger. To win. To finally get an answer out of Toby.

The men, despite their number, don’t pose much a difficult challenge. By the time you finish, you’re both on opposite sides of their camp, gasping for more of the thick humid air to choke you from the inside.

You don’t notice it until you need to pause and breathe properly that you’re laughing. Head bared to the sky and giggling manically.

5 men. You’d killed 5 of the 8 men.

The sky finally breaks, a stay fat drop of water sizzling on their fire.

A few more diluting the sticky blood that seeps into the ground.

A sprinkling beginning to draw trails in the red splattering that won’t drip off your skin.

By the time it starts raining in earnest, you both are running back to the truck in a euphoric high of laughing. The doors slam, but you don’t turn on the car.

In weather like this, no one’s going to come for them. Too much of a hassle for the drive, and with the heavy rain your tracks are sure to be covered with the mud. By the time the storm is sure to clear it’ll have been like you were never there.

There was no harm in sticking around a little while more.

Toby’s in no better condition than you are— soaked through with the blood, rain trails and dirt breaking up the splatter. He’s similarly loopy off the kills and the challenge, not even noting that he’s lost.

All there was in this moment was the stuffy beaten truck and the keen awareness of the other across the console. Sneaking looks and pretending that neither care.

The laughter fades off into intermittent giggling, like you’d both gotten away with the best inside joke of your lives. It sure felt like it.

Afterall, you got to see him in a soaked through t-shirt that clung to his frame.

You truly were a criminal mastermind.

Once the fit of giggling wears off, it hits him that he actually lost. You see it in real time, the small widening of his eyes, the bob in his throat. The idea settled on top of that giddy excitement.

That you’d have your way with him.

The thought is immediately too exciting, given that he doesn’t even know what passes through your divine judgement. But the immediate squirm of his hips once the idea passes his mind is enough to know he’s actually excited to have lost. That you knew now you had him at your mercy, at your beck and call, practically grinding at your leg.

Literally, if that were your desire too.

“S-so, then” He shoves down the thought, ignoring the immediate flooding of heat to- “What’re y-you goin t-to claim then? Wh-What’d y’ win?”

You look back at him, immediately making him double check the existence of mind reading.

In that one moment of you finally, finally looking at him. He’s convinced you knew everything. Every night he’d whined your name into an empty room, begging that maybe you’d know and take pity. But he doesn’t feel you have pity now, looking at him like the loser he is.

You hum and haw, drawing it out— considering your options while he tried to ignore the increasingly difficult urge to try and get off without you noticing.

“Back of the truck” He’s sure he looks comically disappointed. Pouting, puppy-eyed, and ready to beg you to stay near. That the small distance was already killing him, don’t send him even further.

Right up until you get out to hop in the back too.

He makes eager work of the door to get in. You meet him on the other side, clawing off his mouth guard to get access. His mouth is hardly free for a second before you’re there. Snuffing out his senses and filling them back up with you. Immediately he’s hit with the addictive taste of you in his mouth, the scent of you beneath the irony blood crowding his space, and the one hand that isn’t on his jaw eagerly finding the bone of his hip.

His back is shoved against the door he just got in on, kneeling, head tilted back to the angle you desire from him. It’s difficult to miss his shameful desire like this, hips shoved out and back pressed against a wall— not to mention the downright pathetic whine he lets out.

Well, all of that that on top of the raging hard-on beneath his pants.

Spit leaks out the gash on his cheek, adding to the already messy affair. You separate only to gasp for air, hands keeping him where you wanted him— hands either side his jaw.

“Pl-lease-“ You hardly let him get the word out, already moving to shut him back up by the time he gasps a breath “Pleasepleaseplease- I I n-need you-“

He’s so pretty like this, flushed and without a single thought running through his head that isn’t you.

You tilt his head to catch what little and dim light you’re left with, admiring the trial of spit leading down to his chin and now finding his neck. You lean down before you can stop yourself.

Your tongue traces the trail, picking up the frothy spit alongside the blood and salt of his skin.

Immediately, as soon as your tongue meets his skin, he jolts. His hands press you closer, begging you to just stay there.A strangled whine leaves his throat, long and high pitched. Mixing in with his desperate begging. It’s as if the only words he knew were “please” and your name.

His hips buck upward, trying to find any friction they could with your own being so close. You move to keep him just far enough away, enjoying the furrow in his brow as he looks up at you.

“Wh-what- I,” You continue, lathing up the side of his neck before returning to his cheek. “M’ sorry, I-I’ll be good- I’ll be good! I won’t be gr-greedy”

His eyes are wild and crazed, brows cinched in a beg. Your tongue follows the trail up and up and up, along his neck and over his jaw. Finally finding his cheek, covered in a mix of your saliva and his.

You don’t make him utter the words, opting to hold his eye contact as you trace your tongue along the jagged scar.

Those pretty wide eyes roll back, fluttering with another buck of those hips. His breaths are ragged, shallow and unable to focus. You admire him, chewing on your long dead gum as he finally gives into finality. This wasn’t nothing, this couldn’t be nothing. Not when he nearly came to your tongue on his scar.

His eyes return to you, trying to distract you as he humps against the air for any sort of relief. You kiss him again, brief, leaving him chasing you with a whimper still lodged in his throat.

“Can you do me a favor?” You know you don't need to ask. But there’s still some satisfaction to be gained in his immediate fast nods.

“Open up” And he does,eyes still begging for your approval.

You lift up on your knees, kneeling over him as he desperately tries to offer his mouth up to you. You stick out your tongue letting you gum fall from your mouth to his.

The excitement is immediate, a half gasp followed by his zero-in on worshipping your gift.

“Thank-k you- G-god” He chokes, half occupied with you being so close and the other half occupied on your gum.

He’s so occupied, in fact, he doesn’t even realise your hand shaking down. It's as soon as your hand actually cups his cock over the jeans, that he shudders. A full body shudder as his body doesn’t know what else to do. His hips immediately and desperately try to fuck into your hand. His eyes were shut, lids fluttering still as desperate curses and moans left from his chest. Every shaky exhale was a plead to stay. A begging to let him live out the moment that had only played in his head until now.

His hand removes yours, shaky and just barely coming in time to stop himself from cumming again.

“No-not me f-first” He barely managed to get out, eyes still watering and hips still jerking at the empty air, begging for your hand. “Plea-se- Please, p-pretty ya got-gotta let-t me,” You place yours behind you on the seat and he immediately advances, shoving his face in your neck.

He lathes and sucks and licks and nips like it’ll be his last chance to ever mark you up.

His hands roam, grabbing there he pleases before finally getting to business. You only hear him quietly begging for you against your skin, the taste of him still clear in your head.

He struggles off your belt and pants, but pauses at the sight of you, only in underwear and his shirt, exposed before him.

You’ve seen people less praising in churches.

His hands work gently to spread your thighs so he can get a better view. Panties stuck to your skin, soaked with slick. He trails a hand inward from your knee, following up your thigh and finally up to your gushing heat. He tests you, pushing at the damp gusset, pushing it slightly aside to feel the warm slick.

There’s no other thoughts, no other intent. Just the dedication to finding what will make you feel good.

He revels in the jolt of your hips, in your own whines as they bubble up from your chest. He enjoys coaxing them out as those rough pads of his fingers circle your clit. It feels better than you imagined, only serving to make you more and more wet. He gathers up a decent amount, lifting it to his face to admire.

And admire he does, in the feeling of it, and the taste once he shoves his fingers in his mouth.

He could’ve sworn in that moment he was born again.

“Fu-ck, h-hun” The words are absent minded, unfiltered. “b-better than an-an-anything else”

He looks at you, eyes wide and pleading. “Pluh-please let m-me, I just wan-na have a a t-taste” He hangs on your breath, heaving and still dizzy from his teasing.

You can only manage a nod.

He hardly even thinks before throwing your legs over his shoulders and ridding you of your underwear too. He begs for you approval, your permission, and finds it in the form of your hand in his hair. You pull closer: and closer he got.

His nose nudges at your clit while he lathes away at every new gush of slick. He was exactly where he wanted to be. He could die like this, suffocating between your thighs— drowning in you and he’d be happy.

But even your breathy whines weren’t enough for him. Greedy as ever.

He brings up a hand to aid, easing in one finger to your cunt. He trails in across your thighs and through your folds, gathering up enough wetness to ease you to the sensation. He pauses once his finger catches your hole, clenching desperately on nothing. It slipped in easy, already loose from his tongue, aided by his spit and the slick. He prods gently, finding what motions stir you up most off reaction alone.

A second joins the first, just as easy. He reaches so much deeper and takes up so much more space its dizzying. The pressure has you raising your hips into the air, aiding him.

A third joins. The fit stretches out your walls, making you whine as he tries to slip it in alongside the others. He shushes you gently, “Ju-juust relax, baby. I g-got y-ya, Just-t relax f-f’ me.” the words alone summon a gush of hot slick from your pussy, helping distract you long enough for him to slip in.

Your words had tickled off into heady moans that let him know when he was doing something right. That each curl of his finger and suckle at your clit was exactly what the both of you had been needing for weeks at this point. Your hands pulled his face closer, hips raised and rocking in time with his curling fingers.

“Please” You manage, even though he’s far beyond being concerned about manners when he’s eating, “Just a little more-“

“Yes m-ma’am” His voice shook, head burrowing his face in deeper, working his fingers faster, and ignoring the burning knees for oxygen as your thighs clamped around his head. He couldn’t even hear your warning.

The gush of fresh hot slick is immediately clinging to his tongue as he works to clean you up. No regards to the overstimulation as you squirm in his hands. All he’s concerned about his the pretty hole in front of him and his new favorite meal. His hips ground against the seats, rocking as he kept going and going and going to sate himself.

“S-shit- please do-donn’t look a-away” He whines, eyes looking up for yours, hands on the outside of either thigh.

“I’m not” You assure, leaning back against the door, letting him work at himself desperately.

“Fu-uck, please-“ His eyes rolled back, busting himself again with cleaning you up.

“Go ahead, Hun” You tug at his hair, just barely shuffling your hips closer. He locks up, whining against you as he’s finally relieved.

He doesn’t even need his hands, just some of your slick and disapproving stare. It was enough to make him cum in his pants.

[cryingintheclubdhmu]

Thot of the night.

Mutual masturbation with Toby.

Watching across the couch from each other while he’s pumping himself roughly and staring at the way your fingers disappear inside.

You can’t fuck because it was a spur of the moment thing but he gets desperate, ending up hovered over you, jacking off onto your stomach. However, his will power isn’t strong enough to stop there, and he promises he won’t go all the way. Panting out “I’ll j-just- it’ll be fine if I don’t go too deep- I’ll pull out.”

He slips in about half way, thrusting shallowly, when his head rests slumps onto your shoulder. The whole “just the tip” idea doesn’t last long, and before you know it, he’s dropping his hips down. Pelvis flush, he’s slurring apology after apology into your throat, yet his cock is remains buried.

You’re clinging onto his shoulders, and he’s rocking into you so hard the couch creaks. Pre cum mixing with your slick as he fucks you further into the cushions. His pants aren’t even off, belt dangling just below his ass, your underwear tugged to the side. His teeth latch onto your skin when he lets out a throaty moan- but he does stay true to his previous oath.

He hurriedly parts from you, his weight carried by the arm he has braced by your head while he tugs at his length. Toby’s grinding his cock head harshly onto your clit, making your eyes roll when he spills hotly onto your cunt.

Unfortunately his libido is inhumanly high, and he’s sliding back in balls deep with a groan, defeating the purpose of pulling out to begin with-

Just the tip to breeding kink who’s with me.

[theamberparadise]

TW; mommy kink, harsh language, implied overstimulation, really filthy sexual language, implied use of vibrator, public/semi-public masturbation, begging, implied edging, dom!reader, brat tamer!reader

The creeps pissed you off. Luckily, your special gift of a remote-control vibrator for them just arrived in the mail at the perfect time. You aren't gonna let them have a taste of you that easily.

