[kittentoby]

𝔂𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 ── 𝓫𝐚𝐛𝐲 , 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 ! ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

֪𓏼𝜗℘ beginner writer. african american. baby pink. aries. deer. creepypasta. invincible. hayden christensen. slowest writer in the universe. ticci toby. my hero academia. i looove izuku. i love cats. 𓏼𓏫 ͡꒱͏

masterlist ִֶָ 𓂃 working on requests

[kittentoby]

SCOTT BARRİNGER FICS PLEASE

and ofc , ofc !

next on my list as well , thank you for being patient.

[kittentoby]

I love your writing and you’re so creative!

Can you pleaseee continue with the mark Grayson college storyy. Maybe one wheres there’s a rumour on campus and they get into an argument and it all just ends up being solved a different way. Like angsty smut.

Hope you see this, stay creative and never quit

I just wanna let you know that I’m working on it rn ! I have more free time now. No exact due date , but I’m gonna try to be speedy about this !

i’ll reblog this very post with the story once im done.

thank you so so much anon for being patient , and this is incredibly motivating to me. thank you again.

hope this message finds you well <3

[kittentoby]

⋆‧° 𓏲ּ𝄢 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ( ꣑ৎ )

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, DIARY ENTRY 𝐎𝐍𝐄: starting with a flashback to how you and Knight! Toby used to be. You’re a princess, Toby Rogers is a knight. You two are young and in love, but can’t be together due to kingdom affairs— and Human! Jack Nyras, a prince who’s supposed to be engaged to you. This is intended to be a mini-series.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒, fem reader , kingdom AU , eventual smut , and not very canon , starts off with flashback

You and Toby were close, at least when you were seventeen. You were young and naive, believing that you and Toby were mature enough to make your own decisions. Living in a kingdom will quickly make you realize that whatever prowess you think you possess can be easily crushed with tremendous power in the blink of an eye.

Buried beneath the burdensome iron and steel, there was a boy who dearly and tenderly cherished his princess. He was loyal to you, your kingdom, and the ruler whom he served. He was good at what he did, even as a squire. Silver sword dexterously impaling enemies. It was second nature to Tobias Erin Rogers. The brown-haired boy was intense when it came down to service. He dedicated everything to the person who had rescued him from the slums, saved him from ridicule, and trained him.

He was a passionate blend of sadisticness and meekness. Sweet-tempered only to you. Deadly silent and obedient to others, especially when it came to his ruler, like a compliant guard dog snarling at the mouth, baring his teeth at those who dared to bother his loved ones. However, he’d always come back to the flowered garden with you, lying in the flaccid grass devoid of his hefty helmet, nimbly holding your hand up to his scarred mouth, gingerly kissing the backs of your fingers as they involuntarily curl flusteredly.

It was something you two shared. You both wanted to stay blissful like this. But there was this agonizing tick in the back of your mind, like a clock, serving as a reminder that you still had political duties and relationships to upkeep for the sake of your kingdom. Unfortunately, this means you will be engaged to Jack Nyras when you reach the age to do so. A boy you didn’t even know well or care about. He was to come to the kingdom tomorrow. Dreadfully, you withdrew your hand away from his, tucking it in the lap of your poofy, white dress.

“Your h—highness,” Toby stammered, "is something wrong?” He looked intensely at your form, burying his arms into his own lap, trying to give space the best way he could as you vented. Not much needed to be said, as what was to come on the next day weighed greatly on your minds. You sway back to him warily, glimpsing through your lashes. “You know what I’m thinking about.” He groaned before tightening his lips, offering a silent but defensive nod back as a response.

You continued, “Maybe we could run away...?” A stupid, childish thought. It’s easier said than done to escape from a kingdom as powerful as yours. Both of you were seventeen, and attempting to flee isn't easy at all, considering your positions. Tobias wasn’t just a regular squire; he was one of the most promising and loyal ones. And you were in a position of royalty.

A throaty swallow before he continued. “R-run away?” He repeated. Marking where the conversation tread into uncharted territory. Running away was an ungraspable thought. Run back to the foul arms of commoners who shunned him for his ‘behavior?’ Back out to the place, cold and unsure if you were going to live or die. 

He yearned for residence in a place brimming with security and affection pouring from every angle, all for him. It’s something he’s always desired after being deprived of it. Your father granted his wish. Blessing him with a place that he could finally call home long after years of torment, where instead, he could be seen for his victories instead of his differences.

“If we pack our things and bring a map and money, then maybe we could finally be together nd even—” He interrupted, “I—I swore never to disobey him.” He attested to his promise, but his response sounded almost automatic. 

