requests are open , MDNI 18+ , interaction from @/kissucat
ao3 ♡ tiktok
about the writer . . .
i'm illi / cat!
i'm 25, infp, cat lover, and eternally emo :3 i use they/them pronouns!
my favorite characters are mean men with sideburns, or morally ambiguous assholes
i write when i can, but i mull over a lot of different ideas so it takes a minute to refine my thoughts ... BUT I PROMISE IM ONLINE ALL THE TIME feel free to send requests or just come to chat ! my timezone is EST, and i'm normally around from 9am-12am!
i love to draw, but writing is also a really fun hobby to get out my vivid imagination ! my interests fluctuate, but i like a broad spectrum of series! from anime to cartoons to live action, i love horror movies and games, music is my love, i'm even a huge comics nerd!
currently obsessed with ; creepypasta / slenderverse
tags . . .
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ drabbles
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ fic
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ meow - general tag for my yapping, anything could go here from announcements to personal talking!
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ ask - self explanatory! for asks and possibly requests
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ inquisitive meow - the place where all my 'short' headcanon-y thoughts go
♡.ᐟ.ᐟ text meow - my smaus go here!
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ kissuart - my art tag! reblogged from my art blog!
#♡.ᐟ.ᐟ ophelia tag - tag for my proxy oc, including art and chapters of her fic caldonia!
Especially the ones hidden away, the ones only he knows about. He'd sit with you, holding your hand while you got your nipples done. "It's only ah-a little pi-pinch, babe. I-I've had worse." He can't even hide his smile.
When they heal he's all over them, swirling the piercing balls around his tongue. Watching you squirm from the sensitivity. He convinces you to wear the cute jewelry he loves, with little hearts that frame your puffy nipples. You listen, you'd do anything for Toby.
idk if you've already written or gotten this req before but leon x emo!reader ??? 🫶
comment . . . would you be surprised to know that i HAVENT written for leon and an emo reader? i saw this notification while i was out earlier and knew what i had to do. resident evil fandom .... cat is home <3 i think you can apply any era of leon to these headcanons, my mind went from re 4-9 for multiple of these!
leon s. kennedy x emo!reader ♡ headcanons
cw . . . mostly fluff, a little smut at the end! ambiguity to leon's drunk driving problem?
▪ ironically enough, i never really partake in an '2008 emo' leon. i think his music taste is 90's rock & grunge, but you know he was around for the early stages of emo. rites of spring, sunny day real estate, even american football probably. i imagine leon's the kind of guy to cherish the lyrics and sound rather than the label 'emo'...
▪ your music taste matches with his pretty well, he even thinks your playlist is better than his sometimes. (he would never admit that thought...) you'll watch him tap his fingers against his steering wheel when you're playing music in the car. asking you for specific titles of songs, asking you to play something he remembers liking from the last time you were in his car.
▪ i picture him to be a big CD collector, and loves merging your collections together. lining everything up together, it's just nice to enjoy the music while you're together. he'll be overseas on a mission and see a rare item that isn't in your collection and drop any amount of money just to get it. it's just a thoughtful surprise, and it always catches you off guard.
» He comes home from a particularly long trip with a bag half-full with CDs he picked up along the way. It's not all the time he's given the chance to shop with his job. It's just your smile, he has this picture of you in his mind practically jumping with joy. Leon's right every time, you literally light up when you see the gift. "No. Way. Leon, how'd you find all of these?!" Of course, he acts like it's not a big deal. Sly grin while he watches you, "Just found 'em along the way...Wanna listen?" You don't even give him a chance to ask for a kiss as his 'reward', but he doesn't mind. Just watching you dance around, admire the gift. It's enough for him.
▪ ok, but i also think you're 100% cutting this mans hair. he's helping you dye your roots. you're both in your messy bathroom in nothing but your underwear and a dream. you watched a few tutorials on how to use a set of clippers, but your trusty set of hair scissors from the beauty supply is enough to give him that classic 'Leon' hair. guys at his job ask why he's still rocking the same haircut, and all he can say is 'my girlfriend cuts my hair, what do you want from me?'
▪ his fashion sense for sure gets better. with you as his partner he just listens well. you find some of the best shirts in the guys sections it seems, it gets him out of his compression shirts and into an affliction shirt from 2007. you're heading to a concert and make him wear a studded belt, he complains at first but would never give it back.
▪ god he loves how you dress though. he's into an 'edgier' style, so anytime you dress up he's all over you. short black skirts might be his favorite thing. stocking or tights are easily torn under his grip, which he apologizes for and promises he'll buy you replacements for the damages.
» "I'm sorry, baby. You know i can't help my grip, we can go shopping tomorrow just to make up for it." He's holding you close after basically ripping through your whole date night outfit. The scraps of your tight black cocktail dress laid at the foot of your bed next to the remnants of your favorite fishnets. You pout, "You always do this!" Leon has to keep himself from laughing, he knew you were right. "Do you expect me to behave when you look that good, pretty girl?"
▪ oh my god and imagine being at a concert with leon...he's so big, he protects your against the barricade. His arms box you in, you know he's not crushing you too bad. the man is a wall, people hit him and he's barely moving. crowd surfers are not a problem, leon's also not letting any creeps near you. he'll make sure you're safe, comfortable, and having a good time.
» It's the end of a show, bands are throwing pic and drumsticks, handing out setlists. Leon isn't interested in any of it, instead leaning into your ear and whispering. "You wanna get out of here?" He smells like a mix of his cologne and alcohol. The few beers he had didn't seem to phase him in the slightest. Pressing against your back, you feel just how badly he wants to leave. One thing leads to another and you're fumbling around in the backseat. He's tugging at the merch he bought you, your shorts are hanging from your ankle while you straddle his lap. Grinding against the seat of his jeans, your black lace panties pulled to the side. He's pulling himself out of the denim as fast as his hands allow. Leon's biting at your neck, kissing the bruises, helping you lower down onto him. You take all of him so good, he really doesn't have to help you too much. You just hold onto his shoulders and keep steady. He helps your rhythm with his hands firmly on your waist and ass respectively. "Fuck...Fuck, baby...." Whispering into your chest pressed against his face. Kissing at the crumpled fabric of your shirt. "Be...Better show than anything we just saw- Jus' keep ridin'.." You're just thankful his backseats big enough to hold you both comfortably with Leon's libido. It isn't until nearly two hours after the show's over that you're riding in his passenger seat. You both look like you'd been in a vicious mosh pit, Leon's hand relaxes on your thigh while he offers you the aux.
post comment . . . i know it's been forever since i've written something for leon but how can i forget my sweet piece of ass <3 this is a spoiler for my kinktober list, but he'll be making another appearance during october hopefully! this was good to bring me back to my roots for a moment! ruin you're goated for giving me this <33
Waiiittt your latest Brian dabble is so good 😭 We NEED to see Tim's reaction to those videos 👀 I also love ur work it's so awesome and poetic 😌💖
comment . . . YOUR MIND........I WROTE THIS WITH MY BACK ARCHED this is going to be a two parter i think.....second part coming......soon hopefully......i started writing this one the Second i got the rq, something deep inside of me woke up and i realized i needed to get passed around like a blunt. thank youu anon i owe you my LIFE
brian thomas / hoodie x fem!reader x tim wright / masky (18+) ♡ 1.3k wc
content . . . smut, brian is a semi-sadist, flustered / jealous tim, teasing, swearing, descriptions of sex, voyeurism, blowjobs, brian conceptualizing a threesome in his mind, continuation of this post
“How about that, huh?” Brian leans in, his laptop sliding with him.
Their closeness sometimes pushed an intense boundary. Comfortable was definitely one way to describe their friendship. Brian just liked to show off around Tim. They shared just about everything.
“Hm?” Tim hums, looking up from the deconstructed gun in his lap. Cleaning the individual pieces during some downtime at the cabin. Without any missions they needed to find a way to fill their time.
Brian had seemingly found his source of entertainment.
Tim looked at the screen as if it were just a normal clip. Brian always filmed the weirdest shit just to show off to him when they had nothing to do. He just wasn’t expecting the clip to be of your face. Up close, eyes half-lidded and head bobbing in the frame. Your lips glisten with slick mixing with your saliva, highlighting the shaft you worked so hard to take in completely.
The base is framed in light brown, neatly trimmed curls. You choked right as your lips kissed the bottom of the girth. From behind the lens he heard the familiar low drawl. “So good…Takin’ it all, huh?” Your eyes clench shut as you lift off, releasing his tip with a soft ‘pop’. Your smile nearly drunk off his cock. A trail of spit connecting you both before breaking apart. The clip cuts there, and Brian’s waiting for his reaction.
