Apathetic-Wounded

Apathetic-Wounded

You shook your head, disbelief flooding through you. "No." You denied. He nodded. "Yes." He retorted. He shoved past you again, leaning down once he reached you. "It's nice to see you up close, (y/n)." He muttered, exiting.

With a surge of confidence, or sheer stupidity, - likely the latter -, you grabbed his wrist. He turned around. "What do you want?" You snapped.

He laughed, but it was horrifyingly gravely and deep, and you didn't know what to make of it. With a strong grip on his wrist, him staring you down, and your face like a deer in headlights, he laughed.

Moving his hand to his pocket, he pulled something out. It was shimmery and sleek grey; there was a click sound, and the safety was off his gun. He did it skilfully, one handed. He tapped the cold barrel against the underneath of your chin.

You let go before he could say anything, though, you doubted he would've. "You're welcome. " he said. You held your breath, stepping back into your room as he left, somewhere out of sight.

There was no sound. Not the opening of closing of a door, not the jingle of keys. But after a moment, there was one: the sound of the kettle going off. You slowly entered the kitchen, skin crawling and heart thumping so violently against your ribs.

There was a mug, a foot away from the cabinet with the rest of the mugs. The sugar rested next to it. The spoon was on the sugars lid. And there was a teabag already in the cup.

The kettle continued to screech until you placed it on the other burner. Sitting against the counter top, you recalled the notes and the strangely sweet things.

Once again, there was a note. This time, it read,"Sorry for the scare!" In big, black ink. You sighed, thinking of what he could want. If he wanted money, then he was in the wrong place.

But he'd have to know that. He knew how you liked your coffee. What else could he truly want? Your mind flickered, and you needed to check on your mother. Dashing to her room, you quietly opened the door, only to find her awake, playing on her phone.

"Did you hear anything?" You asked, attempting to hide the absolute fear and panic that was sure to be lacing your voice. She shook her head, gaze returning to the screen of her phone.

You bolted out of her room, gently shutting the door, of course, and searched the rest of the house. After countless times of checking the rooms, you returned to yours, but not after making sure everything was locked.

After plopping on the bed, you shut your eyes, praying to wake up and have it all be a dream. But it wasn't, and you couldn't wake up from real life. Your phone buzzed lightly on the foot of your bed, and you picked it up, glancing at the screen.

It was a new message, but from a string of random numbers. This person wasn't in your contacts. You unlocked your phone, checking to see what it says. "Call the cops; I dare you!" It read.

Your heart sunk in your chest, a thundering headache splintering through your head. tears pricked at your eyes, streaming down your cheeks and falling onto the floor. "Fuck," you muttered. As you buried your face in the pillow, a scream shot out of your burning throat, being muffled by the soft fabric. "I can't do this," you thought.

Your mind scrambled, thoughts rushing back again and again to what they could want. But finally, it came back to the one possibility. You. They could want you. 

Masky/Tim head canons and scenarios

Head canons and scenarios for each! CW: Self-hate and swearing,

Stubborn: "Tim, oh my fucking God. Can you just admit you were wrong? You do not know where we're fucking going!" Brian yelled, slumping back against his car seat. "I do fucking know! I just made a wrong turn!" Tim retorted. "Sure," Brian muttered, rolling his hazel eyes underneath his black mask. "Quit being a stubborn asshole."

Chubby: As his eyes grazed over the parts of his body, a kind of shame washed over him. Grabbing at his tummy, a sickness fell over him, complete disgust lacing his sullen features. "Tim, your body is fine," you assured, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It's perfect to me, okay?"

Dad bod: His arms raised, and he flexed his gained muscle. "Dad bod energy!" Brian cheered. Tim's eyes fell onto the brunette man a foot or two away. "Up yours!" Tim joked. 

Not very touchy: You extended your arms, waiting. "What?" he asked, flicking the ashes of his small cigarette onto the concrete. You moved your arms, giving him a look. "You want a hug?" Tim scoffed, taking a long drag of his nicotine stick. (Lmao idfk) "Tough luck, kid."