OR: overstimulating/edging the creeps with a remote-control vibrator while they're in public!

includes: Jeff, Toby, BEN, Brian, Tim, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack. Ft. A very very special guest

divider credits; @/saradika-graphics

[noctiva]

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

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WC: 18.1k

Summary: Being a cam girl is a fun gig. Flexible hours, dressing up in cute outfits, and arguably easy cash. It’s almost made even better, knowing that you’ve got troves of desperate men right under your thumb. Well, it is - until one of them gets too attached.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, sex work, reader is a cam girl (duh), female masturbation, male masturbation, sex toys, voyeurism, stalking, toxic behaviour, breaking and entering, dubious consent w/ noncon elements, unsafe sex, wet and messy, drool and spit, vaginal fingering, biting and marking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, possessive tendencies, dom/sub undertones, Toby’s SUCH a desperate LOSER lmfao, and a total creep, also a bit psychotic, creampie

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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Toby should’ve never gotten a laptop.

He never saw the need for one beforehand, never cared - nor had the time - to waste his hours away in the online world. He had way bigger, and way more important priorities. Being one of Slender’s top dogs meant that most, if not all of his time was spent devoting himself to a cause he barely understood. Kept so busy that he could barely even take a moment to form an independent thought.

But, despite all that, and despite Slender’s best efforts - Toby was still human. Flesh, bone, and a beating heart. Needs, wants, desires. Curiosities.

So when he’s coming home from a mission in the city one night, and happens upon a discarded laptop in a dumpster behind an electronics store - he takes the bait. It had just been sitting there, the metal of its casing glinting in the moonlight, the charging cord barely a foot away.

Like it was beckoning him. Taunting him.

So, he takes it.

He wasn’t expecting it to work, brought it home with the expectation that he’d get nothing but a black screen staring back at him. That he’d dispose of this momentary lapse of judgment, and go back to life as usual - dumping it back in the trash like he had never found it in the first place.

That’s not what happened. By some grace of god, or possibly by the devil’s hand - it worked. The screen flickered and blinked on when he connected the charger and plugged it into the nearest non-busted outlet in his vicinity. It worked. A few dead pixels in the left-hand corner, a hairline crack running down the centre - but it worked. That enough was enough to have Toby letting out a downright giddy little laugh to no one but the four walls of his room - eyes wide and reflecting the screen before him, like he was staring into the gates of heaven itself.

He was. He just didn’t know it right then.

It didn’t take long for him to become completely and utterly hooked. Any free time to himself he found himself in the exact same position - eyes burning from the blue light, back hunched into an absolutely abhorrent display of posture, his gaze glued to the screen before him. He was like a kid on Christmas, excitement thrumming through his veins every time his fingertips hit the keyboard.

His new toy. Opening up a door to a world he had been exiled from. Observing it all like a window shopper, stuck behind the glass as he gazed upon things he could never have. Things he never should’ve seen. News stories, videos - some recounting disappearances and crimes he had committed with his own bare hands. Blogs and stories, profiles belonging to people he once knew.

Still living, just as he was, but on the other side of the coin. Unaware that he was still breathing, still wasting oxygen on his own wretched lungs as he peered into their lives. Analyzing the smiles on their faces. Wondering to himself, it was all a facade.

He spent days doing that. Checking in on old relatives, old classmates. Gritting his teeth when he would find out that they were doing well. Some married, some working towards some fancy degree. It felt like a swift punch to the gut, made him nauseous like their unknowing grins were an insult to life itself.

To him, they were.

Because why had they gotten it good? Why were they the ones thriving, and he was the one kicked to the curb? Living in a dusty old cabin that just barely had enough power to keep his screen lit.

He wasn’t sure what he hoped would happen. That karma would’ve dealt its heavy hammer onto all of their lives, leaving them sick, penniless - dead? Swiftly making them repent for everything they had done to him, one strike for every time they had ever pushed his face into the dirt.

But karma didn’t take names. It was fickle. Wasn’t some all seeing god that punished the horrid and cleansed the world with one swipe of its hand. If that were true, he’d probably be taken out right along with everyone who had wronged him.

His little escape from the horrors had quickly become just another set of horrors itself. Putting him into an even worse mood than before with an already frazzled mind from the events of the day, and yet he just couldn’t tear himself away. It was some sort of sick fascination, like a voyeur, gazing upon people’s lives while they were none the wiser. And maybe that’s why he just kept coming back. Maybe that’s how he found you.

He can’t really remember it all clearly, how he had stumbled upon this little goddess on his screen. Probably from some pop up ad on a porn site he had stumbled upon on one of his lonelier nights. All he remembered was seeing you. Front and centre. Top of the charts on the front page of the website you called home - right where you belonged. He remembered immediately thinking that it made sense, gazing at the little thumbnail snapshot of you - body covered in nothing but a sheer babydoll dress with the sweetest little smile curving your lips. It made sense, that you were the most clicked. And he hadn’t even ever watched you yet.

But when he finally did? It was an entirely different story. You were ethereal. Exquisite. A marvel of a woman all done up in lacy lingerie. Your body, carved to the shape of his wildest desires, your voice soft and sweet like a siren’s song. Eyes sparkling, lips plump, and the softest looking thighs he had ever laid eyes on. And don’t even get him started on what lay between them.

He hadn’t been with nearly as many girls as he would’ve liked too. Had seen enough cunts that he could count them on one hand. But yours? It was perfect. He was sure of it. He didn’t have to compare it to anything else to know that.

Always glistening and puffy by the time you peeled your panties off, legs spread to give your audience a nice show. Riling yourself up until you were desperate for it, soaking the lacy fabric so good he could see glistening strings of your slick attaching you to them before they broke. The first time he had witnessed it he was enraptured, goosebumps prickling up on the back of his neck, stomach flipping like he was witnessing something he had no right to. He probably didn’t. Someone like you, someone so soft and supple - someone so perfect - his hands would taint you. Leave you ruined. No matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much his body craved you, he just knew he’d break you.

(But maybe that was half of the reason he wanted you).

So, he just watches, like everyone else in your audience. Watches your pretty painted fingernails, the softness of your hands as you play with your own tits. Watching how the flesh indents under your fingers, knowing that they had to be even more supple than they looked. Imagining what it would be like to see them all marked up with splotches of red and purple from his teeth and tongue. Listened to your moans and imagined they were for him. Imagining that you were crying from stretching yourself around his cock, not your dildo or your fingers.

His fingers could give it to you better. And that toy you used? It was a dinky little thing. All of your followers knew it too. He could see them in the chat, begging you to take something bigger. Asking if you even could.

Toby knew you could. Could see it on your face when you sunk yourself down onto it. That little wrinkle of frustration in your brow. That thinly veiled want for more. For something real. How you rolled your hips deep, like you were imagining something bigger, something that could really fill you up. Something that would make those pretty tears you loved to spill genuine.

It was all on purpose, it had to be. To keep everyone begging. Hoards of men just like him joining your livestreams day after day, just to see if this was the night you finally stretched yourself out good. It never was, and that’s why you were so popular - because you were a fucking tease. And anticipation is one of the best motivators.

That was true for Toby as well, even if he knew better.

He found himself joining your lives every single night. Right when they started, when you were still (mostly) clothed. Every night the outfit differed, and yet every night you still made his mouth water - his hand flying to the bulge in his jeans before you even took your top off.

Lace, silk, satin. Sheer little dresses, crop tops and thigh highs. Boyshorts on nights when you wanted to feel comfier, crotchless panties when you were really putting on a show. Garters on your legs that he’d imagine peeling off with his own teeth. The common denominator between all of your clothes was that they looked expensive, and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

You talked to people in your chat often, addressed them by name, and batted your pretty eyelashes at them through the webcam. It didn’t take long for Toby to realize that you’d do the same for him, if he just tossed you a bit of cash. You’d do anything for the right price, it seemed. He had seen it for himself when you edged yourself for nearly two whole hours, just because a donator had tossed you a grand and told you not to cum. It was crazy to think about, throwing money at this girl just so that she toyed with her own body while you were sat miles away - unsatiated with fingers itching to touch her.

It was humiliating that he started considering it.

It was downright pathetic when he actually did it.

He just couldn’t take it anymore, listening to you moan out all of these other names from those sweet lips of yours. It felt like a crime. Like some exclusive club, he was being locked out of behind a paywall. And though he had came to the sight of you multiple times already, he just knew that hearing you speak to him would buckle him. He’d be hearing it ringing in his ears for weeks, and he wanted that. Needed that.

So he caves.

Proxies normally deal in cash, but Toby was well versed in pickpocketing - so it only took one or two trips into the city before he was walking home with a pretty hefty wallet snagged from the pocket of a businessman. Loaded with credit cards of all different varieties, but he knew that it would only be a short time until his victim realized the damage and locked all of them. So, as soon as he gets home, he’s ripping one out of the leather and typing the details into the account he had made on the website. Your website, as far as he was concerned.

And he knew that it wouldn’t take long for his little spending spree to end, but that didn’t matter. He could always swipe another card from some other brain-dead drone.

It would be worth it every time. He knew it the moment you spoke to him for the first time.

’Oh, that’s a new name. Welcome to the show, Toby. What can I do for ya’?’

His name sounded like gospel coming from your lips. It wasn’t anything special, just four simple letters, and yet they sounded like a prayer. Had Toby hanging onto every syllable. His mouth damn near salivating as he watched the way your lips formed around it, lungs feeling tight as all of the air left them in a shuddering exhale. You were looking right at him when you said it, eyes glinting like you knew exactly what effect your voice would have.

(Of course you did. It was your job to be a temptress, after all.)

He remembered hesitating. Remembered how his body had broken into a fit of trembles and twitches as you eyed the chat expectantly. Waiting for him. For him. He remembered all the blood rushing down to his cock so quickly it made him feel lightheaded. Vision going a little blurry, but you were still in crisp focus. A vignette surrounding the object of his desire. Everything else, wiped away, because nothing else mattered. Not as much as you did.

’Take your top off?’ He felt silly - embarrassed - typing the words out, felt his gut twist when he hit send, even though other people had asked much worse of you. But, they had also paid more.

’Take my top off?’ You had giggled softly, your lips curling into an amused little grin. Like you knew. Like you could feel his nerves radiating through your screen. And he watched as your hands slid down your body, all smooth and slow, dragging it out just to make him sweat. Directing his gaze to your each and every curve, eyes widening in anticipation when they slipped behind your back - undoing the pretty bow that kept your halter top fastened without even so much as a hitch. So easily. Staring right into your webcam when the fabric fell down into your lap.

Braless, of course you were. You always were. Giving him an eyeful of your bare tits just because he had asked. They just sat so pretty. So perfect. So soft when you reached up to toy with them. Kneading them gently, letting out a little gasp like they were just buzzing with sensitivity. Was it for show, or were you really just that easy to rile up? He was banking on the latter when he slipped a hand into his boxers.

He let out a hiss through his teeth, barely even aware of how hard he actually was before he got a hand curled around the base of his cock. Pulsing against his palm, skin taut, precum dribbling down onto his fingers when he gave it a teasing squeeze. Eyes glazed over as he watched you, committing the colour of your nail polish to memory when you gave your already perked up nipples a little pinch. A wicked shudder going down his spine as your lips part for a moan.

‘This what you wanted, Toby?’ His whole body jolted when you spoke his name again, his cock twitching against his palm as his movements grew more and more eager. Shoving the waistband of his jeans down like they had offended him, giving himself more breathing room for more desperate flicks of his wrist. ‘Wanted to see my tits, baby?’ He whines, face scrunched up in pleasure - eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes pinched closed. He wasn’t even watching anymore, but he didn’t even need to. That sweet voice of yours was all he needed. ‘Bet you’re wishin’ these were your hands, huh?’

’Yes- F-Fuck-‘ He gasped out into the empty air of his bedroom. Like you could hear him, like you gave a fuck. Like you viewed him as something more than just another sap you could squeeze dry.