You scoff. “You’re already disobeying by being with me, alone." He didn’t respond, as it was the harsh truth. Yet, even though it was hypocritical, he stood his ground to the very end. One thing was undeniable: this strong sense of loyalty came from fear. You could imagine running away and thinking it’s a reasonable idea because you’ve never actually been outside. But Toby, who's experienced it, never would want to go out again.

“I-I can’t just up and leave, a—abandoning code.” He declared sternly this time. Both of you had your frustrating reasons. Your father wants to take the one thing that isn’t an agreement away from you. A love that’s familiar and natural. You had a plunging fear that you’d ultimately lose Toby at the hands of your father. Alongside the anxieties you had about the boy you’ve never even met residing in the castle, the next day.

“I-I don’t want to be without you—I-I don’t.” As if the thought were agonizing. He spoke in a smaller voice, but you could sense the quiet storm forming in his chest. The thought of losing everything he was given was scary. A deep breath. "I know," you whispered, “I feel the same.” You finish as you lie on your back, looking at the sky. 

Undoubtedly, both of you were stuck.

Crunch—crunch.

While you mindlessly lay there, his ears perked up. Picking up the sound of boots crumpling leaves. His instinct led him to hoist you off the ground. Just when you were about to speak, he snappily shushed you. He prepared the horse and helped you get on, and you two left as quickly as the wind. Those were the measures they had to take; he’d be in trouble if he were ever seen with the princess, alone, being flirty, so they needed to stay alert.

Jack Nyras and his family approached the kingdom the next evening. They were wealthy; you could tell by their presence and clothes. The way Jack’s father wore his fur robe with pride, the soft dotted material draping his broad shoulders almost like a protective cape, pooling on the marble floor. And alongside him, his wife. Elegantly walking beside him, heels clicking in a rhythmic beat, looking more like an expensive trophy than a woman. 

The Nyras, the newest and most welcomed addition to the kingdom, but of course, one of them was destined to bring along a stir-up of trouble.

Jack.

He was quick to observe, gathering information before he spoke to anyone.

Mostly because he was quite introverted.

The first day he arrived at your kingdom, he noticed how you were with the knight. You certainly weren’t friendly with him. It wasn’t hard to spot the feelings you both had for each other. He just wondered how the knight hasn’t gotten into trouble yet if it’s so obvious. At least it would be intriguing to watch a princess with a knight; he wouldn’t be entirely bored here. He almost wanted to test it—seeing if you’d fall for him instead. It’s a cruel thought, but he wouldn’t act on it much, as he didn’t want to deal with romance anyway. 

He knew that he was to marry you. He didn’t take it personally when he first heard the news, calmly eating dinner at his table as his father delivered the news. He knew that this was just business, even from a young age. He had his fair share of heartbreak. He’d rather not go through it again, especially with some princess he doesn't know. A marriage didn’t have to be made of love; it could just be an agreement.

Though maybe he was still bitter about his own love life.

His father noticed him standing there, watching the two. “Get to know her, son." His father commanded, knocking him out of his trance, lightly pushing the boy towards you. 

He collectedly strolled to you, hands tucked respectfully in pockets. “Your highness.” He greeted, before giving a humble bow. You were easy on the eyes, that was for certain. “Oh! Greetings. You must be… hm! Prince Nyras?” You question, feeling quite uneasy at the way this very… attractive prince is shamelessly checking you out as if you were a steaming piece of meat. “Mhm.” He responded with a polite nod.

“How… put together you look!” You awkwardly exclaim. “I could say the same for you—sorry. Am I making this awkward?” Too much for the first meeting? He wanted to end the conversation right there. This was probably the worst first impression he’s ever had. He could tell he had made you uncomfortable with his immodest staring, even though he didn’t mean it. The boy has a problem with staring before actually speaking. You laughed, “You’re fine. If you couldn’t tell, I’m quite nervous as well.” 

“Well,” fixing himself for a moment, "Your castle is quite fancy.” You cracked a small smile at his observation, taking pride in it. “Oh, you’ll love it here. We have all types of food, music, and horses!”

“All types of food, meaning… all parts?” He questioned that out of everything. You hum, “Well, yes…?" What are you thinking?”

He was about to say something, but shook his head. “Actually, let’s not worry about that. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He recovered by bowing once more, ending the conversation at that. You silently thanked him for how prompt he was. 

Just when you two were about to go your separate ways, Jack’s father came in, all boisterous. Saving the awkward silence between the pair. “You two need to get used to each other! You’ll be kissing soon.” A loud sigh emerged from Jack, embarrassed by his father. Who just… says that? 

You couldn’t hide the look of disgust that twisted into your features. You haven’t kissed anyone before, at least not on the lips. And if you were going to properly kiss someone, it surely wouldn't be Jack Nyras.