Bad hygiene: As Tim stared in the dusty mirror, the smell of sweat overwhelming, he peeled off his clothes, dropping them into the hamper, he stepped back into his bedroom, walking to the closet. He grabbed some clothes, slipped them on exhaustedly, and fell into bed, falling asleep as he hit the pillow.

Hairy motherfucker: Your fingers brushed along the revealed skin of his, hand being tickled. "Damn, you hairy motherfucker." you joked. "Whatever," he rolled his eyes ruefully. "You still love me."

Intimidating: Tim's figure towered over the smaller boy, casting a dark shadow over his cowardly features. "Who are you talking to?" he snapped. "I'm sorry," the boy apologized. "Who the fuck are you talking to?" he repeated. "I'm sorry, sir."

Doesn't like sugary things: "How do you want your coffee?" you asked, peeking your head from the kitchen to watch Tim's eyes flicker to yours before his answer. "Black," his eyes flicked back to the book he was reading, eyes moving slightly with every word he consumed. "Like your soul?"

Doesn't like cheesecake (y'all ruined it): "Want a slice of cheesecake?" you questioned, slipping a piece of the sugary treat onto Brian's plate. "No?" he said, yet his answer sounded almost questioning, as if he were confused by your inquiry. "What?" you replied, noticing his foreign tone. "I don't like cheesecake anymore," he said, eyes refusing to leave his distraction. "Why?" you pressed. "Brian."

Black coffee: "What can I get you to drink?" the waitress asked. "Coffee," Tim answered. The waitress' eyes turned to you, waiting. "And you?" she pressed. "I'll have (f/d)," you answered. She nodded, walking off. Returning a moment later, she placed your drinks down, sliding packets of sugar to Tim's side. "Milk?" she asked. He shook his head. "I like my coffee black; thank you, though,"

Favorite food is prob grilled cheese with tomato soup: As your eyes fluttered open, the scent of food filled your nose. Toddling into the kitchen, you watched as Tim put the last grilled cheese onto his plate. "Whatcha eatin'?" you asked. "Grilled cheese and soup," 

Basic bitch: Opening his closet, flannels, jeans, and hoodies hung. "Red flannel, red flannel, or red flannel?" you teased. "I think I'll go with the red flannel," he joked. "Good choice,"

Listens to classic rock (like AC/DC or something): Climbing into the car, Tim flicked on the radio, scowling and sighing as some hip-hop song began to play. "Hand me that CD, would you, (y/n)?" he requested. Handing him the flat piece of plastic, he took it gratefully. Inserting it, he pressed play, and AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' began to play. After a few minutes of the song playing, he sang along the entire time. "I'm on a highway to hell!"

Aero sexual: "What's your sexual preference?" you asked, glancing over at Tim, his eyes red. "None of the above,"

Needs time to himself: "Tim, can't you just tell me what's wrong?" you whined, following behind the towering man. "Nothing's wrong, (y/n), I just need some time to myself. "Are you sure?" you pressed. "I'm sure!" he slammed the door behind him, making you stop in your tracks. "God damnit, Tim."

Smokes all the fucking time: You clambered out of the bed, the smell of smoke slightly preset.  "Tim?" you muttered, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. He hummed slightly, torso pressed against the windowsill, hand and head out of the window with his other cupping his hand's elbow. "Why the fuck am I in your bed?" 

Brian forces him to drink tea 'cause it helps smokers: "Timothy, you smoke excessively. Just drink some tea," Brian said, placing the steaming cup in his friends' reach. "Fuck you, Brian," he snarled. "Well, I'm not going to let my friend die from black lungs!"