His ears were ringing, hips bucking into every pathetic movement he made. The sound of that obscene ‘schlick, schlick’ filling the air of his empty bedroom between his huffed out gasps and groans, boarded by your voice through the speakers of his laptop - downright taunting him. ‘You’ve gone quiet, baby. Hands too busy?’

It was humiliating, so much so that part of him wanted to fly back to the chat and give you an earful. But the other part - the more prominent part - was in, far too deep. Your voice made him hot, even through the taunts. So much so that he can feel sweat soaking his clothes, his t-shirt clinging to the curves of his back. Beads of it rolling down his forehead. Burning up, pumping his cock faster and faster, not sure if he was working towards or trying to fend off his release.

You made the decision for him.

’Great first impression. Go on and cum for me, Toby. Bet you’re close.’ He saw stars, cumming so abruptly like you knew the whereabouts of some hidden switch within him. So sudden, it knocks the wind out of him and makes his vision whiteout. Groaning shamelessly into the air, not a care in the world that someone might hear him as he just barely registers the feeling of his cum splattering against the front of his t-shirt. He was practically choking for air, thighs trembling like a leaf in the wind. Keeping his strokes steady until the overstimulation was making his gut clench, milking out every ounce of pleasure as if he just couldn’t bear to let it fizzle out.

Chest heaving when he slumps back against his sheets, so dazed he couldn’t even be bothered to clean himself off and tuck his cock back into his boxers. You had moved on already, while he was struggling to piece himself back together, already chatting away with someone else who had offered you more.

He didn’t care. He could barely even hear you. His ears were ringing with the sound of your voice. Replaying it over and over like a broken record. His mind right then was a void that only you inhabited, the sole ruler in his kingdoms of thoughts. Looping a lasso around his rationality and pulling it taut - choking him out with the intensity of his desire.

And it stayed that way. From a regular viewer to an avid patron. Throwing you every dollar he could get his hands on. That initial apprehension fading away, asking you for more and more and more. Getting lewder, more vulgar in his requests of you, and yet you took them all in stride. Just so long as he had the money to back up his words.

He did. He always did. He made sure of it.

’Wanna see you stretch that pussy open, baby’. Fifty dollars.

’Look how wet you are… Better lick those fingers clean.’ Seventy.

’How about you moan my name when you cum? I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?’ Two hundred.

You did it all. Like his own personal doll. A marionette that he pulled the strings for, hanging onto his each and every wish. He couldn’t help but feel special, important to you. Someone who you actually enjoyed talking to, obeying.

It was hard to keep his ego in check. Even harder when it started to seem like he might not be too far off with his fantasies.

You started greeting him sweetly every time you saw this name pop up in the chat. Murmuring out a little ‘There you are, Toby. Missed you.’ Before he even sent you a dollar. Your smiles looked more genuine, giggles sounded more real. The icing on the cake was the blush that would warm your cheeks as your eyes scanned across his request for the night.

You liked him. You had to. Why else would you start catering to him? It was just barely noticeable, but it was enough for Toby to pick up on. The subtle changes in demeanour, the sparkle in your eye when you saw him join your live. He couldn’t help but poke and prod, see just how far you’d go - proof that you were his girl, and that everyone else were just afterthoughts.

‘Cute set.’ He had commented one night, eyeing the scene of you sprawled out on your bed - clad in a sheer black bodysuit, nothing but a pair of pasties and a skimpy little g-string to cover all the good bits. ‘I like you better in red though.’

You hadn’t acknowledged it, but he knew that you saw the message. He had seen the way your lips quirked up a bit, eyes glinting with something downright dangerous.

The next night, you were wearing a deep scarlet lingerie set.

You hadn’t said it was for him, but you didn’t need to. Even as you went on with the show as normal, giggling and flirting with the crowd you always accumulated - the clothes on your body were a statement.

His words mattered to you. It hadn’t even been a formal request with a payment attached to it. Just a little offhand comment, something he was hoping would sink under your skin - and it did. Because maybe, you liked pleasing him just as much as he liked watching you.

Maybe, when you were trembling and gasping as you played with your clit, you were imagining it was his fingers instead. Maybe you had already conjured up some idea of what he looked like - what you hoped he looked like - and that’s what you pictured as you drew yourself closer and closer to your release. Whatever you were picturing, he was sure it was far from the truth.

After all, who’s ideal lover has a hole ripped straight through their cheek? Not many, that was for sure. But that was alright, he was sure you’d warm up to it eventually. He’d just have to show you that he could treat you better than your wildest dreams. That he could keep you happy, smiling, and sated. So overwhelmed by his devotion towards you that you wouldn’t even bat an eye at his more horrific attributes. Maybe, you wouldn’t even mind it if he told you exactly what he did as a profession.

Maybe he wouldn’t even let you.

It was hard to stay… Normal, about you. He knew that there was a barrier between the two of you, that you could never be what he wanted you to be for him. You could never be his, truly. And yet, he found himself fantasizing that you could be. Daydreams turning into reality quicker than he could reel them in, his pupils turning into little hearts every time he clicked on your livestreams. The pounding in his chest and the throbbing in his jeans, only increasing tenfold every time you acknowledged him.

His eyes, dancing across the curve of your smile, mind racing with the thought of what you tasted like. Your lips were always so glossy, but what was the flavour? Cherry? Strawberry? And your skin, so soft, glistening under the lights above you - it was soft, and he knew it, he could practically already picture what it would feel like to sink his teeth into it. Could conjure up the sounds you’d make. Just like you did on camera, but softer, sweeter - more genuine. Only for him, no one else would know what you sounded like when you were actually into it.

He dreamt about you, night after night. Daydreamed about you, when he was out on missions. Slicing through the flesh of yet another victim, but he was barely even registering it. Moving on autopilot, his mind rotted like a cavity from your sweetness.

He knew it would only get worse and worse, unless he did something about it.

Unless he actually had you.

It was easy to find your whereabouts. Reconnaissance missions were a walk in the park for him, and tracking down someone's location was something he was well versed in. It was his job, after all, just as stringing him along was yours.

Maybe, you should’ve been more careful.

It only took a few swipes through your social media profiles until he was able to figure out where you were located. You probably hadn’t even realized how careless you had been, but you had basically left a breadcrumb trail leading him towards you. Oblivious to the landmarks you left in the backgrounds of your photos outdoors, smiling sweetly in every single one - none the wiser that you had practically doxxed yourself in the eyes of someone like him.

He knew what state you lived in. Your favourite grocery stores, and clubs. From there, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what city you lived in. What specific district.

And you had no idea, going on with your life like normal, posting live after life and greeting him sweetly every single time - oblivious to the fact that he was planning a trip to come see you. To come feel you. To show you that, betting on him, wasn’t a mistake. That out of every single man in your chat, there was only one who could treat you the way you deserved. Only one who knew how to.

Him, obviously.

It took a few weeks for him to figure out how to get out there. Desperate for you, and yet still bound by his ties to Slender. He couldn’t just leave, and he knew that. He needed to be close by and ready, on call for whatever gruesome task was offered up to him. But, missions out of state were common, and he knew that, so he just had to sit and wait. Had to keep joining your lives and buttering you up, getting you all primed and ready for when he finally met you.

It wasn’t even a thought that you might not be happy to see him. You had to be. You liked him, laughed at his jokes, abided to his every wish. You were his, and you were just waiting for him to come and get you.

When a mission is finally offered up in your state, he nearly bursts into tears from relief. It had taken a while - nearly two whole months, and he had been jittery and anxiety ridden the entire time. Driven to the point of pacing around his room as your stream played in the background, damn near close to creating a pin board dedicated just to you, complete with red string and everything. He needed you. Needed you so badly it made his skin crawl, his desire an itch that festered under his skin, only able to be soothed by you and your touch.

Viewing you wasn’t enough anymore. And honestly? It never had been. He had known from the start - from the very first click - that he’d never be content just watching you through the screen of his laptop. He needed to feel the goosebumps pebble your skin, needed to smell your arousal as you just grew wetter and wetter, needed to hear the way your voice cracked on a moan - right up close and personal.

He needed you. All of you. Skin to skin with him, like you were made to be.

The mission in your city goes off without a hitch, like it always does. He was good at his job, efficient, but maybe he flubbed the truth a little when Tim contacted him via flip phone to ask for progress. Maybe, he said that the victim was tricky, always hanging around too many crowds to find them alone.

That wasn’t true, of course, he had slaughtered them like a cow on the first night there. Wiped the blood from his skin and buried them in a ditch within a matter of hours. But they weren’t his prime order of business, they had always been an afterthought. Just a scapegoat to get here.

You were the real prize. You had been from the very beginning.

And it was almost as if you wanted him to find you, because you were so stupidly easy to track down. One night hanging around your favourite bar, and he had you in his sights. Dressed up so pretty - sheer black tights ripped at the knees, a little black dress that showed off your each and every curve. Hair done up into a loose bun, picture-perfect eyeliner and glitter on your cheeks. Not even sending him a passing glance as he leaned up against the brick wall outside and lit up a smoke. Laughing along with the rest of your friends as they dragged you into the building. So blissfully ignorant, it almost made him feel bad for taking advantage - almost.

It wasn’t his fault that you were so easy. It wasn’t his fault that you had invited him into your life so easily.

You were lucky he was a patient man, because he waited. Waited, and waited, and waited. Waited until the sun began to peek over the horizon again, a ghost of pink from the approaching dawn bleeding into the inky black night sky. You had waited until last call until you were stumbling out of the establishment - alone. He didn’t mind. Had gone through a whole pack of cigs while he waited for you to have fun, but it was a necessary loss for what he was rewarded with.

You, all flushed and beautiful. Messy and uninhibited. Too drunk to even call a taxi so you just lazily kick your heels off and stagger on home. He followed you down every single block. Didn’t even need to be all too discreet about it, because you were too fucked out of your own mind that you didn’t even notice him trailing behind you.

So easy. Almost as if you did know he was there, and you were just welcoming him right in.

You lived in a quaint little apartment, a shitty little bachelor pad that he honestly wouldn’t have expected. With the money you pull from the pockets of desperate men like him, he’d expect you to live in something much more grand. Something much more fitting for a princess like you. But, he supposed it did also make sense - all those pretty garments you dressed yourself up in, and all those toys you played with, he knew that they couldn’t be cheap. Taking all that cash and feeding it right back into the machine, making sure that you stayed being the perfect fantasy.

You were number one on the charts, after all, and had been for a while. He was sure that wasn’t exactly an easy task to maintain. He watched how you fumbled for your keys, your movements clumsily and unstable - trying one, two times before you actually got the key in the slot. So messy, it was honestly a miracle that someone just like him hadn’t found you and tugged you away on your precarious walk home.

You didn’t really have to worry about any of that, though, he had been ready for it. The two hatchets hanging from his belt had just been itching to spill blood if anyone had tried anything with his girl.

His girl.

Watching his girl stumble into her home. Peering through your window as you tripped through the living room, tossing your heels onto the floor without a second thought. You left your blinds open (of course you did) and you were too wasted to even think about drawing them closed. So perfect. So willing. Just letting him get an eyeful as you unzipped the back of your dress and made a beeline towards your kitchen for a glass of water from the tap of your sink.

Just a hint of bare skin, and yet it would’ve sated him. Near drooling over the curve of your shoulder blades as he felt his pants tighten, breathing going shaky at the sight. You looked even softer in person, even more delicate. All smooth lines and soft curves, not even a single blemish marring your perfect skin. The direct opposite of him, and all the scarring that speckled him.

But then, you just had to go and give him more. Like it was his own personal show, his eyes widened when you shrugged the straps of your dress off after taking a hearty gulp of water. Just letting it fall down your body like water dripping off of your skin - so uninhibited and uncaring, letting it drop to the ground without a second thought. More and more skin for him to rave over, just sending more and more blood straight down to his cock.

You were perfect, he was sure of it. Even better when you weren’t acting. All light and loose, so pretty and oblivious as you reached down to adjust your thong. A pretty little number you were dressed up in, all lace and silky fabric, it was almost a shame that somebody hadn’t taken you home.