As Jack’s father continued talking your ear off, you reflected on how that conversation went. Jack was completely different than how you thought he’d be. He tried to be serious, but it came out really awkward, yet you learned something about him at least. It sounded like he had an odd niche in different varieties of food. It was endearing in a way. You couldn’t help but wonder what else you two have in common. 

On the other hand, Toby, who was leaning against the cold brick wall, had the displeasure of hearing those words. He couldn’t control how his jaw clenched, and his posture stiffened in envy. The affirmation that you two would have to kiss made him feel worthless. 

It didn't matter how childish it looked; he felt firmly about it. Disguising his envious spite about Jack coming here was tiring. Now that the boy is finally here, he feels the crumbly, cheap mask slipping. Out of annoyance, he stomped out of the room. Going off to patrol somewhere else. Jack saw, and as his father continued talking the princess’s ear off, he took this as an opportunity to sneak out.

Meticulous steps before announcing himself. “You like her? But you know you can’t have her, right? Knight.” Jack smirked, leaning against the stone wall. It was calculated. He wanted to see just how desperate the knight was for the princess. 

“Ex—Excuse me?” He turned around to face him, getting a better look at him. He looked put together, as expected for a prince. Toasty brown, curly hair cascaded down his neck like a waterfall. Deep, brown skin and much taller than he is. No doubt he could easily wow the princess—or anyone, for that matter. Though no time to ogle, Toby spat rudely, “It’s n-none of your business.” 

“You shouldn’t speak to a prince like that. Know your place. I’m helping you.” Jack warned with a flick of his tongue. Toby didn’t think about what he was saying; instead, he just let his mouth run. “I don’t c-care about who you are. You’re not the person I serve.” Toby couldn’t help but be defensive towards him. But he knew that defiance wouldn’t change anything. Jack Nyras was right. You two were still going to be engaged and married, while he watched from the sidelines.

“Nuisance.” Jack muttered under his breath, “I’ll remember this. Be grateful that I won’t tell your master about this blunder.” He wiped the invisible dust off his suit and walked away. Like a gesture to mock where Toby stood in the hierarchy. Below him. The dust that Jack walked on top of.

Toby narrowed his eyes. “W-wh-who are you calling a nuisance? You’re not m-much older than me!” He questioned, but only to himself, as Jack had already exited. He followed after, coming back into the room where you were. 

You were sitting down in a chair, already drained from Mr. Nyra’s lectures. Toby came over, next to you, placing a quick hand on your shoulder. You sigh, “Jack’s father sure is a talker…” 

“D-Doesn’t know how to shut up, just like his son.” He muttered bitterly under his breath, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did in fact hear. You tilted your head, narrowing your brows. “Oh? Where did this come from?”

It’s like even thinking about the conversation frustrated Toby more. “You know what t-t-th-that prick did? He came outside and tried to provoke me.” 

That immediately got you up from the chair, almost comedically. “He did what?” Scanning the room, trying to find Jack. “I’ll talk to him.” He shook his head. “Don’t.” He commanded.

You didn’t understand, “But he’s being an ass—"

“Don’t.” He repeated. You rolled your eyes. “Fine, Toby. You'd better handle it then.” He nodded at that, keeping silent and frowning. You didn’t like seeing him upset, but you knew exactly what to do. “You know what? Come to my chambers tonight, and I bet I could make you smile again.”

“G-gonna try making me happy with your card games?” He asked.

You giggled. “Well, of course. Father did buy me a new deck.”

“Spoiled.” He teased— “Hey!” You yelled.

Night fell, and throughout the castle, it was quiet, as expected, since everyone should be asleep. The only thing one could hear was the cautious pitter-patter steps to your room caused by Toby, not wanting to wake anyone with the sound of his clunky armor. He’s done this many times, like a routine. Once you heard the faint knocks, you hurried him in, shutting the door.

“Toby…” you softly cooed. Taking off his helmet for him, he leaned into your touch like a gentle puppy before you had broken away to grab the cards from your dresser, ready to showcase your skills in dealing cards.

But the pathetic— sad look Toby sported stopped you. One full of solemnity. You weren’t stupid. You knew the thing bothering him was Jack, and quite frankly, you felt the same. You stopped dealing the cards for a moment to speak.

“I’m… still thinking about leaving with you. You know? Or… standing up to my father.” You paused for a second, examining his expression towards your words. He took in a breath. He knew he couldn’t stop you if you really did want to leave. But he didn’t want you to abandon your privileged life for him. 

“I know it’s not well thought out. Maybe even… impulsive.” You weren’t really sure the more you spoke. You had everything, things commoners could only dream of. You have a great father, you lead a life of luxury, and above all, you wouldn’t know how to survive on the outside. You never had to.