Good at math: You groaned loudly, eyes snapping shut in anger and frustration, as your hands pressed against your cheeks. "Oh my fucking God," you whined, tears pricking at your eyes, but you couldn't tell from what emotion. "What?" Tim asked. "Nothing," you lied. Eyes scanning over the paper once again, for the millionth time, perhaps, you sighed. A shadow cast over your figures, making you struggle to read the other equations. The paper lifted as Tim took the paper from your desk. "Are you kidding? The answer is negative sixty-seven,"

Hates math: "Thanks, Tim," you muttered. "No problem," he sighed. "What?" you inquired, writing down the answer. "I have to help you write out the equation, don't I?" he mumbled. Looking back down at the question once more, you concluded that the answer was yes. "Yes..." you answered. "I fucking hate math,"

Petty: "Tim, where's my slice of pie?" you asked, closing the fridge and standing to your full height. "My stomach," he replied. "Why?" you hissed. "Because you drank the last beer,"

Strongly opinionated: "Tim, oh my fucking God..." you pinched the bridge of your nose, holding your eyes closed angrily. "I'm sorry, is Brian not dirty blonde?" he hissed. "He's fucking brunette!" you yelled. "He's fucking dirty blonde!"

Hard to convince he's not right: "Tim, coffee is/isn't better than tea," you argued. "Lying asshole!" 

Bad at reading: "Tim, what's the order say?" Brian asked, glancing at his friend. "It says that we have to," he stopped, squinting his eyes. "Kill a guy names Duke Aubertine."

Needs glasses but refuses to get them: "Dude, you can't even read the fucking cover!" you teased. Tim's eyes squinted. "Fuck you,"

Anger issues: "Tim, you've got something on your shirt," you said, pointing to a spot in the center of his chest. He looked down, and you flicked his nose up. He grunted, pushing you away lightly, as he stormed off.

Okay cook: Your door creaked open, and you spun around to see the towering man in your doorway, holding a plate. "Made you some spaghetti," he said, placing the glass on your desk. "Thanks, Tim."

(NOT PROOFREAD; I'M SORRY IT'S BAD)

Homicidal Liu

"Get out." He snapped. "What?" I whispered. "Get out, you fucking whore!" He screamed. "No! We do this every fucking day, so I need you to listen!" I protested.

He picked up his knife, slinging it at me from across the room. It missed barely; a warning. "Fuck you, Jeffery!" I yelled, storming out of the room.

--

After three hours of waiting, I saw a figure approaching the mansion. "Finally," I teased. My eyes were still red from the tears and my face was wet. "Jeff?" He questioned, taking a seat next to me on the ground. Without my answer, he put his an around me.

"Liu, he told me he fucked Nina last night," I admitted. "He did what?" Liu snapped. "No, don't. It's okay, " I assured. "Did he cut you?" He inquired. "He tried."

I looked up at him; his breath fell softly against my face. Slowly, I moved up, pressing my lips softly on his. They were chapped and cracked but felt so nice. "Will you help get back at him with me?" I teased.

"If that means what I think it means, then yes." He joked. I pecked him again, grabbing his hand to guide him as I walked inside the mansion. Once we reached the room, I pushed him into the bed, not bothering to lock the door.

I wanted to get caught.

I smashed my lips against his greedily, eager for the feeling of his warmth on mine. Straddling his chest, I gripped his shoulders, exploring his mouth with my tongue.

He grabbed my waist, flipping us over so he was on top. "Didn't mean to mislead you, but I'm the top here, darling," he chuckled. His lips met the skin of my neck, bruising it deeply as he sucked and kissed.

I tangled my fingers in his brunette hair, squeezing slightly as he found a very nice spot. "That's just what I was looking for," he taunted. He abused the sweet spot, making me clamp my fingers.

As he treaded lower with the kisses, he reached the waistband of my shorts. He pulled the fabric down with his teeth, leaving me in a big hoodie and underwear. His fingers slipped my underwear to the side.

I shivered at the coldness of his touch, earning a silent laugh. "Are you sure?" He asked. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead-" My sentence was cut short by his thumb rubbing my clit. "Mm," I moaned.

He continued rubbing my clit as his other hand's fingers slowly slid into me. I moaned, arching my back as he abused my spots. I soon came, releasing onto his fingers. He lifted his sticky fingers up, spreading them to watch the cum stretch.

His fingers went to his mouth, and he licked them clean, smearing the spit on my thighs. "You're a very good girl, you know that, right?" He asked. "Mhm, yeah," I whispered.

As he unbuckled his jeans, pulling them down, he revealed his size. My eyes widened, and Liu took notice. "An I bigger than him?" He teased. I nodded. Sliding his shirt over his head, he tossed it and his scarf onto the floor carelessly.