But then again, if they had, he wouldn’t be able to stand here, witnessing it all for himself. The relaxed curve of your stomach, just letting your body be free because no one was watching for once. The way your bra cupped your tits so perfectly, how your thighs jiggled a little when you walked. You were a goddess to him, so much so that when you walked off to your bedroom, he was following you right to it. Rounding the outside of your house, his body feeling hot and jittery as he creeped towards your bedroom window.

Your bedroom window, where the curtains were also undrawn. God, you were just inviting him to look, weren’t you? Could you even blame him, when he snaked a hand down towards the bulge in his jeans? Cupping it, so achingly hard just from watching you, though that wasn’t much of a surprise. He had been getting off to just watching you for months now. But this time it was different, because you didn’t know.

You didn’t know he was unbuckling his belt as you unclasped your bra. Didn’t know he was sliding a hand into his boxers when you reached up to massage your tits, a little - aching from being compacted into your bra all day. So beautifully ignorant as he stroked himself nice and slow, trying to keep his groans to a minimum as his eyes stayed locked on your form.

On the way your ass moved when you walked over to your closet, how the fabric of your panties hugged your cunt when you bent over to grab an old T-shirt from your bottom drawer. There was no mystery, he knew exactly what you looked like under those clothes, had memorized it a million times over.

But this time, his prying eyes were unwelcome, and that’s what was really getting him going more. Leaning his shoulder against the brick of the outside wall, he was gasping into the night air, cock throbbing against his palm as he watched how your skin stretched when you pulled the loose fabric over your body. Somehow, you looked even better this way than all dolled up. Just you, your bare legs, and some old faded band tee - nipples perked up so beautifully under the fabric from the air conditioning in your apartment.

You reached up to pull the elastic from your hair as he’s squeezing the base of his cock, trying to make this last even as precum dribbles down onto his knuckles. So wet and slick, so ready for you, if only you were ready to take it. Your hair falls loose, and he’s hissing through his teeth, hips stuttering into his own grip as he watches the way it cascades over your neck. So soft and silky, he could almost picture what it would feel like sliding between the gaps of his fingers. What noises he could pull out of you, just from curling his fingers into a fist and gripping it just a little too tight.

He doesn’t even realize he’s panting until the inside of his mask gets so hot and stuffy it feels like it's going to suffocate him. With his free hand, he hurriedly unclasps it and yanks it off of his face - letting his gasps and stifled groans ring out into the night air. He’s trying to be quiet, he really is, but he doesn’t think he’s been more worked up in his entire life. So sensitive that every downstroke makes his hips twitch and his stomach twist, that familiar coil of white-hot burning heat swirling low in his gut. Leaking onto his fingers, the sound of it was almost even louder than his moans were - so filthy, all for you. Because of you. And you didn’t even know it.

You just scampered over to your vanity like normal, pulling out a packet of makeup wipes from out of the drawer to wash off the night.

That was what got him. He had never seen you barefaced, not once. You were always so prim and perfect. Concealer covering up every blemish, false eyelashes glued on top of your real ones. Lip gloss and lipstick, blush and contour. Meticulously done up to be the woman from his dreams. But seeing you without it? Oh, he didn’t know it was possible for you to get more gorgeous, and yet you just seemed to outdo yourself time after time again.

He liked the sight of the moles and freckles on your face that you covered up day after day. Liked your natural lashes, and the dark circles under your eyes that you hid away with concealer. Your skin wasn’t perfect, donning a few pimples and acne scarring from years before - but that was the best part. It wasn’t perfect, it was real. You were real.

The sight of you barefaced and beautiful in front of your mirror, body just barely hidden under an old t-shirt - that’s what really drove the point home. You weren’t just some girl on a screen. You were living and breathing just like he was. He could see the tired droop of your eyes, the slight sway of your body from the lingering liquor still swimming in your veins. You reach up lazily under your shirt and scratch an itch under your tits while letting out a sleepy little sniffle, and he could just die right then and there. You were so tangible.

Online, you were a doll he could dress up and play with to his heart's content, but here - you were just a tired, messy girl. A real woman. Someone he could so easily reach out and take.

His orgasm takes him by surprise. He had been trying to fend it off, trying to make this really last because the sight of you so relaxed and free was downright intoxicating - but then you lean forwards in your seat. Your t-shirt rides up a bit, giving him a nice cheeky glimpse of the curve of your ass, the way your panties hugged your curves so deliciously, and he was done for. You didn’t even know how provocative you were being, you weren’t even trying. That was the best part.

He has to sink his teeth into his bottom lip when the pleasure crests and pulls him under, biting hard enough to make himself bleed as he takes in ragged gasps of breath through his nose. His whole body breaking into a fit of shakes, hips twitching and jerking with each rope of cum he pumped out. It sullied the grass beneath his feet and dirtied his knuckles, so much of it - like his body could feel his close proximity to you and adjusted his hormones accordingly.

His body slumps, heavyweight leaning up against the outside wall of your home as stars dance behind his eyes. Lips finally parting to take in a few heaving breaths as his head spins. His whole body, so loose and weighted at the same time, it's no surprise when his knees buckle beneath him - thighs shaking as he slides down the wall until he’s seated on his ass. His softening cock still half out of his jeans, his badly aimed load already going crusty against the fabric.

His jaw clenches, and then his neck is cracking to the side. Eyes squeezing shut when it happens again, then again. Letting out a strained little grunt when his shoulders jerk, one hand flying down to curl into the grass below him as his joints twitch and spasm. So overwhelmed, it was like his entire body was going into overdrive, like he was trying to crawl out of his own skin just to get to you quicker. It's humiliating, sitting there like a madman, his shoulders seized up close to his ears as he struggles to wipe his dirtied hand off on the blades of grass below him. Knowing that you’re just one wall away, that you could look out your window any second now, and see the pathetic mess of a man trying to piece himself back together right below your windowsill.

That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want your first impression of him to be that he was just some creep. He wasn’t. He was just devoted to you in ways you could never imagine. The sight of you made his heart seize up and stutter, the sound of your voice had his lungs squeezing so tight that all his air was leaving them in a wheezing gasp. You made him itch. Made him ache. Like you were some sort of infestation, slowly but surely rotting him from the inside out. You’d never get it. Not unless he told you, showed you. Not unless you felt it for yourself.

Naturally, he sticks around. Of course, one night spying on you wouldn’t have been enough. It didn’t satiate the craving, it only fed it. And so, he was making up excuses to Tim on the phone - telling him day after day that the target was tricky, slippery, to not come pick him up yet because he wasn’t finished. He sure as hell wasn’t - he was only just getting started.

He grew accustomed to your routine over the next few days. You’d wake up, brush your teeth, and watch a few episodes of some cheesy sitcom on your television while you sipped your morning coffee. Then, you’d wash your mug in the sink. The same mug, every day. It must be your favourite. After that, you were headed for the shower, to which you hid yourself from him for about twenty minutes every single day. Your bathroom didn’t have windows (a shame), but even if it did, he’d assume your bare body was hidden behind a curtain. So, for that stretch of time every day he’s left leaning up against the side of your house, palming the bulge in his jeans as the image of you - all bare and glossy with water droplets - danced behind his eyelids.

He followed you to the store, to the bar, to your friend’s houses. You didn’t seem to have a day job, but he supposed that wasn’t entirely surprising - you probably got everything you needed just from donations. Hell, you could probably live comfortably just off of his contributions alone. You spent most of your days just lazing around, living off of the funds you’d pulled from your hoard of fans - sometimes taking day trips to the café near your house, or to the mall to buy some new exquisite number to add to your repertoire.

The night was when you really came alive, though.

You didn’t stop doing shows, just because he had gone radio silent. Of course not, it was your job, after all - you couldn’t take a day or two off simply to wait for him. But he would swear that he could see it in your eyes as he watched through the window. You were disappointed, every time you failed to see his name pop into your chat, crestfallen at his absence. Going on as usual, keeping the act up, but he could tell.

You missed him.

If only you knew that he was still watching, just up close and personal this time.

And god, was it better. So close, he could just burst through your window and touch you if he had a little less self-restraint. The camera really didn’t do it justice - up close, you were a dream. The most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on, with the prettiest pussy to match. Absolutely dripping with slick when you sank your fingers in two knuckles deep, stretching yourself out nice and proper - but not as well as he could.

His patience weaned quickly. He could only spend so many nights watching you try every trick in the book to make yourself cum. Desperately tweaking your nipples as you rode your favourite dildo into the mattress, that ever present pinch in your brow - frustration, need. You needed him. He could have you falling apart in mere minutes, he was just sure of it. He’d bet you’d never touch a toy again, after he finally had his way with you.

You were just laying in wait, your entire body coaxing him forwards and feeding into his delusions.

You couldn’t call yourself innocent, when you were just reeling him in like this. He was sure that if he took a peek into your thoughts, he’d find that you were thinking of him just as he was thinking of you. Craving him. This man you didn’t even have a face to match the name for, and yet he had buttered you up so good that you were imagining him to be exactly what you needed to soothe the ache in your gut, the throbbing in your panties.

He could be the cure to the never ending lust that consumed you. He just had to show you.

-

You’re out with friends when he first sneaks in. Finding out that your window was unlocked the entire time had sent a thrill straight down to his bones. Knowing that it's just been that easy this entire time. That he could’ve had you whenever he wanted, that you had just been offering yourself up like a lamb to the slaughter.

Maybe… Did you know that he was here? That he had come all this way just for you? Were you inviting him in? Welcoming him?

It sure felt like it, when he first stepped foot into your bedroom. Dirtied boots hitting the soft carpeted flooring, contorting his body to squeeze through your window until he was fully inside. Shutting it behind him like it mattered at all.

He had taken a moment to just appreciate it all, to just breathe you in. The scent of you was everywhere - clinging to your walls, your clothes, your sheets. The sweet floral scent of your perfume, bordered by your natural musk. The smell of you. The smell that seeped out of your pores on a day-to-day basis. He wanted it all over him. Wanted to bottle it up and guzzle it down. He wanted to inject it into his veins, for fuck’s sake. Let you circulate throughout his entire body and make a home in his heart, keeping you there for as long as you’d let him.

He’s sinking into your sheets before he can even think twice about it. It feels like sinking into the fluffy clouds at the entrance of heaven itself.

Sheets so soft and silky, drenched in the scent of you. The smell of laundry detergent is just barely noticeable, it must’ve been a few days since you last washed them - and god, if he isn’t grateful for that fact. It was like a gift for all of his efforts. Sweet, floral perfume, cut through by the undertones of your natural scent. He could smell your sweat, your essence, the lingering film of shampoo that had smeared against your pillowcase.

It was you. You had been here. You slept here. Touched yourself here, time and time again.

A shaky moan rumbles from his chest as he buried his nose into your pillow, his eyes pinched shut as drool pools in the corners of his mouth. Not wearing his mask, and not bandaged up, it seeps out of the gash in his cheek and stains the fabric beneath him, but he doesn’t care. Can’t care, not when the mere scent of you was turning his brain into mush.

His hands scramble to grab purchase of anything they can. They find your blanket, which he bunches up and immediately drags over to his nose. Inhaling lungful after lungful of that glorious smell, his breathing growing more and more shaky as the seconds ticked by.

Toby felt like his entire body was on fire. Every single nerve in his body set alight as he writhed against your sheets, drinking you in, moaning on every exhale like just the scent of you alone had sent him into heat. It sure felt like you did, with the way his skin was itching beneath his clothes - sweat beading up on his brow and leaving a slick film against his body.

He couldn’t even bring himself to kick his boots off. Crawling further into your little private sanctuary, the tread of his boots smears mud against your delicate sheets - sullying them, leaving his mark. He’s too far past rationality to even notice. “F-Fuck-“ He chokes out into the empty air, his voice raw and strained - the soft curse clawing its way out of his throat as his crudely bandaged fingers grip your blanket like a vice. With his eyes closed, and his nose stuffed full of you, it was easy to imagine that he was clinging onto your body instead. Burying his nose in your neck, getting to drink in this scent straight from the source.