Tim realized he’d been silent the whole time.
It wasn’t as if seeing Brian’s dick was a new concept, too many years together to not see another guy naked. It was more that he’d been so protective of you for so long. Tim didn’t think he’d want to share something as precious as you. Especially not when Brian had you wrapped around his finger.
“Damn.” Was all he could muster. His throat felt weirdly dry.
The response was good enough for Brian. “Took this one the other day.” His grin spread wider when he clicked on the next clip. In the brief moment he spent on the folder, Tim noticed the large amount of similarly lewd thumbnails. The laptop screen shows a different angle of you. The sound of skin meeting skin hard played from the speakers, deep grunts from behind the lens reminded him that he knew the subject and the director of the dirty film.
Your back is arched with the help of Brian’s large hand pressed at the top of your ass. Helping him keep the rhythm while he pounds into your ass, you’re crying out with each time you meet his hips.
“Who’s your man? Say…Say it.” He commands. Quietly urging you to speak up, Tim finds a similarity in his voice when he’s focused on an important task.
“Y-You…Brian…” You manage to sigh out. Your face is smashed into the bed beneath you, sheets gripped between your fist. Even with the dim lighting, he sees the blush spread across your body, how even your shoulders are tinted with red. Then, the camera shifts down. He’s straightening up, watching just how Brian fucks you dumb.
It seems like you have no problem taking all of him. His thrusts are sloppier than the first angle allowed him to see. Now he sees the way he pulls out halfway before fucking deeper into you that before. His dick burrows deep before teasing to pull out fully, only to shove himself back in place quickly enough to keep you full of him. You’d respond with more mumbles, his name spilling out of you like a familiar prayer.
A small voice in the back of his mind telling him he’d be sweeter than Brian, treat you nicer when you’re laid in front of him.
“You’re a lucky man.” Tim hopes the scatter pistol on his lap would be enough to take his mind off the idea of you sprawled out beneath him.
Brian doesn’t take much note of Tim's newfound love of cleaning and reassembling his distraction. Leaning back into his original lounge on the couch cushions. Slumped as he kept scrolling the seemingly endless folder. “She’s real sweet, man..I could film her forever ‘nd never get bored.” He’s clicking on the trackpad a few more times before once again pulling up another video.
Tim couldn’t say he wasn’t interested. His jeans grew tighter by the second. The cotton cloth spread under the metal pieces was really the only saving grace he had from relentless teasing. Sure, in the past Brian would show off any clips he had of a random fling or some set of perverts he caught in their car late at night, but Tim knew you. He even stopped by your place the day before to pick up Brian’s forgotten wallet, you both joked about how forgetful he was. Now he was staring from your nightstand, watching Brian hold your throat from behind as you cried into the camera about how bad you wanted it. How good his dick felt, you’d beg him to slow down, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. When his hand shifted to holding a handful of your hair and your eyes nearly rolled back, Tim’s distraction barely worked.
He couldn’t stop watching.
It felt so wrong, but Brian was more than willing to show you off. The video ends after the longest 4 minutes of his life. Brian leans in with a gaptooth grin, never pulling out, and nearly crushing you against the mattress. He seemed to be responding to one of your incoherent babbles that Tim couldn’t make out. “‘Course I’ll turn it off, pumpkin–” With that the audio cuts and the screen goes dark.
Tim’s trying to come up with an appropriate response, but Brian’s already scrolling again.
“Been collecting them for a while. She’s just perfect on camera.” Finally he looks over at Tim. “Don’t you think?” The same smile Tim just saw on the screen. Mischievous, the same expression he frequently wore.
Tim watches the small thumbnails pass by, that painful dryness in his throat returning.
“What d’you want me to say, Brian?” Tim shoots back, looking straight at him. “That I think your girlfriend’s a fine piece of ass?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes and trying not to seem like he had a raging hard-on. Lying as if he had the moral high ground for not being attracted to his best friend’s girl.
Brian chuckles, shaking his head, closing the laptop and setting it onto the handmade coffee table in front of them. “No shame in it, Tim. She’s cute.” He makes no move to get up, instead sitting back up and watching Tim’s hands as he works the metal back together at a comfortable (yet shakey) pace. “You’re just a good friend to her, I was thinking that maybe it’d be nice to show her just how good she is.”
The half-constructed gun falls back to his lap as Tim looks over in near shock. “Right.” He’s just shocked that he would even offer you like that. “‘Cause she’s so open to getting passed off to the next guy.”
Brian’s reply is smooth, calm, that same grin never leaving. “She thinks you’re handsome too, told me so a few nights ago.”
Tim finds it hard to believe, shaking his head with a sigh. “Stop messing with me, man.” Putting the final pieces together on his pistol, he uses his thumb to try and buff out any non-existent marks on the handle. “You think I’d trick you?” Brian laughs, finally giving Tim some room to breathe. “You know you’re the only one I’d trust to share my girl with.”
Tim stands up, tired of the conversation. Tired of being teased.
He needed a smoke.
“Sure, dude. Why don’t you call me when she’s ready. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” Sarcasm is his only gate out of the conversation. He feels himself growing irrationally angry at his nonchalant attitude towards your body. Tim’s hands slot in their respective pockets after grabbing his cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table.
Brian doesn’t even see anything wrong with his offer, settling back into his slump against the old couch cushions and pulling his laptop back up.
“I’ll keep you updated.” He says simply. Tim chooses to ignore your moans that start to sound out again from the shitty computer speakers as the front door shuts loudly behind him.
post comment . . . i actually needed to add this underneath it all bc im so passionate about this. i do NOT think brians the type of guy to disrespect his partner horribly. he trusts and loves tim, so of course he trusts him with you. he would keep that part of his life totally secret if he DIDN'T trust tim. i DO think that brian is unusually open to a good time and pleasing his partner. his bdsm test is probably insane. the kind of guy who's fucking you and asking you what you think of tim, if you think he'd fill you up just as good, and hes asking you genuinely expecting a real answer and not some dick drunk response. bossy brian is so sexy to me like yeah ok im on all fours meowing now give me that thang
I WOKE UP TO SO MUCH LOVE ON MY LAST FEW POSTS ?!?! thank you all so much, i seriously love all the requests i got and im actually working on a couple right now!!!
question for the crowd; would you prefer if i responded to your request to know that i'm working on it or would you like the post to be included on the ask when i finish it (as i've been doing)? i feel bad taking so long on some requests, but i'd hate for a requester to lose their post in the wave of my other posts!
once again i love you all, and thank you again for the support on my recent stuff ;-; my heart is so full
comment . . . not at all my usual posts, but i've been reading a lot of these lately and well......i wanted to try. i kind of thought it'd be easiest for me to start with tim, but if you have any ideas im open to taking requests for this format!
He has a whole folder in his computer files dedicated to your pretty face. Framed in 4k, every angle of your gorgeous form. He'd never show them to anyone (except probably Tim..) They're heavily rewatched, it doesn't matter when. Sometimes, if he's bored, Brian will sit with the laptop balanced on his thighs. Watching your display in front of him like you were really there. He's even talking to you just the same, thankful that he was a quiet cameraman each time you mewled back at him. Begging for a bit more than what he was willing to give you.
He's palming himself to his favorites when he's alone, you're busy and not responding. It's torture to him, but he knows just how to deal with the loneliness. He just needs to open his computer and finding you waiting.
Toby with an emo girlfriend is my favorite thing to imagine.
He loves the same music, loves watching horror movies with you cuddled up. You'll paint his nails and he won't even pick at the polish for a week after. You'll even apply some smudged eyeliner for him and take pictures together. He loves to help pick out your outfits, matches candy bracelets with you, even helps you with any DIY projects to the clothes you thrift. You smell like hairspray and sweet, cheap perfume. He's obsessed with you. His pretty girlfriend, teased hair and all.
At night, when you're sleeping next to him with your playlist on quietly in the background. He's laying next to you jerking off to your pretty face. Trying to muffle any moans that escape by pressing his fist against his mouth. You're just too pretty to know just how badly he wants to ruin you. All that makeup running down your face, your perfect hair all messy while he fucks you stupid. For now, Toby manages with his fist as he watches you sleep. His imagination working overtime.