Placing his reddened, leaking tip at my entrance, his hands trailed up my torso, resting on my breast, while the other wrapped gently around my neck. "Are you ready to take my cock, honey?" He squeezed my thigh reassuringly.

"Yes, sir," I answered. Slowly, he pushed in, making me moan and arch my back. His fingers intertwined with mine, and he allowed me to adjust before he began to slowly pump.

"Fuck, Liu-" I choked, clawing at his torso. "What? Am I hurting you?" He asked, brows knitted. "Oh, God, no. It feels so fucking good-" I cried. He sighed, thrusting faster.

His cock hit my G-spot and I nearly screamed. His fingers were cold and rough, but touched so softly against my skin, rubbing circles into my hips as I cried out his name. "Liu!" I screamed.

"I'm close-" I whimpered. "Cum for me, honey," he smiled. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him down to me, smashing my lips against his, moaning into the kiss.

He lifted himself back up, tossing his head back, brunette hair sticking to his face. Drool fell from my mouth, coating my cheek. Liu's eyes met mine again, and he smiled stupidly. "You're so fucking sexy under me; fucking hell." He moaned.

I cried out loudly as my orgasm washed over me. "Oh, fuck, I love you so much, Liu!" I yelled, shaking beneath him. My hands clawed at his torso, leaving little red lines.

He smiled, squeezing my thighs, as he came inside of me. Just then, the door swung open, revealing a feral-looking Jeff. "You fucking slut!" He screamed.

Liu pulled out of me, fixing himself, before charging at Jeff. Pinning him to the ground, Liu lifted his knife above his head.

"Sweetheart, go ahead and leave; I'll come and get you in a minute!"

Jeff the Killer Oneshot

I clicked off my TV, tossing my remote on my bed as I headed to the bathroom. I stripped down, stepping into the scalding water. I washed my hair, scrubbed my body, and got out, wrapping a towel around my body.

Once I stepped into my room, I changed into my bedclothes, ones that would at least provide some help to resist the sweltering heat of summer. I struggled to put my bra on my wet body, sliding it on and clipping it once I was dry enough.

I threw on a thin, baggy shirt and shorts. Once I finished, I set on my bed, sweating. I checked my phone, seeing a new message from a close friend of mine.

It was a news article; a picture of a ghost white man with long brown hair and a permanent smile carved into his fair skin. His eyes were a menacing blue. I watched the video, understanding that he was a serial killer on the loose.

I learned about his technique.

The wind blew my hair around as I opened my window in a sad attempt to cook my hot room. I walked back to my bed, collapsing into the sheets. I lay uncomfortably on my bed, rising and turning in the heat. Eventually, I slipped off my shirt, leaving me in my bra and shorts.

I allowed my eyes to flutter closed, slowly drifting off to sleep.

I woke up to a stinging pain between my thighs. As I tried to sit up, I realized that my neck was restrained. I squirmed, trying to free myself. My voice caught in my throat as my hands and asked struggled against my sheets, too.

Tears began to streak down my face, falling off my cheeks, and ending up on my pillow. My breath hitched as a white face greets me. "Hello, " it cooed. I couldn't speak.

His skin was ghost white like he'd been drained competent of his blood; two piercing blue eyes stared at me; long black hair covered his shoulders; a long grin was engraved into his face; he wore a white hoodie stained with deep crimson blood-- blood that had now dried and lightened in color--

"I'm talking to you," it snapped. "Hi," I whispered. "That's better," it praised. Two piercing blue eyes stared into mine, reading into my soul. I looked down at my thighs, the stinging pain yet to dwindle.

Noticing my divided attention, he followed my gaze. "Oh, do you like my work?' He laughed. I nodded, scared of what he would do if I said no. He pulled a silver, glistening knife up, rotating it. "Isn't that pretty?" He whispered. "Yes, very pretty," I agreed.

"Do you know who I am?"

I nodded.

"That's good."