His hands slip through the sheets, hips twitching against the mattress subconsciously. Drool pooling in his mouth and dribbling out of the gash in his cheek to stain your satin pillowcase.

He’s never felt more filthy in his entire life. Not when stained with blood, not with skin caked in mud and grime - but now. Smearing the raw essence of himself against the sweetness of your personal space. Taking something so pure and tainting it, leaving a mess of mud, sweat, and spit against the sheets you were probably aching to sink into after a long day.

It was no secret that his time was limited. That this little stolen moment of depraved bliss could be cut short on a moment’s notice. He knew that you were out with friends, but for how long? Long enough for him to bask in your sanctuary for enough to make the itch under his skin finally cease? Long enough for him to press his face into your pillow and moan your name out like it’s gospel, lungs tight with the need to have your hands on his skin?

Long enough for him to come up with a good enough explanation for why he’s here? A reason that wouldn’t scare you off?

Because that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He knew you had an image of who he was, and how he acted in your mind. Probably some handsome man loaded with money, that didn’t bat an eye at sending you thousands of dollars on a whim. Not… This. Some panting, twitching mess on your bed, minutes away from soiling his boxers just from huffing the scent of your shampoo.

Toby wasn’t so far removed that he wasn’t aware of how this must look for him. How it would look to you if you stumbled upon him. You’d probably be halfway through a frantic conversation with the cops before he could even get a word out.

He was so far removed that he didn’t care.

He was weighted by the force of his desire, head too clouded to even think about pulling himself away and cleaning up the mess he had made.

Besides, even if he did leave before you got home, he was rather keen to leave evidence of his presence.

He wanted you to know he had been there.

He wanted you to know that it was him. That he did it. He ended up exactly where he was supposed to be this entire time - in your bed.

You could be terrified, or repulsed, but Toby knew you’d come around eventually if he just talked you through it. You liked him, after all.

You wouldn’t have worn that lingerie for him if you didn’t.

He liked to think that you had just been waiting for him this whole time. Yearning for him every time you looked through your chat and didn’t find his name. Hoping that he would come find you - and he did.

Ideally, the shock of his presence in your home would just be a little hurdle to step over. Something that would quickly fizzle out once the excitement of him needing you just as badly came to fruition. Like a hit off of a cigarette - just a slight burn before that warm gooey feeling took over your veins.

He hoped that you’d be just as easy as you portrayed yourself to be. Just falling right into his arms, because you knew just as well as he did that he was exactly what you had been needing this entire time.

And if you were difficult? Well… He could work with that too, but he was really hoping that you’d be receptive.

He wanted to love you, not scare you.

And maybe, he could’ve done this in a better - safer - way. Wriggle his way into your life like he was always meant to be there. Slip into the club you like on one of the nights you were there, chat you up, let you lead him home, cook you breakfast in the morning. Show you, right off the bat, that he had always been the missing piece. Care for you. Love you. Show you what you deserve.

Make you fall for him, like he did for you, never knowing how deep his affection - obsession- ran.

Get you so ensnared, that if you ever found out about the blood that stained his hands, you wouldn’t even bat an eye, because you loved him and you knew that side of him didn’t make up who he was fully.

You had too sweet of a heart not to accept him. Maybe, you’d even let him take you back home with him.

But, that best case scenario would only play out in his fantasies, and maybe he should’ve known that. He had been on a streak of good luck when it came to you, for so long that it was starting to grow suspicious. The attention, the naivety, the ignorance. Easy to track down, a sense of security, and unlocked windows. It had been far too simple, up until now. If it kept on this way, Toby would’ve started to think there was some sort of higher power on his side - overseeing and endorsing all of his misdeeds.

Of course, though, that couldn’t be the case.

If there was a god, they were simply setting him up. Letting him climb higher and higher until he inevitably fell flat on his face.

Good thing he was well versed in just ‘walking it off’.

The sound of your front door unlocking hits Toby’s eardrums like a shockwave. The telltale jingle of your keys makes his eyes snap open almost alarmingly quickly.

He knew it was a possibility, but he had been banking on the fact that it just wouldn’t happen. That, against all odds, you’d come home long after he had disappeared again. But he had been selfish - greedy - overstayed his welcome because he couldn’t fathom the idea of tearing himself away from the things you’d touched. It was the closest he could come to have you draped over him, and to peel himself away from that - it felt like leaving a limb behind.

He could’ve played it safe. Could’ve just snagged a few items of your clothing to satiate the urge whilst still keeping his anonymity for a bit longer. Do it properly. Respectfully.

Instead though, he overindulged, and now he was here - frozen in your sheets with his pulse going overdrive, and a throbbing in his jeans.

Now, he was left with a few options.

The most logical one would be to hightail it out of here. To slip back out your window, go back home, and let you panic by yourself once you found his boot prints stained into your carpet.

Or… He could stay. Finally meet you face to face.

For someone as far gone as he already was, the choice was a clear one to make - the idea of leaving was quickly thrown to the wind. To come this far and not be met with a prize for his efforts? It almost felt unthinkable.

So, he waited. Sat up, scooted towards the end of your bed, and sat there - shaking hands folded in his lap like a boy waiting for his first date. Still red in the face, still twitching and jerking because the excitement coursing through his veins was turning his tics up to eleven. Anxiously tapping his foot against the floor, ears perked to listen for every little sound you made as you moved around your house

Nervous. Giddy. Already thinking of exactly what he was going to say to you when the two of you met eyes. Hopeful, that you wouldn’t run off. Piecing together a game plan for if you did.

Footsteps down the hallway make Toby’s heart rate jump, his eyes widening a little in anticipation as he listened to you draw nearer and nearer. God, he could only imagine what you were going to look like when you finally cracked your bedroom door open. He'd bet the look of shock on your face would be sweet enough to give him a toothache.

A soft clearing of your throat outside the door. A creak as the hinges swing open. Then;

You notice him immediately - unsurprisingly. In the soft, clean atmosphere of your room, Toby stuck out like a wine stain on white fabric. An outlier so jarring that your breath stops halfway in your chest, your entire body locking up in a mixture of fear and shock. Paralyzed in the doorway, wide eyes locked on the man sat on your bed. The stranger in your space. Sitting there, like he had every single right to be there.

There's a stretch of silence where neither of you say anything. Where neither of you move. You blink a few times, like you’re half-convinced you’re hallucinating him - still stuck in a shock-induced stupor with your fingers curled right around the handle of your door. But then, he lifts a hand, gives you a lazy little wave - and the idea that this might just be a fucked up mirage your brain was casting is shattered.

This was real. He was real. The mud stains on your carpet proved it, just as much as the slow smile his lips stretch into.

That realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and Toby watches it happen.

You jolt, jumping back about a foot into the hallway, a panicked tremor making its way through your entire body until every limb was shaking. He could hear your breathing from where he sat - short, sharp breaths that just bordered on hyperventilation. Your eyes water, a half-choked sound somewhere between a yelp and a scream breaking on its way out of your lungs.

You looked about two seconds from just passing right out.

God, you were pretty.

“W-Was hoping you wouldn’t be scared.” Toby murmurs softly, pushing himself up and off the bed. He doesn’t step closer - not yet - just stands there with his hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side a little as he observes you. You watch as his eyes trail down - from your face, across your abdomen, down your legs, then back up again. Not even trying to hide it. “You’re e-even cuter in person, you know.”

“What the fuck-“ Toby can practically taste the fear in the air when you breathe those words out, soft and shaky. Your entire body is coiled tight like a spring about to snap, probably warring between booking it to the nearest telephone, or staying to see what he wants out of morbid curiosity.

If you were actually a victim, you’d be the type to give him ample time to move in close. He’s thankful for that fact. It’s always easier to deal with the ones who freeze, over the ones who run.

“You-You know who I am?” Toby asks, trying to keep his voice measured. It’s difficult, with the excitement coursing through his veins, and the slight giddy tremor to his words betrays that.

He takes a step closer, you back up one. He snorts out a soft laugh in response. Maybe you were smarter than he thought. Maybe you knew that bolting away would never actually bode well for you.

“What? No.” You squeak out, like a little mouse - cowering as Toby takes a step closer, then another. You match each one, stepping back every time he advances on you, but his strides are longer. His ambitions are stronger. He’s calm on the surface, that buried down glee just barely poking through with each erratic jerk of his shoulders. But when you lock eyes, the look he gives you says it all.

‘If you run, I’ll catch you’.

And you’re not quite sure that you want to test that.

“Sure you d-do.” Toby chuckles softly, his lips curling into a smile that sends a shiver down your spine. The gash on his face stretches and twists with the movement, gnarled and grotesque - the sight making your stomach lurch. “S-Sure, you don’t know me like this;” He gestures towards himself. “But you kn-know me. Have for a-awhile now.”

“I think you’re mistaken.” You stammer out, voice hoarse. Your heart slams in your chest so wildly that you can hear it in your ears, your lungs feeling tight with each breath in. “Listen, I don’t know what you want, but-but I don’t have cash or anything-“

“Cash?” Toby barks out a laugh that makes you jump, your entire body tensing up even more. “You think I-I want cash? G-God, no. That’s not h-how this works.”

He meets you at the doorway, tilting his head down to meet your frightened gaze. “I don’t t-take money from you, I give it t-to you, remember?”

Your face twists, a mixture of confusion and dread mixing together on your features into something so delicious it only makes Toby’s smile widen. You’re precious. Clueless. He’s almost tempted to just keep you this way, suspended in the unknown. Scared and clinging onto his every word; it’s a good look on you. “Oh, c-c’mon, don’t act like you ha-haven’t missed me. I’ve been keepin’ track. Watchin’ how s-sad you get when I don’t pop in among the h-hoard of losers you accumulate.”

His hand stretches out, bandaged fingers curling around your wrist before you can even attempt to jerk away. You try to pry yourself free, his grip only gets tighter. “You m-missed me, yeah?” He murmurs down to you, his voice low. “Tired o-of pretending to like all of those other dumb ff-fucks?” His grip squeezes tighter, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper. You could practically see him preen at that sound. “You p-put those shows on for me, I kn-know you do.”

You can’t help but yelp when he tugs you in closer, stumbling over your own feet whilst trying to wrench your arm from his grip. Your eyes sting, tears welling up in the corners as your limbs shake. Every word he’s saying is barely even registering for you, just white noise to mix in with the ringing in your ears. That is, until; “Kn-Knew you were mine the d-day you wore red for me.”

The worst are soft, but they have all the effect of a gunshot. You feel your legs get weak, eyes widening to a near painful degree as you finally snap your gaze up to meet his. You don’t breathe for a solid five seconds, shivering like he had just dumped a bucket of ice water onto you.

It takes all of the effort in the world to choke out a response.

“Toby?”

It’s instant, the smile that spreads across Toby’s face - a grin that’s all teeth and sick satisfaction. His grip on you tightens just a little more, his fingers biting into the flesh of your wrist with a pressure that promises bruises. He just can’t help it when a sharp, elated laugh leaves his lips - his eyes sparkling under the low light with some corrupted form of excitement.

“I kn-knew it!” He breathes out, hot breath fanning against your face when he ducks his head down just a little lower. “Fuck, ha-had me thinking I was c-crazy for a second there. Looking f-for signs where there weren’t any.” His gaze wanders over your face, his expression almost crazed in the way he regards you. It’s then that you notice he’s trembling almost as bad as you are. “But n-no, you did do it for me.” Another soft laugh. “You like me, d-don’t you?”

“Wait-“ You manage out, your voice trembling. “You can’t just-“ Again, you try to wriggle your grip free - to no avail. “You tracked me down?”

Toby’s grin only stretches wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he yanks you in even closer to him. Just a hair’s width away from bumping straight into him. “L-Let go of me-“

“What? D-Did you think it would be hard to?” Toby snickers, before his head dips down lower - taking in a less than discreet whiff of your hair with a shiver trickling down his spine. “You were s-so easy to find, baby. Almost like you wa-wanted me here.”