“I only want to do this for us.” You naively expressed, but he shook his head in disapproval. This whole day and yesterday, Toby has just been spoon-fed with the fact that he could never have you how he truly wanted you. It’s not worth losing your security for him. 

“I-It’s not worth it.” 

He stood up straight. “Y-you have a good family and a g-good life… You shouldn’t have to throw away everything for me. You know it’s inevitable.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, sorrowfully. Eyes widened like whatever he was going to answer with would crush you. 

“I-I mean… your assigned marriage to Jack. I-It’s okay.”

He paused before continuing. It hurt him to say this. “Safety is more important… you shouldn’t feel like you need to run, and—I… I’d rather not go out there. I-I know it’s cc—co-cowardly of me to say, but it’d be better for both of us if we just accepted—“

“I won’t accept that, Toby. No matter what anyone says.” The words she promised, light and breathy, as sweet as honey, he was sure that those words would forever remain stuck with him. “And you're not a coward.”

“P-princess—“ Before he could finish, a blistering knock against the wooden door caught their attention. “Your highness, open the door.” The guard demanded in a monotone voice.

You were dumbfounded at first. What did they need? If they were coming in, you had to hide Toby. 

Wasting no time, you shoved Toby into your closet, making him hide in the labyrinth of your puffy dresses and petticoats before coming back to the man behind the door. “Pardon me?” You question. 

“Open the door.” They commanded again; they wouldn't take no for an answer. “I’m changing—“ They immediately interrupted. “We know he’s in there. Tobias Erin Rogers.” How did they know that Toby was in here? Was he not careful enough? 

“Come on out before you both get into trouble.” You still refused. You went over to the closet door, whispering to Toby. “Go through the window…” He refused. “T-They already know.” He walked out of the closet. “I don’t wan-want to get you in trouble as well.” Continuing his path to the door, he opened it.

They took him by the arm roughly. “Good choice. You’re in trouble, Tobias.” The old man lectured.

And that was the last you saw him.

yes were spreading indigenous eyeless jack agenda. more to come! thank you for reading til the end!

[kittentoby]

⁺໒꒱ིྀ༝ 𝓹𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 ,, 𝓪𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ! ” ( ꣑ৎ )

♪ ͜͝ ̣̣̥| just headcanons, fem reader, frat au, smut, college au 𓂃 𓈒𓏸

When Nolan allows 𝑀ark to go to college, he gets accepted into a fraternity. Life is all well— he’s balancing hero life and college life— and he meets you! Until he gets into a bit of trouble! Rumors spread fast when you’re popular. How can he ever make it up to you!?

Frat boy Mark Grayson!

He is one of the finest men in the frat. At the parties, it was like he was another person. In classes, though, he was more focused—I mean, he tried his best, but he was very dedicated to getting his education. This was, in fact, his only chance; his dad begrudgingly let him attend, just as long as he was able to balance that life with his hero's life. And so, he did. 

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

He made friends due to his charms. This also got him lucky enough to get pushed into joining a fraternity by the start of the semester. There were, of course, some fuck-ups. Sometimes he was late, and he couldn't keep his face from being mangled.

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

What really sealed the deal was how fun he was. He didn’t attend the parties a lot, due to fighting villains or staying in his room with the door locked to heal, but when he came, he partied hard and never got tired. Combined with his good looks and how he partied, of course, people looking for romance flocked to him, and so… he went on dates. Maybe a lot of dates.

  Frat boy Mark Grayson! 

who had trouble turning down people's feelings, so he went on those dates. But unfortunately, his carefree attitude went out the window when it was just one-on-one with him. He was awkward. 

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

who you meet in class. You guys have done a couple of group projects together; sweet as could be and handsome too. Sometimes he gets behind on assignments, and you sit next to him, so he asks you for help.

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

Who became friends with you, and you guys were innocently hanging out in your dorm to study and help each other out with projects? He was starting to crush on you. 

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

And when you finally begin to have a crush on him… His name began to be thrown around the campus for the wrong reasons. Even your friend told you to stay away from Mark Grayson, and you didn’t believe it at all. I mean… that nerdy guy?

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

Who learned from William, it’s known that ‘Mark Grayson likes to go on many dates with different girls,' a rumor that he’s a player even though it was completely false. Awkward… shy Mark Grayson, who can’t hold a conversation with a person he finds mildly attractive, is a player? 

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

He goes to you quickly, telling you that it’s all a lie. He’d be damned if some rumor ruins his love life. Trust and believe he had his Japanese cheesecake on standby to sweeten the confession.

  “Please! Everything they said about me is a lie!” Mark pleaded with you before he continued. 

  “I-I want to go out with you; I want to be with you. I want to treat you well… if you’d let me.”

Frat boy Mark Grayson!