Hi! I was wondering if you could write for Jealous! Tim x reader? The reason being is that since reader isn’t a proxy she stays at the cabin most of the time and because of that Tim asks Brian if he could check in on reader. Sometimes Tim comes home to see Brian and reader being very friendly like her offering him snacks and inviting him for dinner or something. The rest is up to you ofc! just thought of this!!
comment . . . i had to take my time on this every time i'd write a paragraph id start thinking about tim pouting and get so hard i'd black out so im sorry it took so long to finish this :( IM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT TIM'S DEVOTION, he'd drop to his Knees in prayer just for your attention ......... heheh
tim wright / masky x fem!reader (18+) ♡ 2.4k wc
content . . . SMUT, possesive tim, brian is just a good friend, unsanitary activities on a kitchen counter, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, implied marathon sex, tim's nicotine addiction makes an appearance.
Tim would never admit it, but he was way too possessive.
Everyone who knew him, who knew you, could see it clearly.
Your blind devotion to him was silly to most, but you were happy at the cabin with your Tim. His sweet girl sat at home waiting for him everyday, so his mind was often with you. That’s why these late nights killed him. Missions that took him hours away from home, just to drop tapes? Find some guy in the woods? He was normally exhausted with his work, but now he had you sitting pretty. His reward after a long day.
He knew you were lonely though.
The way you’d sigh, lamenting that you wished you could go out with him. You’d call them his ‘trips’ like he wasn’t coming home with blood on his jacket. Sitting and watching the window waiting for him all alone. Sure others came and stayed at the cabin, but proxies weren’t the best company. Most of the time you sat by yourself, people learned fast that Tim didn’t like too many people bothering the two of you. The mansion was basically off limits, even if you loved all visitors.
He honestly felt a little guilty, like a pet he needed to get a friend for. Asking Brian to check in on you honestly felt like the only realistic option. He was good enough, normal enough, and understood Tim enough that he wouldn’t treat you badly. In his mind, he didn’t see what could go wrong. Especially when the assignments started stretching longer, coming back later to find you curled up on the uncomfortable couch in one of his flannels. Even if he loved the sight, loved picking you up and carrying you to bed as you wrapped limp arms around his neck. He couldn’t keep you away forever, he knew this.
Tim wouldn’t admit that he was a jealous man either. He was much too stubborn.
Coming back earlier than normal, he was just happy that he didn’t make you wait up too late. At 11 pm his truck wheels rolled down the hidden driveway into the woods from a less travelled backroad. Traversing the bumps at fast speeds just to make it back to you. At 11:15, he found the warm light from the cabin. No sign of you in the window, but there was a part of him that hoped he’d find you just waiting at the door. He grabbed his jacket, smirking at the thought of seeing you waiting for him in the bed. Locking the truck, Tim assured himself that dessert before dinner would be fine. Tim opened the unlocked door, just wanting to see you.
“Hey–” He announced to the home, the smell of your cooking hit him before he could even see you.
“Tim!” You called from behind the kitchen island, holding a pot you’d forgotten about on the stove. He smiles, tossing his jacket onto the couch as he makes his way to you. Holding your arms open for a tight hug. Just what he needed, and your specialty.
Just outside of his line of sight, leaned Brian against the kitchen counter. Drinking one of Tim’s beers from the back of the fridge, the expensive kind he saved for long days. Smirking his gap tooth grin with the bottleneck between his fingers, “You’re back early.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed, “Did I interrupt something?” He had to remind himself that not everyone was out to get him, that a small comment like that wasn’t a personal attack.
“You didn’t interrupt anything!!” You brought him back from the forming blind rage in his mind, shooting a joking glare to Brian. “We were talking about how I made way too much, that’s all.” Hanging onto him, your sweet smile reminding him of just how happy he was to come back home early.
“Guess I’ll just have to share tonight–” Brian half-muttered into his drink before looking back at Tim. “You’re a lucky guy, Tim.”
Maybe it was the bad mood that’d been forming after being apart for so long. Maybe it was the rough ride home. Maybe it was Tim just reading into things too closely. You laughed at Brian’s quip and suddenly Tim felt like all the walls were closing in, a box forming around his brain.
“Yeah.” His mouth tight, eyebrows tense. Jesus, he really tried not to look like a paranoid freak in front of you. “Yeah.” Tim assured himself again, repeating it like a prayer that he wouldn’t lose his mind standing on the kitchen tile. You still hugged onto his arm, unaware of his sudden shift, unaware that he was ready to murder his ‘best friend’.
Brian seemed to notice the subtle shift, “Yeah..” He responds back with a soft chuckle while setting the half-full bottle onto the counter. Hand in his pocket, “I should- uh. Probably get out of here though. More for you, right?” Tim stared straight through him, watching for any sign that he’d try to take what was his.
As Brian got his boots, Tim thought about his charismatic friend. His flirtatious gaze, the way his eyes check out basically anyone in his path, that gap-tooth smile. Brian wished you good night, nodding at Tim before the door shut behind him. Sealing the quiet inside, you’d detached from his side, now happily preparing a plate.
“It’s too bad that Brian couldn’t stay–” You start, dishing out a serving of something he didn’t care about. He watched your back, your hair moving softly in the warm kitchen light, anyone could see how beautiful you were. Brian especially, his tastes were always so similar to Tim’s. He couldn’t stomach the thought of you succumbing to his charm. “I made so much, but I don’t think you’ve ever turned down my–” You turn your head, looking his way and instantly noticing the grimace that formed from all of those dark thoughts. “Tim, what’s wrong?” Your voice is all soft and sweet, setting down the ceramic plate and fully turning to meet him.
Head cocked all cute, Tim can’t look you in the eyes. “Tim..” You step closer and he’s sighing.
“You- oh!” Of course, you try to reach out before he grabs your wrist. Pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss.
His lips crash into yours, greedily. Wanting more with every rough press against you. Your body grinding into him, arms snaking around his neck. Tim knows he’s acting immature, but you’re the only thing that matters to him. His tongue slipping alongside yours, taking all of you in without regard. You moan into him, letting him consume your attention. Of course you were waiting on him, of course you would never give Brian the time of day. You were his. ‘Tim’s property’ above your head like a lit sign.
“T-Tim..” You manage to get out between the heat of his kiss. Breaking for air only for a second before he pulled you back in again. You’re so tight in his arms, standing on your toes as he supports you against his solid frame.
His hands trail down your back, palms flush against your oversized sleep shirt. Fingers toying at the hem that just covered your tiny cotton shorts. If he were Brian, Tim knew he’d struggle keeping his eyes off the plush of your thighs. Thighs that were now lifted and wrapped at his waist, allowing more space for his kiss to push deeper. When he finally breaks from your kiss, you feel lightheaded. Swirling in the random burst of his love.Your arms lay limp around his broad shoulders, and that jealous flame nearly dims. In its smoldering ashes is a new goal, showing you who could love you more.
Brian couldn’t win when it came to his own animalistic urges.
You plant soft and weak kisses against the heat of his throat. Muttering into his neck about how badly you missed him. How it’s not the same when you’re alone. Out of habit, a groan escapes him. Your breath flutters across his skin, goosebumps rising as he holds himself back from tearing you apart. Tim knows you wouldn’t betray him, you wouldn’t hurt him like the rest. He was so greedy with your attention. Your love and affection was as addictive as the cigarettes in his back pocket.
He’s settling you onto the counter, right where Brian leaned against earlier.
You don’t notice, now sucking small bruises onto his neck. Tim’s just trying not to lose himself so early in the night. His hips press against the edge of the counter, his buckle clinking against the polished stone. You’re pushing your hips against him, not wanting to let him go long enough for him to undo the belt that held him back. “Now, hold on…” He groans softly, warning you and reminding himself to calm down.
His hands leave you long enough to undo his buckle. The ends hang limp on his hips as his jeans button open. You just whine the longer it takes him to pull himself from the denim and cotton that felt near suffocating.
You decide in a fit of impatience to help him out. Fingers trailing from their spot on his arms to the opening in his jeans. Tim’s basically throbbing against your touch, sharply sucking in air between his teeth. “Gh..God..” He chokes out, his hands bracing himself against the countertop on either side of your hips.
You’re so delicate with your touch. One hand holding his shaft, the other tracing one finger around his tip.
A shaky breath through clench teeth from your teasing. He almost feels like letting you get away with it. Your torturously slow touch almost causes him to spill into your palm. His voice is low when he finally speaks, “Just…ugh… jus’ let me…” Tim tries to reason with your smile. His eyes fall to your thighs rubbing together for any bit of friction to your own desire.