“That’s not-“

“I think it is.” Toby’s breath fans against your ear, before he’s leaning in just a bit closer - closing the gap between the two of you. He shudders when his nose presses against your jaw, his lips parting in a silent gasp. You were so warm. “I’m not s-stupid, you know. You’ve been n-needing me here. You’ve been n-needing more than the bullshit you f-fuck yourself with.”

His nose drags up your jaw, and his hands are greedy in the way they just keep tugging you in closer and closer. The one that’s not gripping your wrist slides around to rest on the small of your back - keeping you all but pressed up against him. Right where you were supposed to be. “Don’t know why you-you’re being shy about it. You’ve already given yourself to me, time and time again.”

The feel of your tremors under his palms sing to the tune of your fear, and Toby just soaks it up like a flower in the sunlight. Poor thing, acting like you hadn’t danced your way into this situation. “What?” He murmurs against your skin. “D-Don’t like me now that I’m not throwing c-cash at your feet?”

“You broke into my fucking house.” You hiss, flinching away from his touch. “You stalked me.”

“And you encouraged me.” Toby hums, wrapping his arm fully around you. He’s got you one-upped on both size and strength, so it’s an easy feat to keep you fit snugly against him. He just can’t help it when his heart rate picks up, his mind buzzing with the feel of your soft curves pressed right up on him. It’s a sensation he'd been craving for far too long, and now that it’s real? It’s almost enough to make him drool. He’s sure you can feel his heart hammering against your chest, just as he could feel yours against his. “Y-You wouldn’t have played along if you d-didn’t want to meet me, right? You treated me different.”

He starts to back up, tugging you along with him even as you squirm - slow, controlled movements that show he’s playing the exact same role as he did when he interacted with you. A director. You were just his pretty little actress. “T-Treated me like you wanted me.” He murmurs. “Like the money d-didn’t even matter.”

Your feet feel like lead as he drags you along, your eyes focused solely on his face as he speaks. On all of the features that detract from the blight on his cheek. Pale, freckled skin. Soft fluttering lashes, framing deep brown eyes. An almost boyish softness to his features, sharply contrasting the darkness swimming in his irises. He moved like a bottle rocket about to go off, his whole body tense and twitching even as his face stayed calm. It was just as jarring as it was intriguing. “You’re just m-mad because of how I did it.” Your eyes drop down to his mouth. A split lip, chipped teeth, and stubble trickling down his jaw. “But this is what you wanted eventually, r-right? Me, here?”

Toby finds your speechlessness endearing, his expression turning almost smug as he watches you drink in his features - like this was all playing out exactly how he had wanted it to. “Just say you th-thought about me. Don’t gotta hide it.”

“It’s not as simple as that-“ You mutter out, flinching when your toes bump against his. “You were just… Different.”

“Yeah?” Toby smiles down at you, his expression almost too sweet for the situation you’re in. His expression is almost soft, like your words had soothed something deep within him. “D-Different how?”

“Just… Different.” The revelation of who he was made you at least half hopeful that his intentions were less than violent - and that was what you were clinging on to as he slowly walked you back towards your bed, sheets already ruffled from his presence. “You felt like… Like talking to a real person.”

“That’s because I a-am.” Toby chuckles softly. “Got all the p-proof right here.” The backs of his knees hit the edge of your bed, and it’s just so easy to tug you right down with him when he sinks down into the sheets again - your thighs parting to straddle his, like your body knew its place. Your very cells just knew him, and gave way the moment he asked for a bit of lenience.

You were just as easy as he thought you would be. Part of him glowed at the idea, the other scoffed a bit at how little of a fight you put up. Good thing he was the one who found you first. “M’not gonna h-hurt you.” He hums up to you softly, gazing up at you through his lashes as you sit perched on his lap. “That wasn’t the p-plan here.”

“Then what was the plan?” You’re not even sure why you even ask - you can tell the answer just from the heated look in his eyes. Just from the way his fingers tighten around you a little when they slip down to grip your waist. Getting bolder, now that he was pretty sure you weren’t just going to up and bolt.

“Well, d-depends how nice you’re gonna be.” Toby murmurs lowly. “But whatever r-route it takes to get there, it’s going to end the same way.” A quirk of his lips. “Me, showing you what you’ve been m-missing.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your neck before he finally takes the plunge and closes the distance - stubble scraping against your skin as a precursor to the wet kiss he leaves against you. “You-You know I’m not blind. You’ve been needing more. Gettin’ tired of fucking yourself like some pathetic slut.” You feel his lips curl into a grin against your skin, and you shiver. “Right?”

“That’s not-“ You gasp when his teeth scrape, gathering up the essence of your skin that he licks into his mouth with a soft groan. You know that this isn’t something you should indulge in - you shouldn't be rewarding him for completely disregarding every boundary you had put up. And yet… “It wasn't an invitation.”

“Wasn’t it?” Toby laughs softly, his breath fanning hot against your collar bone. “C’mon… A-All that shit I paid you for? That was just the start of what I w-want to do to you.” His hands give you another soft squeeze, making your jaw clench as you try to bite back a soft noise. “And I came so f-far just to make it happen. Won’t you just let me? Doubt you’ll re-regret it.”

“You can’t- You realize how fucked this is, right?” You breathe out, eyes fluttering. “You had no right-“

“Yeah, I did.” Toby cuts you off as he nuzzles into your hair. “All the s-signs you gave me? I think my reaction was pretty rational.” One hand snakes up to slip into your hair, using it as leverage to tilt your head back - more access for his lips and tongue to roam. “Unless you wa-wanna fess up to leading me on.”

“That’s my job-“ You start, words quickly getting cut short when his teeth nip at the junction between your neck and shoulder. Already leaving marks - making sure you couldn’t just go and forget about him, even if you pushed him away right here.

“I know that.” Toby hums. “But the treatment you g-give me? Nah. That’s special t-treatment.” A jerk of his arm draws your hips in closer, pressing you right down against the bulge in his jeans you had been choosing to ignore up until now. You hated the butterflies that erupted in your gut at the contact. “So now, I think I’ll reap the benefits.” His lips part, his tongue dragging up the length of your neck until his lips meet the lobe of your ear - lapping up each drop of your nervous sweat like it was liquor. “You’ll let me, w-won’t you?”

It’s a demand in the disguise of a question. You’re not quite sure if ‘no’ is even an actual option, when his hands are keeping you in a grip you could only dream to wriggle out of. Your brain feels like mush when you try to mill the thought over, especially when his grip on your hips starts pushing you into a forced grind against him.

He’s not entirely wrong. Maybe you had thought about him - your idea of him - once or twice (or many times) when you were playing with yourself. Maybe you did need something more than what you could give yourself.

And with the size of the bulge he was rocking your hips against? He might just be that.

A break-in could’ve definitely boded worse, right?

You don’t say a word, no verbal confirmation - but the way you loosen up a little tells Toby all he could need. You stop pushing back against his touches, start relaxing under his rough touch. You finally let your lips part in a soft sigh, as opposed to swallowing all of the noises back.

You stop fighting it. You accept the truth Toby had known to be true this entire time. “There we go.” He murmurs against your neck. “S-See? You’re mine. No point in fighting it.”

His movements grow more and more greedy - his face pressed into the crook of your neck as his hands rock you against him. Huffing out hot, heavy breaths against your neck every time your clothed cunt presses down against his crotch. When his eyes flutter shut, he can practically feel the way you throb above him, even through the layers of fabric. Proof that you needed him just as much as he needed you. All he had to do was peel back the layers of fear and hesitance, get your head so fuzzy you didn’t even think about the morality of it all. “Feel that?” He murmurs into your ear. “Only ever g-get like this for you. Can’t fuckin’ think.”

You can feel the hickeys bloom without even needing to see them as his lips travel down your neck - nipping and biting his way to your collarbone. Hellbent on leaving his mark wherever he can. “Thought a-about it so many times - what you’d f-feel like.” A soft moan fans against your shoulder. “You’re better than I e-ever imagined.”

He tugs you flush to him - one hand tangled in your hair, the other one keeping your hips pressed right against his. Never once letting that sinful friction let up. “So fuckin’ soft.” Another wet kiss against your collarbone. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

“Toby-“ You murmur softly, your eyebrows scrunching together as your hips grind slow against his - the sweetest form of torture, making your gut twist with a mixture of pleasure and shame.

“Sound so g-good saying my name.” He hums back to you. “Like some k-kinda angel.” His hips buck up to meet yours, stealing a gasp from your lungs. It sounds like gospel to his ears. “Tell me you wa-want it.” He pulls his face out of the crook of your neck just to meet your eyes - his own dark enough to send a shiver down your spine, his pupils blown out wide. “Wanna hear it.”

It’s difficult to get the words out, because you already know the answer. You do want it - but you shouldn’t. You should’ve called the cops ages ago. Shouldn’t have even ever let him get his hands on you.

And yet here you were, ensnared within his web. Did it even make sense to try and struggle anymore? Would it not just get you even more tangled?

“I want it.” It’s almost an out-of-body experience when you whisper those words to him - your voice barely even sounding like your own when you say it. “I want you.”

Maybe, just because you’re curious to see if he can back up each claim he’s making. If he really can be everything you’ve been craving.

“You do?” Toby grins - wild, almost manic. “Gonna make you w-wish you got this shit on film.”

You can barely even get a thought in before he’s flipping the two of you around with a strength that makes your head spin - your back hitting the softness of your sheets mere seconds after the last word leaves his lips. It’s like you flipped a switch - snapped the last string of his restraint the moment you let those sweet, sweet words of permission leave your lips. He was holding himself back - had been for a while now - you realize that as his greedy hands claw under your shirt, grasping and smoothing over every inch of skin he can find. “G-Gonna treat you good-“ He breathes out, his eyes near feral as he gazes down at you - at his hands, shucking your shirt up to expose more and more soft flesh. “Been th-thinkin’ about this for months. What I’d do t-to you-“

It’s a whirlwind, how quick Toby moves now that he’s been given the green light. You barely even register getting your shirt off. You blink and your bra’s off too - with two desperate hands coming up to massage your bare tits right after they’ve been freed. “So soft-“ He huffs out. “God- the cameras d-don’t do you justice, baby.”

You whine when his fingers sink in just a bit too deep, writhing beneath him as he kneads the soft flesh under his palms - his fingers reaching to tweak your already perked up nipples. With your face scrunched up, you don’t see it - but Toby looks enamoured as he gazes down at you. Completely and utterly smitten. Like he reached up and snatched an angel from heaven, just to drop her right on the sheets below him. “Perfect. Knew you would be.”

One hand stays playing with your tits, lavishing attention across the board like his heart would stop if he ever stopped touching you. The other one, slips down lower. His palm smoothing down the expanse of your bare abdomen before finding the button of your jeans. He doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second - not even to ask you if it was alright. Like he was just so sure you’d say yes, that he didn’t even need to hear you actually say it.

Your hips jolt when he tugs your zipper down, thighs twitching around his hips as he nudges himself in closer.

You can feel that buzzing in your veins swirling together with the desire - that half of your brain still begging you to flee. It’s quickly shoved down by the more rational part of you - already knowing that it’s far too late. “G-Gorgeous.” Toby moans out as he tugs the denim down your legs, his breath catching with each new inch of bare skin that’s revealed to him. Soft and silky, even in just the regular lights of your room. No makeup, no special lighting - just you, and you looked just as gorgeous as you ever have. “G-God- I barely even know where to f-fuckin’ start-“ He says, and yet his hands seem to move quicker than his brain, because he’s tugging your panties to the side before he can even finish his own sentence.