You guys have recently gotten into a relationship now, and he’s the sweetest… he just disappears a lot. You know he has gatherings for his club to go to and probably something else you weren’t aware of. 

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

Maybe you got a little angry at him, and then it turned into him pulling down your panties and riding his face into the mattress…

  "I'm sorry… s-so sorry.” He breathlessly stuttered out under your sopping cunt, the pink muscle swiping away. Mark was doing everything in his power to give you pleasure after making you upset with his absence. Drowning in the hot juices of your hole, while trying not to completely hurt you with his enhanced strength. 

  He traced his free hand up your body, playing with your pebbled nipples, emerging ragged breathing from you; he found it so hot. "P-please forgive me, angel.” Every time he talked, his voice sent euphoric vibrations throughout your body. God it was otherworldly. You needed this reliever.

  “Y-You can’t just expect me to forgive you easily, M-Mark Grayson,” betraying your own words as you were fucking yourself roughly on his mouth. He came in his pants at the sight. You barely needed to do anything.

  “Don’t you l-love me?” He asked, pleading for an answer even though he was nestled underneath your thighs, his face shiny red and puffy with a filthy mixture of your slick and his own spit.

  "Mark," you scold, gaining a small whimper out of him.

  He kissed your slit delicately, before finally latched onto your pearl, giving it full attention and sucking it like he was hungry. As if your pussy was a spile leaking out sweet nectar, and he was a thirsty man wanting that thick syrup. “Cum in my mouth, please.” Trying to send commands to your clit as if it were a voice-controlled robot.

This was going to be a long night.

Frat boy Mark Grayson!

Who got so pussy-whipped that he begs to eat it anywhere. Shit, even at the frat house he had half a mind just to eat it on the kitchen counter. Fuck it, even on the floor. Maybe he secretly loved the praise and the way you’d moan loudly—like a scream—when he learned how to use his tongue and fingers. 

  Sometimes even when his nose is broken, he wants you to still sit on it.

  “Sit on my nose; it won’t hurt.” He muttered to you, his face half beaten from God knows what. And the only thing he’s concerned about is giving you pleasure for being late today.

  Frat boy Mark Grayson!

Who worships the ground you walk on and loves you? He feels safe with you, and nobody else could grant him such happiness.

[kittentoby]

ׁ ᛝ‎ 𝓴𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ! ” ( ꣑ৎ )

𓏼𓏫 ͡꒱͏ 2k wrds , one shot , touch-deprived Toby , off-written smut 𓂃 𓈒𓏸

𝒯oby’s still a proxy, but also has a secret relationship with you. He feels out of touch because of you. You distract his every thought. Not to mention— He’s touch-starved and wants to see you badly.

Fallen branches sank into the tall grass, breaking underneath the weight of the men— The harsh wind yawning as a contrast to the hushed urgency with which they were proceeding. Brian is at the front, Tim is at his hip, effortlessly creating the steady pitter-patter harmony with the dirt and booted feet.

As a contradiction to the tune, the two men themselves were tight-lipped. Mute. Leather-gloved hands belted tightly around their weapons evoking a slight squeak. Things were going smoothly for them, except for Toby who was behind and unfocused. Thinking about trivial matters like what his partner is doing currently. It was unhealthy to be fully engulfed in what you were up to. But, he was completely in awe of you. When he first laid eyes on you, he knew you were “the one.” or something along those lines, damned if he knew. Maybe it was the way your face glowed perfectly in the window behind you as you stood still, next to your former work partner who was Toby’s target at the time.

He truly believed an angel sang when you spoke out at every meeting, blessing his ears. When you touched him, he wanted to maybe just cut out that piece of his arm, and store the flesh somewhere untouched. It wouldn’t hurt.

But back to the main topic …

Through the windows of the cabin. Like a heaping pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, there lay a brown-haired adult male by himself. Given that he’s slumped on the worn-out couch making himself an easy kill, Toby should be thrilled to wield his trusty chipped axe, rusted with hardened blood of past victims he’d mercilessly chop into pieces. To savagely slash through blubbery layers of flesh and tissue like a ravenous wolf, to watch viscous red ropes of dark blood splatter, decorating his mask and body like a second layer of skin.

He should be excited, right? But, he felt no such way recently. The passion for murdering died out. The thing that made him euphoric became dull like a blade lost of its sharpness.

Every squelch, and stab became stale, as if it were an overplayed song. It wasn’t even his favorite part of the hunt anymore, even though being the brutalist was the role he played in missions. Is it odd right? But things have changed since you came into his life. It felt like he found a new purpose, which, in turn, distracted him. He was so head over heels for you that his once-hobby felt like a responsibility now.

He even found himself taking an interest in the mundane routines of his victims, something that he usually wouldn’t think twice about.