His knees drop, weak in front of your gaze. He slips your shorts off, panties tossed alongside them. You’re only in the large sleepshirt and nothing else, feeling totally exposed in front of him.
He half expected you to get shy, wondering if you’d feel shy in front of Brian. Your half-lidded eyes stare through him, legs parting without him needing to tease you to open for him. You let him in, and that’s all he needs.
Thick arms pull you closer to the edge, wrapping behind your thighs and holding you tight.
First licking a long stripe up your slit, kissing your clit softly. His deep eyes looking up at the red spreading across your cheeks. You don’t squirm until he presses the thick, flat surface of his tongue against your bud. Dragging it up, then circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. Hips buck against him, but he doesn’t relent against you. His tongue moves faster, encompassing your peak. You whine, eyes clenched while you try leaning closer.
Tim loves watching you, it only motivates him to work harder at making you happy. His cock pulses expectantly each time he pulls off, watching you sensitively twitch.
He can’t really keep himself from you, but he also isn’t the kind of guy to torture himself.
One of his arms leaves you, his hand wrapping around his dick to help the ache of not being inside you. His mouth returns to you, stroking along his shaft as if you were some porno displayed in front of him. Your head falls back at his attention, your cunt dripped with a mix of his saliva and your slick. Tim groans, the vibration ripping through you. Nearly dying right there, he unwraps your other thigh and teases at your entrance with two digits. Prodding, nearly entering, then returning to the teasing pokes. Your gummy walls nearly suck in his fingers before he pushes his index and middle into your needy cunt.
Tim strokes along his length, thick brows knit tightly at the pleasure. His head lulls to your thigh, twitching from the stretch of his fingers. His breath heavy as he jerked off to the sight of you. His fingers work in fast, deep thrusts. Each one sloppier than the last with how he fucked into his fist. You’re just as greedy as him, practically bouncing on his palm.
His fingers hook, you cry out. Tim leans in to plant an unsteady kiss to your pussy, and you nearly collapse against the kitchen counter. You cum harder against him, slick drooling as he pulls his fingers. Placing them flat on his tongue and licking them clean all while holding your eyes. His occupied hand continues to stroke himself, finishing with a low groan against the plush of your thigh. Sweat sticking him against you as he drips onto the linoleum beneath him.
Panting thick, hot breath onto your skin. Tim takes a moment before rising, unsteadily, but still pulling himself up.
“Ti-Tim…” You’re still reeling from your climax too, flustered and wanting more. Your arms wrap back around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. His lips are still glistening with you, his half hard dick twitches back to life. He lifts you up easily, your legs hooking around his waist. The bedroom feels too far, but somehow you make it in one piece. Only after a trip to the couch, the hallway table, and eventually the cotton sheets of your shared bed.
Only after hours of fucking you stupid, do you get a moment of rest.
Tim propped upon his side of the bed, you lay against his bare chest. It’s quiet aside from the sounds of the summer frogs chirping from the open window. Tim’s post-coital cigarette making an appearance was a good sign that he needed a breather too. Nothing needed to be said, but Tim’s mind went right back to the thought of Brian. He considered telling him to fuck off, maybe he could just cut corners and try to come home before midnight? He didn’t really like sloppy work, but if it was for you… Tim shook his head, laughing at the thought as he exhaled smoke.
You lift up, looking at him. “What’s up?”
He just shakes his head again, free hand rising to pet down your hair with a smile. “Nothing, darlin’. Just thinking of something funny.” He taps his cigarette against the rim of the ashtray propped up on his thigh.
You lay your head back down with a soft sigh, and Tim perks up. “Hm?” He hums, taking another drag from the filter.
“Dinner’s definitely cold by now, huh?” You seem so serious, thinking of the food left behind. Tim can’t help but laugh at the sentiment. A deep, genuine chuckle when you raise up again. “Hey!” You warn with a smile, but he can’t help it.
Jealousy felt pointless when he really thought about it. You’re too sweet to him, just his girl and no one else's.
Every nook and cranny that even you didn’t know existed. He knows your likes, dislikes, favorite foods, and (his personal favorite) your favorite positions.
You’ve been with Toby for so long, it’s only natural. It’s not like you’re totally clueless about him or his deep obsession with you. You’re just the center of his world. How could he not know everything you loved?
When you’re with him, everything just seems right. Toby loves to spoil you, seeing your smile is all he wants. He knows you so well. Spending all his time watching you, all his time memorizing every single detail. His focus is all on you, which is hard considering his mind is always wandering. Toby’s coworkers knew that if he was quiet for too long, then he’d start rambling about your little quirks and interests. His brain always wanders right back to you, that drifting focus zeroing in on his lover.
He’s especially focused when you’re bent up under him, ankles resting on his shoulders while he pounds into you. His cock stretching out your gummy walls and coating them with his hips stuttering against you. “F-Fuck, you’re tah-taking me so good, ff-fuck…” You’re surrounded by all your pillows, the plush of your comforter like a cloud framing your body. Each stuffed animal watching him make you the happiest girl in the world.
His hands hold your legs firm, fingers flexing impatiently around your ankles as he gets closer to his own climax. Toby reminds himself to slow down. Can’t ruin the fun if he paces himself. Deep breaths, he assures himself that he can do this. That’s what he wants to believe. His excitement builds by the milli-second. Jesus, and just looking down at you is nearly enough to break him.
The way your cheeks flush red, breath heavy.
Your hair gathered around you, you were his own personal angel tangled in the sheets. “Baby, oh- oh god…’M so lucky…” Toby snaps into you nearly collapsing forward. Each harsh thrust received even softer moans, his dick twitching in you with each reaction.
“T-Tobyy..” You whine through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Gh..Fuckfuckfuck…” He breathes through it. His tendency to overwork himself is easy when you’re under him. “Toogood…Fuckk…Yuh-You’re too good….” Your cunt is sucking him back in each time he goes to pull out. Damp skin stuck to his, tears prickling the edges of your eyes as you tightened. His hips adjust with each desperately slow fuck deeper. Leaning fully on your legs, your knees touching your chest as he ruts into you.
You won’t look away, tired eyes holding his own. He’s nearly hypnotized by the feeling of you wrapped around him. Toby’s knees hold him steady as your hips lift with him. Moving closer to your face, he grins.
“W-Wanna cuh-cum?…Say it…Say it f’me…”
You don’t hesitate, one hand pulling from the sheet below you to reach Toby’s hand pressed on the back of your knee.
“P-Please- Toby…feels so good… wanna cum…” Breathless and flushed, you’re in the same boat as him. He lets out an involuntary low chuckle, straightening his posture and giving you just what you want.
Locking back in, a second wind hit him as you begged.
Relentlessly pounding against you. Your pussy weeping against him, twitching violently around him. He holds your hips now, legs relaxing on his waist and locking behind him. A bit of stability against erratic rhythm, Toby felt the familiar tightness in his lower stomach. He practically uses you, not that you care. You’re too blissed out from his cock to notice anything. “S’good…Toby..!” You come undone as he watches.
“I know–” He manages to get out before filling you.
Toby knows just about everything there is to know about you.
An expert in his field, he even knows your favorite feeling. Pulling out, half-hard and watching his cum leak out from your hole. A grin on his face grows as he watches you trail a finger down and press it against your entrance.
Toby’s ready for a second round before you can even pull your finger out.
comment . . . its my birthdayyyyy!!!! so i figured i'd give you guys a little present from me <3 a little drabble to hold you all over till i have the time to properly finish requests! its very self-indulgent, i fear ive had my toby playlist on repeat the whole time i wrote this hehe
i have artfight to catch up on and ive also gotta party for my bdayyyy but im going to feed you all again very soon <3
needle into a bug ♡ 4k wc (caldonia. chapter three)
ophelia whitt (original female character) x ticci toby / tim wright / brian thomas
content . . . anxiety & paranoia, medical problems (i.e. headaches and derealization), stalking, car problems, being a bad employee, bad moral judgement, bossy tim
summary . . .
ophelia has been having a shitty week. her headaches were getting worse, which was hindering her performance at work. when she already feels horrible, tim shows up to lecture her under the guise of a 'warning'. to top it all off, her car breaks down in a dark parking lot forcing her to walk home.
previous part | next part (tba) | ao3
It’d been a few days since her last encounter with Toby.
Ophelia wasn’t sleeping right, if at all. Most late nights were spent watching TV while waiting for a wave of exhaustion to hit her. Between her headache and the general feeling of being watched, she had a lot on her plate. Both of her jobs didn’t seem too happy about the call outs. She had no other choice but to push through, even if it was killing her.