You’re not quite sure what’s more humiliating - the fact that you’re already wet, or the fact that he comments on it. “Look at th-that,” Toby breathes, his voice filled with awe as his gaze drops down to your cunt - red and puffy from grinding down against him, slick glistening between the folds. “You really d-do want me, huh? Already f-fuckin’ drenched.” His words aren’t mocking, not even close to cruel - just so incredibly appreciative. “Don’t worry, I g-gotcha.” He hums softly as his hand slides down lower, tugging a gasp from your lungs when his fingers slide through your wetness. “Won’t even have to lift a finger this time a-around.”

His smile only widens at the way you tense up when his fingers find your clit, his eyes crinkling in apt appreciation at the way you choke on a moan - trying too desperately to muffle yourself, but failing miserably. “You-You’re really gonna be shy now?” He snickers, rolling his thumb against the sensitive nub - soft and slow, just warming you up for what’s to come. “I’ve heard i-it all. Seen it all, already. What’s there to hide from?”

It’s hard to argue with his words, especially when he slips his middle finger right into you with no warning. His fingers are calloused and lean, longer than yours - reaching spots you had tried to time and time again. Like he knew your body better than you did, finding your g-spot after only a few curls in. “How are you e-even this tight?” He breathes out, his gaze dropping down to watch as a second finger stretches you out. “Fuckin’ yourself on the d-daily, and you still feel like fucking heaven.”

“T-Toby, fuck-“ You can feel your brain turning to mush, your vision going blurry as his fingers scissor inside you. Curling just right, pressing into each and every sensitive spot. You can’t even control yourself before your arms are reaching upwards, your fingers curling into the thick fabric of his jacket as some means to ground yourself. “S-Slow down-“ You only ask that because of how quickly he’s winding you up - it’s almost embarrassing.

It’s just impossible to fight against it, with how dedicated he seems to be to your pleasure - his dark eyes watching your each and every movement and expression, taking note of every little thing that makes you tremble just that much more.

“Slow down?” Toby chuckles softly, raising an eyebrow. He only doubles his efforts at that, two fingers pumping into your cunt as his thumb pressed up against your slick clit. “B-But this is how y-you like it. You f-forgetting who I am? I know you.”

If you had the breath to, you’d correct him. Tell him that he didn’t know you - just a fraction of you. Just the ‘you’ that you deemed perfect enough to display. But, you’re having a hard time stringing two thoughts together, let alone a convincing argument when he’s methodically breaking you down into pieces. “Spent w-weeks watchin’ how you work this pretty little cunt.” He grins. “It ain't too much. Y-You’re just mad I was right.”

Your cheeks burn, the sound of slickness every time his fingers sink into you is filthy even for your standards. Your walls are just parting for him, dripping slick onto his digits like a welcoming gift. Proving him right over and over again, your body singing his praises with each wet squelch. “You need me. See that now?”

His head ducks down low, teeth nipping at your jawline as his fingers piston into you - not even the sleeve of his jacket is spared, the thick material stained with your essence each time his wrist snaps forwards. “I-If you didn’t, you woulda pushed me away by now.”

And that, you can’t argue with. Because you should’ve pushed him away by now - should’ve at least attempted to - but the moment you started wondering about what it would be like to give in? That was the end of it all for you.

He was right, and you knew it. You were his. Had been for a while now.

Your body seems to know that too. Your fingers claw at his shoulders as you feel that familiar warmth start brewing low in your gut - your clit pulsing under his thumb, the slick gumminess of your pussy constricting around him as he fingered you closer and closer to your release. There's a part of you that doesn’t want to give into it - that wants to try and fend it off - but the majority? It’s just screaming that this is the quickest you’ve ever been able to get off, Toby’s fingers working you just right. Like all his nights of studying you had paid off. He was damn near an expert now. “Hah- I feel it- You’re gonna cum f-for me, aren’t you?”

Toby sounds absolutely elated, and you can practically feel the excitement radiating off of him as he presses his fingers into you deeper - curls them harder, lets his bites sink in sharper. “Dreamt about this shit. G-Give it to me, yeah? Let me feel it. C’mon-“

You just can’t fight it. You’ve been forced into the role of the unwitting lamb since this all began, and with a wolf like Toby pinning you to the sheets? There's just no chance of winning for you.

(Whatever ‘winning’ even means, in this situation.)

The sound you let out when your orgasm hits you is one that Toby knows will be ringing in his ears for weeks. Months, even. This beautiful, broken cry - choked off and crackling under the weight of ecstasy as your body arches up into him. Sweet, sweat-slick skin pressing into his t-shirt, your lips parted in the perfect portrait of absolute bliss.

And he had been right - you amp it up for the cameras. You act, just like you’re supposed to. Put on a movie worthy performance of arousal, stretching your expressions to the extremes your audience craved so dearly. The real thing was just so much more glorious.

Soft features wrinkled together as your body trembles, your eyes rolling back as your eyelashes flutter - mouth agape as you gasp for breath. He just can’t tear his eyes away - can’t tear his hand away, even when you start whimpering and trying to push at his chest from the overstimulation. He just keeps fucking his fingers into your twitching cunt, over and over again, until tears spring to your eyes. Those, are just as beautiful as the rest of you - pretty pearlescent droplets framing red ringed eyes. Clumping your lashes together, making your irises just sparkle when you look up at him like you need him. “That’s better.” He hums - clearly all too pleased with himself. “Knew you’d been f-faking it on stream.”

“Faking it?” You rasp out, the whispers of bliss still evident on your every feature as you try to catch your breath. You just look like such a dream beneath him - red and rosy, all your soft curves glistening with a sheen of sweat. All because of him. He almost gets dizzy when the thought starts to sink in fully. “I never faked anything.”

“Maybe n-not on purpose.” Toby shrugs, gently pulling his fingers out of you, only to drag his hand upwards - smearing your own slick against your tummy like a brand. His lips curl into a smirk as he sinks his fingers into the soft skin - watching with a keen interest how your flesh indents under his touch. “But what you j-just gave me?” His hand slides back down low again - only a moment’s hesitation in the air before he pulls his palms back, then snapping his fingers forwards again to land a wet slap right against your weeping cunt. The yelp you let out has his gaze turning near feral. “That was different. That w-was real.”

He drags his teeth against your neck, scraping over hickeys that were already beginning to throb - his tongue chasing every bite in attempts to soothe you. “And you wanna know s-something?”

You just barely manage to hum in response, with his presence clouding up your senses. It’s the scent of him - sharp and metallic. The feel of him - desperate and unforgiving. The heat radiating off of him, hot enough to choke you out. He was smothering you, clogging up your pores with his essence so that you’d smell of him for weeks after the fact. It was just as intoxicating as it was terrifying.

You couldn’t tell if it was your body betraying your mind, or the other way around. Whatever the state, you felt like a prisoner within your own sheets - sinking into the bed you made with the man you had unwittingly coaxed to join you.

Every touch was difficult to rationalize. Every breath against your skin was noxious - and yet you just couldn’t force yourself to wriggle free. Something sick within you wanted this - wanted him. Something sick had parted your lips and spoken those words right to him. “Bet you-you’ll look even prettier cumming around my cock. Stretched just like y-you’ve been wishin’ for.”

His hips keep you pinned to the bed, but his hands leave you in favour of shucking his jacket off and letting it drop to the floor. “Everyone who w-watches you, knows.” In just a t-shirt, your eyes roam the bare skin of his arms. He’s lanky, but well built - trained for endurance, it seemed. Scars up and down his freckled skin, bandages and plasters covering up the newest scrapes. The shirt was loose, but it clung to him well - keeping just enough hidden to pique your curiosity.

And his face? Well, he was almost cute enough to make you forget how he had even gotten himself here in the first place. “Can see it on your f-face- You need more. Those t-toys just ain’t cuttin’ it, are they, baby?” A deliberate nudge of his hips makes your brows wrinkle together. “Need the re-real thing.”

You let out a near embarrassed whine, cheeks going pink like you hadn’t just soaked his fingers moments prior. Lucky for you, Toby finds that cute. Unlucky for you, he thinks it’s fun to push it. “C’mon, say it.” A few soft pats against your core make you squirm, your entire body locking up in a mixture of humiliation and arousal. “This p-pretty cunt’s been aching for a real cock, right? Just begging t-to be fucked stupid.”

“Sh-Shut up-“

“That your way of s-saying I’m right?” Toby snickers, leaning back on his haunches to gaze down at you. “Didn’t expect you t-to play coy, with how easy you are on camera.” Your gaze tracks his hands as they reach for his belt buckle, your eyes widening just a tad when he starts to work it loose. “Look at th-that face.” Toby grins. “Yeah, see? I-I’ll give it to ya’. Just gotta tell the truth. St-Stop playing, and admit you wanted this.”

And what can you even say? That you didn’t? That this wasn't a situation you had conjured up in your mind time and time again? Because that would be a lie. Everything he said, had just a smidgen of truth laced within his words - like he had read you like a book before ever even coming face to face with you.

Yes, you had thought about him. Yes, you liked him more than the other donors you chatted with - that’s why you treated him differently. Yes, you often found yourself wishing there was a real, breathing man between your thighs instead of your own fingers.

Yes, you had thought about Toby (or, your idea of Toby) fucking you before.

To say all of those things out loud would probably be like adding gasoline to a fire, and so instead you just whisper out;

“Yeah, I wanted it.” Which ends up having the exact same effect.

Mere seconds after the words leave your lips, Toby’s damn near pouncing. His belt is off in seconds, whipped to the side to clatter against your floor. His jeans are tugged down just as quick as his boxers are - not all the way, he’s too desperate for that, just enough to let his already leaking cock spring free.

His hands grip your hips and drag you to him - the two of you moaning in unison when his bare cock grinds against your core. Sliding through your folds, getting nice and slick. It felt like you were baptizing him - blessing him by letting his sweat mix with yours, by letting his precum mix with your wetness.

It was everything he’s ever dreamed of. Hot and wet, throbbing beneath him in tune to your own heart beat - like your body was coaxing him into just sinking right in. A slow grind of his hips makes his fingers twitch against your hips - his entire body taut and trembling, shaky huffs of breath spilling from his lips. Catching in his chest each time the head of his cock notched against your entrance.

He had dreamt about this, time and time again, and now that he was actually drowning in the reality of it he felt close to bursting. Almost too much to handle, how soft and sweet you were. How welcoming you were - just how he had hoped you would be.

Of course, you had lived up to his expectations, you were perfect after all.

“S-Say I can.” Toby breathes to you, the words coming out as a shaky exhalation. His eyes lock on yours, deep and intense - searching yours for any hint of hesitation. There's a flicker of it, but only for a moment before you bury it down again. “Tell me you w-want me.”

And you are far past pretending.

“Want you-“ You gasp out, your hips jerking with each nasty roll of his hips. You can feel the mess he’s making between the two of you - sweat and mixing fluids smearing against your pelvis with each press he makes downwards. “Toby- Just fuck me already-“

You can feel it under your fingers when Toby tenses up, his muscles flexing beneath your touch before they relax again - and then, he’s letting out a breathy little laugh.

“N-Nasty fuckin’ mouth.” He’s grinning as he reaches down low, curling his fingers around himself to line himself up properly. “Love that about you.”

Your stomach flips when you feel the head of his cock nudge against you - testing the waters, letting your brain come to terms with the stretch you’re about to take before he presses in further. For someone who’s seemingly bursting with restless energy, he’s surprisingly slow when he sinks in - but that’s because he was savouring it.

Savouring every inch of that tight, wet velvetiness - thanking god under his breath with each inch of himself he sunk into you. You felt like heaven and hell all wrapped up in one. So addictive, he knew that he was fucked before he even fully bottomed out.

He had told himself that this would just be a one time thing - that he'd find you, fuck you, get it all out of his system, then go back to normal life. A small part of him entertained the idea of winning you over and bringing you back with him, but he knew that was a pipe dream. Feeling how your body parted for him, though, it was feeling more and more like something he had to strive for.

Toby hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath the entire time, until he started to feel lightheaded right as his hips met yours. Eyes wide, chest heaving - he gazed down at you like you were a goddess laid before his own sacrifice. A heady mix of awe and reverence that made your skin buzz. “Fuckin’ hell…” He murmurs softly, one hand leaving your hip to slide onto your stomach - pressing down like he was trying in earnest to feel himself inside you. To feel for proof that this was all real.