For instance, the target had a great family life. A good relationship with his kids and partner. It made him think of you. The one thing with color to his fading grey world. He wondered what would having a family with you feel like. The thought of an untroubled, comfortable domestic life with you was tantalizing.

Why was a cruel axe murderer dwelling on this? Knowing his line of work, and the lies made it hard to think of a healthy relationship in the future between you two. You believe you know your boyfriend, but frankly, you don't, except for fabrications about his life. Everything he spews out of his cut-up mouth is a desultory lie. Who would want to start a family with a liar and a murderer?

Toby tip-toed away from the cabin. To sit under a tree. He was holding out for the majority of the week— but now he can’t focus. Various things plagued his mind and had already matured in size. Those thoughts consisted of wanting to see your face, to touch you, to get out of this rut of guilt.

To no surprise, his disappearance didn't go unnoticed; The mere displacement of Toby taking a seat knocked Tim out of his focus. “Kid. What’re you doing? Get up.” The man demanded, in a gruff but quiet voice. Toby didn’t move, “Why? It's gonna be the same outcome as every mission.” Toby rebutted, but kept his voice down out of respect for the operation. Maybe it was bratty to point out, but he didn’t care. Toby was aware that he was stubborn, and the two would be lying to themselves if they disagreed with how tedious killing and stalking got.

“It's always boring, but it’s a job we were asked to do so we complete it and go home,” Brian replied, sympathetically, but strictly. Toby understood that it was a job, but couldn't help but think of how much time was wasted. It wasn't a problem until he got into a relationship. Tapping his boot against the ground impatiently, he complained, “We’ve stalked this man for a week and barely got anywhere. It wouldn't be hard to k…kill him already.”

In a curt tone, Tim replied as he took off his mask. “You’re right. It’s not hard. Though, we were ordered to stalk him for a week, smart guy. Do you think we’d half-ass something like this? Maybe YOU would, but that’s why you’re tagging along with us, to learn how to do the job right the first time.”

“I know how to do the job. We-we all do, it's always the same, I never wanted to tag along with you two fuckers.” Toby looked at the other man with cold eyes and stood up. Feet planted into the ground. Tim contorted his expression into one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. “You selfish—“

“You TWO!” Brian shouted. Not even letting Tim finish the rest of his insult. Thank god the target who resided in the cabin was still asleep even after the noisy bickering. “Listen, we can argue about it when we get back. We need to focus on the target.”

“I’ll go.” Toby abruptly got up, before Brian stopped him with his question; “Why are you so eager to leave? What’s at the mansion?”

“I-It’s not what’s at the mansion,” Toby cryptically mumbled, his head hung low, not daring to expand on it. Tim rolled his eyes at the lackluster answer. “You know what? Let him leave. He’ll learn.” Tim remarked, putting back on his mask.

The keys sing a jingle as you fumble them out of your pocket and hurriedly unlock the door to the dim apartment. You kicked off your shoes sloppily, body overworked and slowed from the lengthy hours of work. The boss was so needy today, oh, you were running back and forth. Numerous refills of two sugars, dark coffee, stacks and stacks of paperwork, paperwork, MORE paperwork. The white 12-point Times New Roman lettered pages are driving you up the wall. Not to mention, the snail's pace of the paper printing. You blamed the piping hot steam from the coffee that you were holding for melting your last two remaining brain cells.

Maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But shit, you were frustrated by your boss. He only called on YOU. Compensation for working like a dog? out of the question. Frustrated isn’t the word. Hatred is what you’d use towards that man and his corporation. The aching in your legs and your shirt soiled with sticky sweat spoke in defense for you just in case you wanted to strangle that man. He had you running lap after lap as if it were a marathon due to his important meeting.

Despite all your rage, you were also hoping to see your boyfriend this weekend. Just for something good for once in this hell of a week. You missed him, but you knew that his job didn't have great service, and he prefers not to be on his phone during work.

You tried not to dwell on it, as for now, you had bigger things to deal with— like a shower. You trusted that your boyfriend would come back.

Upon gathering soap, and your freshly washed clothes that sat patiently in your dryer, you were readying up for a relaxing time in the shower. Until, of course, something always interrupts you when you want alone time. That's a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Twisting the knob to the tall white door hesitantly, opening it. Speak of the devil.

“Toby— hey!?” You kicked your shoes to the side nervously. “I didn’t expect you at all, I’m just a little shocked! It’s a mess in here..” Darting your eyes from the mess that resided in your apartment, to him.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back for a while?” you questioned. You opened the door wider, reluctantly letting him into the junkyard that was your apartment.

His head hung low like a guilty dog. “I-I needed to see you.” He said softly, with shaky breath. You hug him in response.