She knew that one more lecture from a shitty manager would send her over the edge.
With no one else to cover her shift working sound at the local venue, she pushed through. She just hoped that over time the headaches would lessen. All she wanted was to go back to her ‘normal’.
Locking her front door behind her, she checks the time on her phone one last time. 5 pm. Thankfully the show didn’t start until 8, so she had enough time to set up. Ophelia turned on her heel as she fumbled with her bag and keys. Looking over the wooden bannister of the front deck, her heart dropped. Someone on her car hood? All she needed was a closer look to recognize the man.
Tim leaned against the hood of her busted up silver car. She almost didn’t recognize him with a clean shaven face. He focused on lighting the cigarette resting between his pursed lips. She wondered if he even knew it was her car before his eyes flick up to meet hers. She sighs, fist clutching her purse’s leather strap tighter. Each step down the wooden steps felt heavier than the last. She just wanted a regular day.
He’s pulling off his cigarette as she’s walking up with his eyes scanning her. Her keys held tight in her other hand, sharp ends pointing out…just as a safety precaution. “Do you need something?” Ophelia’s already annoyed when he smirks at her tone. “No ‘hello’?” She rolls her eyes, and he takes another drag off the filter.
“Toby said you were ‘so nice’...hm..” Tim shrugs with his smartass grin.
“I’d love to stand around and ask you how you know where I live, but I actually have to get to work.” She stood in front of him, keys now out of attack mode. Tim had obviously made himself comfortable. There was even another filter lying on the ground next to his boots, like he’d been waiting for her. She tried not to be so paranoid, it was probably lying there for a while. Smoke wisps in the breeze while Ophelia snaps herself out of the full body look over.
“I just wanted to talk for a minute. It’s about Toby.” Not answering her actual question, he sighs and stands up. Ophelia took another step back. His thumb hung from his pocket, his gaze at the treeline surrounding the parking lot.
“You…just might not want to spend your time hanging out with him.”
Ophelia stared at him with nothing but confusion. Why would he have any say in what she did? Familiar annoyance slowly seeped its way in. Sure, she didn’t meet Toby in the best situation, but who was he to tell her who to hang out with? Her eyebrows knit with frustration trying to understand. “You…You can’t tell me what to do…” She mutters, massaging her temple.
“It’s just a warning?” He’s confused too, no longer watching the paper burn between his middle and index fingers.
“I don’t even know you! A-And…I barely know Toby!” Ophelia’s face feels hot. She has to remind herself not to start screaming at him. Anger boiling in her chest, her hands vibrating softly with nerves.
Tim takes one more drag before flicking the end somewhere she wasn’t focused on.
“C’mon..” His exhale is slow. “You know Toby.”
Ophelia refused to look at him.
It was quiet from her own stubbornness. What she tried so hard to push down and put behind her. Tim was right, of course she knew Toby.
She wasn’t trying to act clueless. If she was being honest, it was all she thought about. She spent all her time trying not to think about the very obvious truth. Toby set the building on fire, and by extension ended someone's life. The smell of gasoline lingers, and denial runs deep. Much like everything else in Ophelia’s life, she spent all her effort just trying to forget.
This all came down to her real problem.
She found herself not really mourning the gas station attendant. No empathy in her. She even tried to cry for him, but all she could think about were his sunken eyes watching her. The building was rotting, the employee was a creep, even the pump barely worked. Ophelia didn’t want to think that whatever happened was deserved, but it kept coming around. In the end, she wasn’t afraid of Toby, and it scared her. Being called out wasn’t on her list of things to do today.
A deep breath.
“Okay. Yeah, I know him–” She crosses her arms, folding into herself.
“Then you know he’s a little out there.” Without missing a beat, he’s back to lecturing. “You just shouldn’t be letting someone drag you off, especially not to those woods.”
“Whatever.” Ophelia walks towards the driver's side, and Tim follows. As if walking away wasn’t enough of a conversation stopper. He continues. “Not whatever. He’s seriously not for everyone.”
“No- Whatever!” They’re close when she turns to face him, the smell of aftershave mixed with the lingering nicotine was near overwhelming her senses. “What do you even care? We met once, and you were a total douche!” Opening the door and throwing her purse to the passenger seat, she turns back again. “You should work on first impressions. Maybe then I’d take your unwanted advice.”
He finally takes a step back, pulling out a crushed pack of menthols and a lighter. “Yeah, well–” Tim scoffs, “Don’t blame me when things don’t work out, princess.” Her car door slams, her middle finger pressed against the window while he watches her pull out. One hand in his pocket, the other holding the newly lit cigarette. He never stopped watching her.
‘If he wasn’t so annoying, he’d actually be hot.’ Ran through her mind before waving it from her mind, focusing on the drive rather than thinking more about Tim. The radio didn’t make her head feel any better, so the 10 minute drive to work was spent in silence. Mostly just trying to keep her mind off Tim. Attempting to mentally prepare herself for a shift that she was forcing herself to go to. The quiet wasn’t helping, but it never did. She’d always struggled with not having anything to block out the weird thoughts that would riae to the surface. The headaches were new, but the paranoia wasn’t. Feeling watched and thinking of darker subjects were familiar obstacles to avoid.
All of her ex-foster families would hand her back to the orphanage with the same complaints every time.
“Her nightmares are unmanageable.”
“She isn’t connecting with the family, she’s antisocial.”
“Ophelia has an over-active imagination, and it’s scaring us.”
If you asked her where it all started, she wouldn’t be able to answer. Ophelia couldn’t even remember her parents, instead some of her earliest memories are of police sirens and officers questioning her. Law enforcement mentioned that she’d be ‘okay’, that she just needed time. Even the therapists she spoke with tried to convince her that it’d all be ‘fine’. She never really knew what would be ‘fine’ or why she needed to be ‘okay’. It was hard to understand at 6, but it was harder to understand at 24.
Ophelia didn’t know why she was weird. She just accepted the part of herself that was scared, and tried to silence those morbid thoughts that would surface.
Pulling behind the concert venue, she sat in her car for a minute to compose herself. In her purse she dug out the half-full bottle of pain relievers. Even if they weren’t working, it was worth the effort to try and silence the low static hum in the back of her mind.
Nothing felt normal anymore, so it was just easy to push it all off. ‘Try again next week’ seemed to be her new motto. Ophelia ignored the feeling of being watched, the sound of static, and that creeping numb that snuck up on her all the time. A paycheck was worth more than worrying about whatever she had going on. Just hoping that the sharp buzz wouldn’t bother her once she was in the sound boot, it was all too good to be true.
It only took an hour to send her home.
Her pounding skull resting against the soundboard, it was difficult to even keep her eyes open while the soundcheck tortured her. Her manager Todd seemed to notice, standing outside the booth door watching her slack through the glass. The band had been trying to get her attention, but every call to her had gone muffled and Ophelia never noticed.
“Just go.” Todd’s stern voice broke the daze she’d found herself in.
“What?” She asked like it was coming out of nowhere.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I have Eric coming in to cover you.”
She couldn’t fight, even with the pit in her stomach. Ophelia knew what the conversation was going to entail. Almost wishing he’d just fire her then and there, but she made up her mind to just ignore the call and ask for more hours at her retail job the next day. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise? With her condition over the last week, maybe two jobs were just out of reach.
All these thoughts circled her mind as she made her way to her car. The sun was just about to set, the parking lot filling with concert go-ers. Which only made it more embarrassing when her car decided to sputter and squeal in agony. A group walking past watched her through the windshield bang her already sore head against the wheel.
Great.
First, she’s losing her job. Then her car decides to die on her? (Maybe it was the other way around.)
It was fine on the way to work, why now? She tried to think of all the people she could’ve fucked over, there had to be a reason everything was going so wrong.
This was just another example of her perfect luck.
Ophelia fought the tears back, as she was all too aware of the eyes on her. The lack of light in her dark corner of the concrete lot meant it would be basically impossible to pop the hood and decipher the issue, so the long walk home was her only option. She’d just return in the morning to see if it was fixable. Of course she had to live in the small town without a taxi service. At least the sound of the summer crickets wouldn’t irritate her mystery migraine. After a deep breath, she grabbed her purse, locked her car, and started the trek home.