You watch his eyes flicker down as his fingers twitch, drool glistening on his lips as they lock on to the junction right where the two of you are joined. His hips flush to yours, every inch of himself nestled right where he had been craving the past few months. Squeezing around him, dripping slick down onto him. Throbbing around him like your body was thanking him for being there. “L-Look at you-“ He gasps. “F-Fuck- Look at you-“

His eyes flick back up to yours, pupils blown wide under drooping lids. “S’it feel just as good f-for you, as it does for me?”

That might be an understatement. You were resisting the urge to squirm on his dick, your entire body trembling as your pussy flutters around him in attempts to adjust. He’s settled in deep, thick enough to make your mouth water even with how wet you had been. Slotting into you like a puzzle piece falling into place, filling up each nook and cranny with nothing left to be desired.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had felt this good, so easily. All he had done was sunk in, and you were thanking whatever god had brought him to you. Fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, slipping up higher to knot into those thick brunette curls. Grasping tight, tugging just hard enough to make him gasp.

“You feel perfect.” You breathe back to him, and it’s the whole truth. You couldn’t even dream of lying right now. “Better than I- Than I imagined.”

You let the words slip from your lust clouded mind, and they just do him in.

“Yeah?” He groans softly, his hands keeping you pinned to the sheets as he draws his hips back. “Thought a-about me?” The drag of his cock against your twitching walls is downright mind-numbing - but the feeling of him sinking back in all over again just steals the breath right from your lungs. “Kn-Knew you did.”

His hips roll into you slow and deep, letting you really feel it every time he stretched you back open again. Wanting to etch himself into you - carve a path that anyone else would feel if you tried to get away from him after this. “Didn’t-Didn’t even know what I looked like, b-but you knew you needed me. Needed this.”

The sound of his hips meeting yours is filthy - slick and sticky, enough to make your gut twist. It’s obscene - this entire situation is - but it’s that specific breed of sickness that your body yearned for. It was real - it was raw. It was everything you had wished for on all those lonely nights, tending to Toby before anyone else. “Fuckin’-“ He groans low, the sound rumbling out of his chest when you tighten up around him - a reward for his efforts as he nudges right up against your g-spot. “Fuckin’ yourself e-every night, wishing it was me.”

It’s not clear whether or not he was looking for an answer to that, but when his hips snap forwards harder, you realize that he was. You choke out a cry, your nails scratching against his scalp as you tug on his hair harder - legs squeezing around his hips and arms wrapped around his neck. Completely and utterly wrapping yourself up around him, just as he had always wanted. “It’s true, r-right?” Another snappy thrust has you arching up into him, Toby taking advantage of that by nudging his face into your neck. “P-Pretending to care about all the other d-dumb fucks, but you were thinking about me. W-Wishing I was there.”

His teeth sink into your neck - hard - not enough to break skin, but definitely enough to bruise. Just another to add to the collection he’s already given you. “Say it.”

“I was!” You gasp out, your entire face scrunching up when he picks up the pace. Slow grinds turning into deep, quick snaps of his hips - sinking the entire length of his cock into you on every press in. Absolutely soaked by you, glistening with your slick in a way that had his breath stuttering along with his hips. “Th-Thought about you.” Your fingers grasp downwards, clawing his shirt half up his back as his hips press into yours. Eyes glassy, you can barely even focus on the sight of him above you, but even through the blur you can tell he looks gorgeous. Fluffy brown hair frizzed up by the heat generated by the two of you, sweat beading down his temple, his cheeks flushed a pink so deep it was swallowing up his freckles.

And his eyes. They were devoted to you. His gaze felt like a touch in itself, with the way it swept over every inch of you with rapt appreciation. Like he was memorizing you - cataloguing each and every one of your dips and curves to file away and rave over later. Toby looked at you like he just couldn’t believe you were real, even as his cock punched moans out of your lungs.

Toby looked at you like he loved you, without even fully knowing you. He looked at you, like nothing you could ever say, or do, would tarnish his view of you.

It was something you could barely even wrap your head around, especially now, when he seemed to be hellbent on fucking your thoughts right out of your skull.

“Y-Yeah, you fuckin’ were-“ He pants, his words broken up by sparse groans that just sound so lovely to your ears. Hoarse and strained, like being with you pained him just as much as it satisfied him. “Thinkin’ about me- Fuckin’ this t-tight cunt wishing it was my cock-“

He lets out a harsh, breathless laugh - the sound near deranged, like he couldn't believe you were confirming and endorsing his sickest desires. His movements had evolved to something relentless, his fingers bruising into your flesh - blunt nails clawing off thin layers of skin under them. You jolt every time he sinks in to the hilt, your features wrinkling like it’s just bordering on too much.

It’s an expression he’s never seen on you before. It’s something he’d snap a picture of to immortalize, if his phone wasn't busted.

Yeah, he’s keeping you. He can’t wait to break the news. “G-God, look at this shit-“ He sounds almost manic as he breathes those words out, his eyes gleaming with deranged glee as he watches your flesh ripple with each harsh snap of his hips. He could drool, watching how your flesh moves. He does, but barely even notices when a few spots of saliva seep out of the gash in his face and land on your stomach. “Takin’ it like you were m-made for it.”

And maybe that’s when it clicks for him, that this is the girl he’s watched put herself in the most depraved situations. This is the girl who definitely can take whatever sick desires he’s got brewing.

So, his hands slip upwards, palms gripping the backs of your thighs before he’s pushes up - pinning them right against your chest, your knees damn near touching your ears. Practically folded in half, and yet you don’t even push back against it, you just cry out in a plea for more.

His lips twitch into the most self-satisfied grin when your eyes roll back, choking on a moan halfway through the noise as he sinks in even deeper. It’s enough to make your mind completely go blank for a second - your thoughts fizzling into white noise as he drives his cock into your g-spot with a force that brings tears to your eyes.

You’re too overwhelmed to even notice when tears break free and spill down your cheeks, but Toby notices - of course he does, his eyes have been glued to your face, taking note of every little change in your expression. “So fuckin’ pretty-“ He gasps out, leaning down to nuzzle against your cheek. His lips part, his tongue darting out to lap up your tears, a deep groan rumbling against you as the salt meets his taste buds. “So fuckin’ m-mine-“

It’s humiliating, the way your body sings at those words. That sweet possessiveness that he had no right bearing, sinking deep into your veins like a drug. Because if that was true - if you really were his - it sure felt like a nice thing to be.

“M’yours-“ You’re half delirious as you choke those words out, barely even thinking about the weight they hold as your cunt clenches around his cock. Taken right to the brink all over again, toes curling by his shoulders as he fucks your next release right out of you.

And this time? It’s messy. It’s something you had strived for on stream because you knew it would get clicks, but you just couldn’t ever make it happen with your own hands. Toby, though, does it easily - fucks you deep until you’re gushing all over him - hot, wet, droplets of your release hitting the front of his t-shirt and staining it.

You borderline convulse - twitching and crying beneath him as he works you through the aftershocks, his eyes shining with a feral glee the entire time.

“E-Even fuckin’ squirting for me?” Toby chokes out a disbelieving laugh, the intensity of his movements only increasing tenfold upon that revelation. You can feel it as his cock throbs inside you - his thrusts going sloppy, teetering on the edge right along with you. “You really d-did need me, baby.”

His hands keep your thighs pinned, leaving you nowhere to squirm away, even when you get so sensitive it makes your skin crawl. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you-“ He gasps out, and you’re almost sure your ass must be red from the force in which his hips are snapping into yours. “Gonna cum s-so deep you’re gonna fuckin’ taste it-“

Even if you wanted to argue that, you can’t - reduced to just a mess of tears and drool as his cock bullies your g-spot over and over again, just fucking more release out of you on each stroke in. Toby loves the mess, though, and if the elated look on his face didn’t prove that, his twitching hips sure do.

He only manages a few more sloppy thrusts in, before he’s making good on his promise. His hands keep you folded in half, his cock sinking in deep enough to make you choke before he’s completely letting go. A strangled groan vibrates against your ear as you feel that hot, sticky warmth bloom inside you - Toby’s hips jerking with each thick pulse of it he deposits deep inside your warm, waiting body.

For you, it feels like completely giving in. For Toby, it feels like confirming the claim he had staked on you from the start.

Feeling it drip out around his cock to stain your thighs, feels like leaving a mark that you couldn’t soon erase - even if you wiped the evidence from your flesh. “Feel that?” He murmurs softly, his body curling over yours - his face pressed into your neck as he pants against your skin. “M-Means you’re mine.” His hands give your thighs a tight squeeze, his lips curled into a sated smile against your skin. “Go on and f-fuck another guy after this - he’ll just be fucking me d-deeper into you.”

But that’s something you’re not even sure if you could fathom after this. The aches he placed in your joints would linger for weeks. The thoughts he placed in your head would stick around for years.

So, you just pull him in closer - let his softening cock stay warm inside you as you curl your fingers into his hair.

Not too keen to let go, just how he had known you would be.

-

“Toby, c’mon, I’m about to start rolling.”

Toby wasn't quite sure how exactly he had expected this all to end, but you - perfect you - transformed his deepest fantasies into reality.

Sprawled out on his bed now, dressed up in the prettiest lingerie he had picked out, waiting for him with your legs folded beneath you.

Like a dream he just couldn’t wake up from, no matter how many times he pinched himself. Gazing up at him with those sweet eyes that had stolen him from the start.

“A-And what’re we going for today, hm?” He hums as he fiddles with the goggles nestled in the strands atop his head. “Got s-specifics for me?”

Your hands are already reaching for him when he draws near, curling into the hood of his sweater and tugging him in closer.

“Nah.” You grin. “Just keep the mask on.”

And that, he can do.

——————————

HIIIIIIIIII I’ve been teasing this one for ages now lmfao can’t believe I finally got it out

huge thank you to my lovely lovely beta who got to watch me crank this shit out in real time!

and thank youuuuuu allllll for reading <3

[angxlblxxd]

thinkin abt domesticated ticci toby....

ticci toby... who gives you life updates on everything. he makes sure to text you as soon as he arrives at a new mission; taking pictures of cool nick-nacks, dead bodies, and tim n' brian. he'll even send you selfies of him posing with a mutilated corpse, topped with a peace sign and the brightest smile you'd ever see on his face.

ticci toby... who gets nervous when you don't text him back right away. there will be a soft pout on his face, and he'll pause in the middle of cutting someone open just to text you. 'babyyy I miss u :((' or 'answer me my angelllll, imma die w/o u :((('. tim n brian are pissed everytime he stops just to check up on you.

ticci toby... who becomes more desperate the longer you go without replying to him. he becomes sloppy with his work, twitching and checking his phone more often than usual. he begins pestering the other two to hurry up. after all he's gotta see his angel.

ticci toby... who gets dropped off ( thrown out the car ) at your house. he rushes to the door, hurriedly shaking the doorknob before realizing it'd take too long and entering through your open window. tim n' brian shake their heads, praising you for keeping up with his over-eccentric behavior.

ticci toby... who runs into your house all nervous, his eyes darting anywhere and everywhere around your living room. he wants to rush right into your bedroom, but he makes sure to kick off his dirty boots as to not soil your carpet. he's desperate to find you, but he'd be damned before he ruined your things.

ticci toby... whose heart melts at the sight of you asleep on your shared bed. he'll quickly strip himself of his grimy, bloodied, clothes, before tangling himself into the sheets and subsequently you. then he'll pepper kisses all across your skin. your lips, your cheeks, your eyelids, all while giggling to himself gently.

ticci toby, whose hopelessly and madly devoted to you.

ugh. THEEE love of my life right here. I'm kissing him till my lips bruise.

[hahadit]

he is stopid

[marineflamez]

another gravity falls animation! :3 hope yall enjoy!

[crystalgastles]

“Jeff and Toby are so sweet”

My Jeff and Toby