“I really wish I had cleaned before this— it’s been a rough week for work, I haven't had time.”

“I’ve seen worse… Do you need help?” Toby wasn’t the biggest fan of cleaning. Doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t clean at all like Jeff. But with you, he’ll help you out with even the simplest tasks.

“No Toby, this is my mess.” You stubbornly stated. Honestly, help would be nice, god knows how tired you are. The only productive thing you can muster is vacuum cleaning since it was easy, you’d feel guilty if he had to clean up for you.

“Don’t be like that. I-I wanna help.”

“Think you could do the dishes for me while I pick up and vacuum?” You sighed.

He nodded. You clicked on the vacuum and Toby started on the dishes and the two of you began cleaning.

Maybe it's the roar of the vacuum coming to life, filling the atmosphere with its loud vroom. Or the sound of the rag slapping against the glass plate, making a rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack sound every time he cleans another one— But Toby felt… normal. For maybe the first time in a long time.

Though, the grin he unconsciously had plastered on his face, warped into a solemn expression. He had to be realistic, no matter how much he wanted this, no matter how much he wanted to give you the life you deserve. He’s a proxy and he has to lie about it. Brainwashed to serve and serve only. Being an individual? Out of the question.

He must not have noticed how his hand had already shut off the water faucet. Because you looked up from what you were doing, studying his expression.

“Toby? Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m okay— okay.”

Looking beyond his words, and judging by the expression on his face, he obviously wasn’t. To try to calm your partner down, you told him, “Let’s go to my room.”

You walked into your bedroom, and he followed after slowly. Taking a seat on your bed, making himself as small as possible. He followed your movements with guilty eyes as you turned on the TV.

“I can tell something happened… It's in your face.” In this moment, he wished his face wasn't expressive so that he could continue to hide the sadness he felt that pierced through his heart. You put your hand in his hand, knitting your fingers together, reassuring him with “You can tell me anything.”

He stiffened, eyes downcast. “S-sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I just wanna know what’s up with you.” You reassured him.

“There are things I can’t tell you. Some things you might h-hate me for.”

“Toby, I could never hate you, just tell me when you're ready. You mean so much to me.” He didn’t believe that. He doubted that you would want anything to do with him after you found out about him. It was better to lie to you, even though it was wrong, to protect you. The consequences of discovering he's a proxy will drag you into serious situations.

In a small voice, Toby asked: "Did you ever want a fah– family?”

“Maybe, I would love to move in somewhere with you.”

“What if I wasn't able to give you everything you wanted?”

“Right now, this is enough. We can dwell on the future later, together.” Just some extra reassurance that everything's okay at this very moment is enough for Toby. You really were his angel. Then as if you couldn't bless him more, you kissed him, to seal in your words, like a promise. The kiss completely rewired his brain, just the feel of your supple lips blessing his cracked ones. He let out a little whine when you pulled back. No. Why couldn't you hold out a little longer?

“I love you.” He said surely. And you replied right back, with the same three words. He wanted to be close to you again. Usually, he wouldn’t want to cuddle, but he needed it. Toby cuddles up to your chest, inhaling your scent. Tangling himself between your limbs. It warmed your heart when he did that.

“You smell really good.” That confused you a little. You haven’t even showered yet, and you were sweating bullets today. Poor Toby was lost in the salty smell of your sweat. Completely making the once, heart-to-heart conversation to one where he's completely distracted and absorbed by your smell.

“I haven't showered yet, Toby–” He interrupted, “I-I know.” You knew your boyfriend was weird, but that sealed it.

“Can we kiss again… p-please?” The brown-haired boy pleaded, as if it were his final meal. You obliged, leaning in silently. His hungry lips meet yours again for minutes. Toby climbs on your lap oh so submissively, a knee strategically placed in between your inner thighs to make you go crazy.

Finally when you two break— a needy moan emerges from him. Maybe being a week away from you, not touching or talking to you, combined with the conversation ending with “I love you” made him desperate. He was in your lap, studying you in the new position he was in. “Y-you make me… feel… things.”

“L-like. I don’t h-hate myself when I'm with you.” He stated that the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. “Like an… escape?” You softly questioned.

“Mhm.” Holding you tighter, as if you’ll disappear at this very moment. “I just w-wanna touch you.”

“You can.” With consent, he immediately started sliding his hands underneath your shirt to your stomach. looking up at you with his wide puppy eyes before he teasingly placed a kiss on your stomach. Before peppering kisses all across your body.

Then, a piercing ring cut through the tense room. It was his cell phone, residing in his back pocket. He already knew that it was Brian and Tim. Even though the two men let him walk away from the mission, they still wanted to check up on him. He should've known they’d call. He wanted to deal with them later. Even though it was childish, Toby selfishly wanted his proxy life forgotten for just the night.