A cool breeze flushed the humidity, the sun had gone down and the sky was a deep blue mixing into black. The stars clear from the lack of light pollution from the practically quiet streets. Street lights grew further apart once the sidewalk ended, turning onto her poorly paved street. In between spotlights she watched the fireflies skim the tops of overgrown grass along the woods. Her head now quiet, void of anything except the thought of getting home.
“He-Hey.” Broke the silence behind her.
Ophelia briefly reminded herself to be aware of her surroundings when walking home in the night.
Turning cautiously, she met him in the dark once again. “Toby?” She recognized the stutter, of course. Not many people spoke to her, so it was easy to keep track of who it could be.
A masked Toby stood just outside of the visible street light, dimly flickering over her.
He was quiet, arms crossed. Tim’s warning played in her head again just before she stubbornly waved it off. “What are you doing out here, Toby?” Her fist clutched tighter onto her purse once a subtly metallic smell wafted her way. Was he bleeding? Ophelia wanted to get closer. Make sure he was okay, but that nagging feeling persisted. Not wanting to get closer for fear of what
“You t..talked to Tim.” He finally spoke again, something bitter laced the statement. “H-He told me.”
Ophelia didn’t think it was a big deal, “Yeah…he showed up at my apartment?” A car passed by, swerving the pair standing on the edge of the asphalt. They probably didn’t even see Toby, who blended into the night. “D-Don’t listen to him…” He sounded so different, rougher. The muffle of his mask made it difficult to figure out if he was crying or just angry. Before she could question him, Toby continued. “P-Please…Don’t stop t-talkin’ to m..me..” He stammered out, his arms unfolding and falling to his sides. Clenched fists next to the mysterious handles that she hadn’t seen since their first encounter. That metal scent didn’t go away, only getting seemingly stronger.
She thought it was a ridiculous thing to question. Aside from her natural interest in Toby, no one could tell her who she could and couldn’t pursue relationships with.
“Toby…Are you okay..?” Ophelia questions, not knowing if she even wanted an answer.
He didn’t seem to be listening anyways, skipping over her concern and muttering to himself. Silently cursing the natural sounds of the woods that she couldn’t make out his quiet ramblings. She just wanted to go home, safely within four walls and away from the weird night she was having.
She briefly considered just turning and going home, but again Toby speaks up. “I-I don’t th..tthink you should talk t-to Tim anymore.” He decides for her, “..O-Or Brian. Don’t talk to either of them..” Muttering to himself again only a little louder, “Th-They’re basically the same..”
Another guy that’s just trying to tell her what to do. How many times would she shoot down that kind of control? “I don’t think you have any say either, Toby. I…I think you should calm down..then we can talk–” Ophelia takes a step back, looking over her shoulder, then back to his now shaking silhouette. “Y-You listen to Tim. Not mm..me.” His shadowed figure staring at her, orange goggles were the only thing she could actually make out.
She wanted to interject, she really didn’t listen to anyone, but that was besides the point. Her night was once again shifting closer to a horror movie. Her headache returning at the worst time, she swore the static was getting louder. As if someone was turning the dial on an old radio in the back of her brain, it was getting harder to focus.
“I should…get home, Toby…”
“N-No.” It felt like he was staring a hole straight through her. Clutching one of the handles by his hip. His hand flexed as if trying to check if it was still there.
“Toby..?”
He finally revealed himself. What the night hid, a huge blood splatter across the front of his hoodie. His labored breath, his eyes looked desperate behind the orange barrier. “D-Don’t run.” Ophelia didn’t listen. Staring at the reveal of his axe in the light, connecting the stain on his front to the blood that dripped from the edge of the blades that swung lazily at his side.
She turned without hesitation starting off at a full sprint.
As fast as she could, which wasn’t saying much. Her sneakers pounded against the pavement, too afraid to even look back. She knew he was chasing after. Through the hammering pain that nearly stopped her in her tracks she could easily make out the sound of his boots gaining on her. He was faster, proving it by easily grabbing her wrist.
Her body whipped, nearly slamming against the road if Toby hadn’t been holding onto her. “Ophelia, puh-please!” He pleads with her, grip tight around her. She needed to live. Ophelia had made it so far, just to die on her second encounter with a definite-arsonist murderer? She wondered what her fire would look like after he threw the match.
In the palm of his hand, she faced him. What she assumed was a mask was instead a muzzle that now hung from his neck. What the bandage previously hid was a large gash that connected to the scar over his eye. Teeth peeked through where red and scarred skin stretched the edges. Contrasting against the softness of his Her breath shook, she wasn’t even sure if anything was real. “Toby..” Her voice allmost a whisper, unsure if she’d even make it 15 more feet to her apartment's driveway. Even without a street light she could see him clearly. The scent of blood and earth flooded her senses. Her head continued to spiral downward.
His brows knit concern, eyes locked only on her. “Ah..” He starts, mouth open as he thought about his own words. “Are you scared of me, Ophelia?”
It was a stupid question. The answer was obvious to anyone.
Her fear sourced from her life probably ending, but when she thought about Toby. It was almost hard to be truly afraid. Making it out alive was at the top of her list, the same way since she was a child.
Headlights shone over the hill behind her. Illuminating Toby’s bloodied figure, and flipping a switch in his head. He released her with a low whine as if they’d been interrupted in the middle of an important conversation. His muzzle returned to saddle his face. Ophelia didn’t wait around to find out where he’d run off to, instead turning the second he let go and setting off to a run.
Maybe the car had slowed down after noticing a girl running in the night, but she didn’t care. Home. Her eyes set on her front door, she was almost there. Ophelia would go inside, shower, and sleep in peace. Be thankful she survived.
Before she hit the stairs, her footing became unsteady. Tripping over herself, and losing herself in the process. Night washed over and that old radio distorted in her mind.
She wakes up standing in the center of a bright white light.
“Do you fear for your life yet?” A deeply warped voice spoke behind her.
Ophelia turns, trying to find the source.
In an empty room, white walls and floors that went on forever, all she could see was a shadow out of the corner of her eye.
No one.
“Do you want to remember it all?” They threatened. Ophelia turned again.
No one.
The smell of the morning dew, the sound of the flowing river nearby, rustling of leaves. These sounds were non-threatening. Ophelia just didn’t remember leaving her window open.
Her voice was hoarse, trying to complain about the wet prickles against her skin, but nothing came out. Trying to find the object stabbing her within her bedsheets only resulted in the discovery that there were no bedsheets to find.
The woods around her brushed with the golden sunrise, the sky hinting with light blues.
“What..the fuck..” She manages to speak, sitting up and looking around. Wearing her clothes from the night before, her sneakers unlaced and caked in mud. Her shirt and jeans clung to her, damp from the elements and covered in mud. The grass around her long and unkempt, and under her lay a bed of wildflowers and moss. Without any idea of how she’d gotten there, she just blamed a bout of sleepwalking. Maybe her headache had morphed into a supernaturally painful migraine? Her inner auto-pilot leading her into the quiet of the forest. Scanning more of the area, hoping to find a landmark to find her way. Nothing stood out aside from the metal glint that caught her eye in the brush.
Crawling closer, moving the strands of green to reveal a clean kitchen knife. Blade pointed away from her, as if it was thrown to the side without a care.
She stood up, backing away from the possible evidence.
Ophelia was getting more confused by the second. Looking around for more clues, but finding none. It felt like someone was watching her. Waiting for her to notice them. She reminded herself to take a deep breath. No one was watching her. This was just a case of weird sleepwalking. It wasn’t something she’d done in years, but not shocking. Again, she needed to remind herself that no one was watching her.
Instead of searching for the source to that dark feeling, Ophelia decided to make a single smart decision and try to make it home. Of course she’d brought her biggest kitchen knife. Making it harder to conceal on her walk from her makeshift camp. Without a plan on what to do next, she stumbled unsteadily down a path of grass footsteps. Even after the trail mixed with animal tracks, she continued straight. Eventually coming across the back of her apartment.
Home wasn’t far, which she was thankful for. Sore muscles pushed her up the stairs, her downstairs neighbor lifted a blind just to watch her stalk tiredly. Ophelia couldn’t be bothered by his eyes, not with the feeling that she’d been followed home.
Her front door was unlocked. Great. Not being able to remember even coming inside, she was surprised that her door wasn’t wide open too. Possibly inviting any kind of creep to walk in and steal away her life. Her purse was even dropped right at the door. Closing and locking the deadbolt behind her, a quick survey of the living room didn’t show that anything was missing. The microwave displayed the time; 7:30. At least she had time to prepare for her shift later, sighing and going to make a cup of tea for the ache in her throat.
The knife laid on the kitchen island. Mocking her while the kettle boiled. Her mug pulled from the drying rack, waiting with a teabag saddled on its edge. Ophelia was trying to recount her steps from that night, how did she get the knife then leave her house? How could a migraine be blamed? Or sleepwalking? She sighed, pinching her bridge between her eyes.
Whatever happened to her, she’d try her best to fix it. Something the doctor could figure out, hopefully.
The ring of her cordless got her attention. In the corner of her island, she reached for the phone only to be met with a spam caller.
6 missed calls. 4 voicemails.
And in digital letters; MONDAY, JUNE 16.
Monday?
Ophelia left work on Saturday. The concert was on a Saturday. She met Toby on Saturday night.
The clock had to be wrong, surely.
She scrambled to find the remote to her small TV set, finding it shoved between couch cushions. The familiar news anchor talking about a local food bank opening in town, bantering with his co-anchor who folded her hands on their shared desk. In the left corner of the screen she noted the scrolling date.
MONDAY. JUNE 16. LIGHT SHOWERS IN THE EVENING, HIGH OF 82.
It was hard to believe she’d been out for a full day. Maybe she was still dreaming? A whole dream within a dream. Ophelia had seen enough movies with the plot, though none ever seemed as real as this one.
Her kettle squealed, crying for attention. Eyes wide with fear watching the steam pillow out of the spout.
Her body moved back to the kitchen. Clicking the stove off while the kettle screams winded down. She figured there was only one way to find out if she was dreaming. Even her hand warped in her vision, staring down at her fingers.
Reaching out just enough to touch the tip of her right pointer out and touching the red middle of the still boiling kettle.
The pain registered immediately. Yelping and falling back onto the kitchen tile. Grasping her finger tightly as she stared up at the stove in disbelief. Tears pricking the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over the more she thought.
Where the hell had she been?
comment . . . would you guys believe that tomorrow JULY 6TH is my 25th birthday? i have this and another birthday goodie coming out tomorrow before i go back to working on requests and more wips hehe
i hope you guys enjoy this part!!!! i know it took me a minute, but i was really mulling over this one hehe next part will have brian and a breaking point, im literally chewing at the bit as im finishing up my draft
Holding you extra tight when you sleep at night. Her kisses only get deeper the longer you're interlocked.
She's tired of dealing with the rest of the idiots in the mansion, tired of the constant ticking. Tired of the bullshit. You're pure, untainted by her cynicism. You embrace her and all of her quirks. No judgement, you just love her for all that she is.
This only motivates her to love you harder.
Possess all of you, so you'd never look at anyone else and leave her behind. Spending your time with someone else? That was probably her current worst nightmare. You still don't mind, how could you hate her dominance? That possession is what you've always wanted.
Someone (probably Jeff) would make some obscene comment and Natalie wouldn't hesitate to threaten their life. Catching someone staring for too long and she's holding their gaze with a firm glare. "C'mon." She'd simply guide you away, someplace private.
Her favorite spots to take you were mostly secluded parts of the woods, but she'd always love you in her bed.
Tangled in the sheets, flipping through some book.
It gave her time to watch you, trace the lines of your body, kiss your skin just to distract you. That sweet huff you'd make before pouting, "Nat, I'm trying to read." She would smile, tossing the book to her nightstand before rolling to her back and pulling you on top of her.
You made her feel like she had all the time in the world.
Soft, sweet kisses. Your hands placed so sweetly on her chest, trying to keep yourself supported while each peck got more desperate. Hungrier for more of her sweet girl.
Her hands held tight on your hips, grinding up against your seat on her lap. Smirking at your innocent expression. "You wanna?" She would offer, and of course you'd agree. Your shyness only went so far, you always gave into Natalie's wants.
Next thing you know, she's buried between your thighs. Taking her time kissing at the plush of your inner thighs, an occasional bite or nip while she watched your expression. Your clenched fists trying to cover your mouth failed to muffle the sweet whines and mewls that escaped. Her smile widening with each twitch, each lift of your hips that begged for her touch.
She wasn't cruel to her lover, Natalie loved this near-selfish need of yours.
Planting a kiss over your clit, her tongue giving you a generous swipe up from your hole that begged for any ounce of attention. She watched you sink into the bliss of her old mattress while slipping two fingers inside easily. You were so used to her by now, she almost wondered how easy it'd be to strap you down and fuck you till you begged for mercy.
Natalie tried to shake the thought out of her head, needing to take care of you.
Lapping up every bit of your slick that dripped down your heat, her fingers hooked inside of you. It was amazing watching you try to keep down the moans that resulted, she would make sure you had no choice but to cry out for her.
When she speeds up her fingers pace, you whine louder. Thrashing into the bed, grasping tightly onto the sheets enough to pull a fitted corner free. Her mouth giving your clit all the attention it needed, her previously chapped lips now glistening with remnants of you. Your cunt pulsed around her, nearly crying with you when she pulled back to focus on finishing you off with just her two digits.
"C'mon, cum for me." She grins as you cry out her name, arching into her while she bounced you in place.
Only slowing down the harder you shook. The release ripping through you, holding her intense gaze while she watched you unravel.
The clock ticked, but all she wanted to hear was your voice begging her to come hold you. Your hands unlatched from the sheets, reaching out for her. Your chest rising and falling, lips parted.
Natalie just smirked.
"No, baby...I think we have time to play a little more, right?"
comment . . . HAPPY PRIDE. clockwork is lowkey my passion. she reminds me of my handsome butch husband so i needed to put this out before june ended. ive got 100 wips rn that im working on but i NEEDED to release this into the world. theres a serious lack of natalie out there and i felt like this was really necessary
any other updates....i have chapter 3 of caldonia finished, chapter 4's draft is in progress. i guess im just holding it back until i finished up a request that ive been working on. im getting slower the closer i get to my period so spare me pls im trying my best
mm my birthday is next week, so id also like to write something as a treat for myself, keep an eye outttt
Omg hi! Ugh I just love the way you write for Tim is so amazing<3 do you think you could write a Tim x reader if they were to get into an argument? (Making up in the end ofc) The rest is up to you!!
comment . . . anon. im so fucking serious this ask got me pregnant. my favorite thing ever is pissed off tim. i felt like i was fulfilling the prophecy by releasing this into my google docs. my google docs pregnant too. i need a cigarette...
tim wright / masky x proxy!reader (18+) ♡ 1.7k wc
content . . . ambiguous relationship/first time with tim, the proxy cabin, reader is bratty, tim is a control freak, mild argument (it's ragebaiting tim), teasing, p in v, fingering
You’re reckless and he’s sick of it.
The mission was simple, just watch the target and track his routine. You were the one who decided to lure the guy in. “What are you doing?” He scoffs, gripping your arm. You just pull it away with a smile, “Our job, Tim.” He starts to protest, but you’re already off to talk to the man you’d been stalking for 4 hours.
He wasn’t particularly strong or intimidating, it would be another simple job in the books. If that’s what your mission had actually been then good job, but he seethed in silence watching you walk away. The task was simple. No violence. Yet there he stood 6 feet away tucked behind a tree while you pulled the clueless victim past the trees and into the brush. He couldn’t get a hold of you, never knowing your next move.
You were annoying.
Even if Tim was your senior in this weird job you shared, you never listened to him. Even if you seemed to have no problems when Brian was involved. He searched his pockets for a lighter to meet the end of his unlit cigarette, turning his back to your grand scheme. Tim missed your footsteps gaining up on him. A branch snapping under your sneaker, you met his sulk with a smile. “All done.” You sang out happily, but he just rolled his eyes.
“Good job.” Sarcasm was apparent. He couldn’t even look at you, it would just be better to suffer in silence for the walk back through the trees. Tim was just thankful you weren’t in a talkative mood. From the corner of his eye you’re just enjoying the walk. Watching the leaves above you sway in the near-sunset, not a care in the world.
For a moment he almost thought that his anger would fizzle out once he made it inside, the door shutting behind you. Tim cursed you again for finishing so quickly. If Brian or Toby had been home then you’d have a buffer to allow him to escape.
“What’s wrong? You’re pouting.”
He turns to see you standing with your hands on your hips. With the smallest amount of patience, he turns away again, attempting to make his escape. “Nothing.” A warning that you don’t listen to. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be pouting.” The retort shoots through him.
You’re taking off your boots when he turns around, unaware of the glare directed towards you. “You really want to know what’s wrong? Seriously?” Tim’s facing you when you look up, and that annoying smile grows on your face. “--Like you don’t know..” He huffs, crossing his arms.