“I-I don’t wanna go.” He paused. “I wanna stay the night— I wanna be… f-full of you.” Ragged and uneven, his words weren't even making sense. You marveled at the disheveled sight of him, but still greedy enough to kiss your throat, but the collar of your shirt got in the way.

“Can I take it off?”

You wordlessly nodded yes.

He fumbled a little, taking it off of you, and went back peppering kisses down your body, but he was getting more frustrated down there. Erratically grinding himself against your thigh in a shaky motion. He looked up at you with round, pleading eyes. Going under the hood of your neck. The smell of your sweat was so intoxicating.

“Toby…”

“L-Let me taste more.” He roughly pulled down your shorts, spreading your legs.

[kittentoby]

BLOODY NOSE ︵⠀S. Barringer

Purple-ish Brusing , Dry Blood , Cracked lips , Comfort 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Synopsis: Before Camp! Scott Barringer gets into a fight on your behalf—you deal with the aftermath of it.

Word Count: 682

Note: I was so excited to post this and write it !!! REALLY hope anyone enjoyed this quick read! ITS KINDA OOC be warned! First fanfic on here and im definitely gonna write more bc it’s actually fun ! + THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LIKES N REBLOGS AAA ꪆৎ

The sight of him almost made you sob.

His steps on the hardwood floor of your family’s house were sluggish, and the once silent room was filled with his panting. He didn’t meet your glistening, doleful eyes as he made a beeline to your bathroom.

It crushed you to look at him in this state. All bloodied and beaten. It was hard to fight back all those burning tears that threatened to fall.

The swollen bruises on his face were a disgusting blend of pink and red, dry blood pooled in the stinging deep cut of his lips, and his nose was gushing a thick bloody river down his chin that he tried so hard to catch with his palms.

He had gotten into a fight about you. Being stupid and high. He’d throw a punch so fast if anyone fixed their lips to insult you. It worried you.

“Now what if the fight went south? What if they pulled out a knife—”

His expression hardened at your questioning. “It’s already over,” he slurred his words as he rudely interrupted. Dark blood stretched across the off-white marble sink; it looked like a horror scene. He reached for the roll of tissue paper, plugging a wad of it into his nostrils.

“Still,” you rebutted. “And you’re not supposed to shove toilet paper up your nose—you blow on it softly.” You handed him another clean tissue paper for his bleeding nose, and he reluctantly blew into it.

“Wait for me in my room; I wanna talk.” You wiped up the remnants of the blood that he had sloppily attempted to clean and rounded up supplies for his injuries before joining him in your room.

You sat next to him on the mattress, it dipping under your weight. You tilted your head down, studying his absent eyes. “Scott…” You didn’t have to say much for him to start talking.

“Some guy said something rude about you when you walked past, and I heard it.” His voice was weak, under his breath. His head hung low.

“That doesn’t mean you punch him… You're injured now,” you continued. “They always talk about me. I ignore it.” It was true. Those in your class would always put you down. They make sly comments when you walk past because they have nothing else to do.

“And that doesn’t mean you should take it. You don’t deserve that,” he muttered that last part.

Your tone was still clear and sure. “You’re right, but it also doesn’t mean you do impulsive stuff and get hurt.”

He rolled his eyes before snapping back. “I don’t want to go back and ’forth about this. Stop being so worried; it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten hurt like this.”

He took away the tissue from his nose trying to prove a point. “See, the blood already stopped.”

He sighed. You always got so worried about him. So worked up—it frustrated him a little. But it showed that you cared. You care about him more than anyone in his life.

And fighting for you was a way he showed he cared for you back. He’d take those bruises. That pain. For you.

You glanced at him before putting a cool compress on his bruised hand. He let out a sharp hiss.

“I don’t mean to be so dramatic—I was worried… and you can’t blame me,” you said, referring to his beaten state, A pause before you continued. “But thank you.” You ran your hand through his bristly blonde hair.

When you touched his hair, he tiredly leaned into it more. “I get why though… I was being impulsive. Didn’t think at all.”

“Yeah…” You scanned his face again. “I’m just glad that it wasn’t worse than bruises,” you added.

“But, I don’t regret it though… Not one bit. He always says something about you, and so does his group. He had it coming.” He gruffly claimed.

That's something you couldn’t disagree on. But goodness. Sometimes you wish this boy would just stop and think.

[kittentoby]

masterlist

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ = one shots ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ = headcanons 𓏲 ๋࣭  = chapters

x readers stories ﹕

• ticci toby 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

It’s been weeks since he seen you, he misses you.

oc stories ﹕

• i scream for pasta w/ @90smoonstar 𓏲 ๋࣭ 

Scream AU, Stu as Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack as Billy.