You just shake your head innocently. “How would I know? We had a successful mission, a nice walk back, I’m about to make some dinner.” You’re fucking with him, but it’s gone over his head. “Oh- Oh a ‘successful’ mission! When you go against the plan, drag a guy into the woods and kill him. Real successful.”
“Why stalk him when we can just finish him off?” You feign confusion, and Tim groans. It wasn't like you were a brand new proxy. It was really just you not wanting to waste time, you knew that eventually another task would come through to kill the man in the woods. It was just a matter of finishing up early instead of trekking around the forest at night. Tim was more straight laced than that, wanting things to go his way rather than listen to someone else.
“You’d rather be reckless than safe, that’s fine. Just do it when you’re alone and I don’t have to watch you seduce random guys into the bushes.” He tosses his hands, making his way into the small kitchen. You follow. His subtle confession only makes you more interested.
“Seduce?” You muse, and he huffs again. Tim’s trying not to look your way. He’s ‘busy’ looking in the fridge while you get closer. “I think I know what’s wrong…maybe…” You tease, poking his arm holding the door open with your index. “You’re jealous?”
Tim straightens, the fridge slamming closed. He still won’t look at you. “How can I be jealous? You’re annoying.”
You don’t move, instead standing your ground against his small tantrum. “Well, I just thought with that whole ‘seducing’ line..” Tim cuts you off, a finger raised to shut you up. “Because you did- Maybe if you actually listened for once–”
“What? Gonna punish me?” The hearts in your eyes form as you watch him process your teasing. Your hands behind your back, smile on your face.
Once the dots connect, you see his expression darken. “Punishment’s one word for it.” You think you’re getting away with it before he moves, he never followed up on your weird flirting before. Tim’s build easily engulfs yours, you could never overpower him. He grabs at your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You squirm against him even if it doesn’t get you anywhere. His arm holds you in place while he walks you towards his bedroom. His boots thud against the floor, each step feeling the weight of his patience.
The room at the end of the hall. Just next to yours, you watch it disappear as he kicks the door shut behind him.
The bed’s made neatly, untouched before you’re thrown onto the cotton sheets. Tim stands at the foot of the mattress, watching you adjust yourself up. You go to speak before he moves his palm over his belt to undo it. “Just shut the fuck up.” He sighs, leather unrolling from each loop before hitting the ground with a loud metal clang.
His knee bends on the plush sheets, moving in closer towards you. Your thighs part, trembling from the nerves. You’d never made it this far. This was Tim, serious Tim. The guy who’s face flushed red when he couldn’t handle your disobedience. His hands are still fumbling at his zipper with each inch closer towards you. Your eyes trailed up his torso, along his flannel buttons and to his very focused gaze. Your reflexes cause you to try and back up before he closes in on you.
He’s a better kisser than you imagined. Pushing past your guarded knees to meet you. His stubble scratches against you, but you barely take note. Hands travelling up to his hair, your fingers curling softly while he’s holding onto your hips. Moving you down and pulling down at the belt loops of your jeans.
“Y…You’re so wet..” He starts breathless from the kiss, you’re too dazed to notice your pants had made it halfway down your thighs. The pads of his index and middle finger prod at the wet center of your underwear. A moan escapes you, eyes clamping shut and unable to see the smirk on his face while he watches you squirm at his light touch.
The fabric pushed to the side, Tim takes his time tracing you with a torturously slow pace. “T-Tim….pleaseee…” You whine quietly, hands balling up over your eyes trying to hide the tears that prickled from his teasing.
“If this was all it took to get you to behave, I should’a fucked you months ago.” He muses before circling your clit with a heavier hand. Your fists crash into the sheets by your hips, grasping for your life against the tension. “You agree, yeah?” He’s having too much fun. Sitting back on his heels for a better look at you. Tim seemed more than proud of himself for disarming you like this.
His free hand is pulling your jeans off and tossing them off the bed. Tim is usually more composed, but you can’t help but note his growing impatience. Pushing your thighs up, he moves to saddle you on his still-clothed crotch. His erection budding against your ass through the break in his zipper.
“You gonna say something? Or just lay there and be good?”
No response only seems to make him happier, your head bashfully turned to the side. He’s pulling himself out of his boxers and lining up with your entrance. Wet slick coating his head as he massaged along your slit. “Don’t worry, I know you can take it.” Tim dotes while admiring the view.
He’s thick, a black trail peeking out from under his shirt and leading down and around the base of his shaft. Tim prods against you, a twinge of pain sounding in you as he pushes deeper. Probing against your tight walls, you feel every movement. Every throb of his cock vibrating through you. You’re trying not to cry out, covering your mouth with a still tight fist.
Tim finds your wrist with his hand that isn’t focused on your core. Pulling your makeshift gag from your lips and moving it to replace his hand over your clit.
You finally look up at him through teary eyes, and see how he’s starting to come undone.
His damp fingers work at the buttons on his flannel, showing dark hair that spread across his chest. His face that familiar blush, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re tight…fuck…” Through gritted teeth he tries to regain his composure. “Feel how wet..?” He’s looking at you through dark lashes. His appearance was so perverted, you felt like a freak just looking up at him. You tightened again, eliciting a low groan from him. His head rolls back as he moves. Not even checking on you, your hand drifts to hold at the fabric of your slightly bloodied shirt. You stretched without much effort, he fit perfectly after only a minute inside you. Your pussy leaked around him, skin meeting skin filled the room as he managed to find a rhythm.
His thumbs pressed into your hips, his grip firm while he fucked into you. Your head spinning with every thrust, every deep breath to compose himself, every heated look into your eyes.
You don’t remember how many times he makes you cum, or when you’d both lost the rest of your clothing. Only that the sky past the old linen curtains had melted into a pitch black, which you only noticed after curling up into Tim’s side. Sweat sticking you both together with no intention of breaking apart any time soon.
“I don’t think I really count that as a punishment, by the way.” You break the silence with your over-used voice. A tired laugh bounces his chest, shaking you before falling back to calm.
“Yeah, I was hoping you’d forget about that line.” Tim retorts back, his hand travelling from rubbing circles into your back to petting your hair down. “It’s okay, Tim.” You smile, raising your head to look at him. “You can always try again next time.”
i just got an anon that made me start bursting at the seams just thinking abt it so now i need to talk about my favorite thing; pissing tim off. featuring an insert from my oc x polyproxy fic. to the anon who sent it. thank you. i am working on your request, this is a side rant that i cant keep to myself hehe
tim is easy to frustrate, but i think when it comes to a partner he likes to think he has a better temper. yeah he can get upset or annoyed but i dont think hes ever like fight-yelling. hes the kind of guy that constantly sounds like hes lecturing you.
its ANNOYING but i have this image in my mind of him standing in front of me while bitching at me. huffing and sighing bc im being difficult, is sleeves are half rolled and hes switching his hips. ugh...nd his hair is getting messy bc he keeps running his hand through it. (his shirt raising just a bit each time he throws his hands up.....)
i dont think id ever be able to take him seriously id have too much fun ragebaiting him. id be standing there just taking it while hes like 'UGH WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT' with romantic harps playing in the background
i dont think he can stay mad for too long tho. like he pouts for hours, maybe even a full day. you're getting into bed that night and hes sitting there just staring at you. 'what?' you ask him, and he just rolls his eyes. opening his arm for you to come closer. 'just get over here.' he'd mutter like it was just killing him to give in, but he knows that he's usually the one who takes it a bit too far.
im putting my oc rambling here bc i know not everyone gives a gaf abt it
but ok like to talk about ophelia and her general relationship with tim at the start. i think that theyre so cat and mouse. tim wants her to listen to him, not to make any serious mistakes. like yeah hes interested in her but i think hes more pissed that he cant bitch at her like he does with toby. i think he lectures brian, but brian dishes it back out. ophelia i think just gets fed up with it. the same way that she felt in the junkyard, she would bite back and its like confusing for him
in the og script for this i even had tim being like 'girl what' when she calls him a douche but i took it out bc i like the idea of him not being used to people snapping back at him, at least not in a long time. toby wouldnt waste his breath most of the time and if he ever does then tims quick to be like 'when do you ever shut up' even if tims the one who runs his mouth the most out of the three
ophelia at the start of knowing tim is very much like 'if he wasnt so annoying he'd actually be hot' but i think she likes the bickering
anyways....im gonna work on that request...........
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
amandla