His stained fingers made their way up to y neck, giving it a light squeeze. "So do you know what I'm going to do to you?" He muttered. I nodded lightly, allowing the horrifying reality to sink in. Pressing the sharp blade to my neck, he smiled impossibly wider.

Raising the knife above his head, he prepared to plunge it into my chest, but I couldn't key that happen. "Wait! I'll do anything, please, don't kill me!" I begged. "Anything!"

"Anything?" He teased. I nodded viciously, struggling against his restraints. Leaning up to whisper in my ear, "Then make me feel good, baby," his breath fell against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

His hands trailed down my neck, resting on my thinly covered breast. He pressed a sloppy kiss to my collarbone with chapped lips. Climbing up to sit on my chest. His hands planted firmly on my shoulders.

Unzipping his black skinny jeans, he partly revealed his white boxers. I could see his boner restricting against the fabric, and it turned me on even more. I smashed my thighs together, earning little satisfaction.

Putting his face closer to my neck, he placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to my neck, leaving behind deep purple and red bruises. "You ready to be a good slut for me?" He whispered.

"I'm so ready," I said, almost whimpering at the need growing in my stomach. "That's good," he cooed. Pulling his boxers down, his length began to slowly spring up. My mouth watered.

It leaked with pre as he tantalizingly stroked himself. Placing his tip at my lips, I opened my mouth, allowing him to insert himself. His veiny hands gripped my headboard as he slowly thrust.

I gagged slightly as his hips faltered when pushing into my mouth, but didn't stop sucking. He pulled out of my mouth, snapping his hips back into my face. I gagged on his dick as he violently face-fucked me, making me moan and vibrate his dick in my mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned. His fingers tangled in my hair as he bruised the neck of my throat. I felt his cock twitch in my mouth, and he soon filled it with his cum. "Good girl," he praised.

"Swallow." He demanded. I did as he did, swallowing his load. Cum and spit dripped from my bottom lip, quickly being wiped away by the man's finger. "You're too sweet to let go to waste, " he muttered, but not to me.

He shambled off me, settling himself between my legs. Propped on his knees, hands on my hips, he pulled my shorts down. Taunting my entrance with his finger, he slipped it up and down my folds; I tensed at his cold touch but eased up as he went.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, excitement flooding his crystal blue eyes. I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. His finger moved back to my entrance, using my wet as lubricant to slip in.

I winced as a burning feeling became slightly more prominent, but faded as he slowly pumped. I let out a soft moan as he inserted a second finger. My back arched up as his speed increased.

"Oh, mm-" I moaned, snapping my eyes closed. His fingers scissored and curled, making my hands clamp. "F-fuck!" I whined. "You like that, you little slut?" He hissed. "Yeah, oh, fuck. I love it-" I answered.

"You're such a little whore for me, aren't you? Letting me finger you and sucking on my dick so good; what a good girl."

As my orgasm washed over me, my legs shook, and my lips parted as I knitted my brows together. Releasing onto his hand, he pulled up his sticky fingers, spreading them to watch the cum stretch.

He put the wet fingers in his mouth, licking then clean. "You taste good," he commented, smearing his spit-covered fingers on the inside of my thigh, making the stinging pain return.

"Will you untie me?" I begged. "I wanna ride you so fucking bad-" he slapped me across the face. "You do what Isay, got it?" He spat. "Yes, sir, " I swallowed thickly.

He placed his tip at my entrance, both hands on each side of my head. "You're gonna take my dick so fucking good, 'kay? That tight little pussy is good grip me so fucking good."

He slammed into me; I clamped my hands, and tears streaked down my face and into my pillow. He thrust into me relentlessly, spit falling from his mouth. "Oh, your pussy's so fucking tight-" he moaned, grimacing.

My back arched as I came, releasing onto his dick. My walls clenched around him, making him cum deep inside me. "That's right; I'm filling you up so fuckin' good. And you love it, don't you?"

I nodded.

He pulled away, taking his knife and cutting my restraints. As he backed to my window, he left with one final message.

"I'm not done with you,"

Main 4 + Travis porn pref

Sal • Likes dirty talk •Bondage •Listens to degrading but can't take it himself •Is really into boys being dommed

Larry •Has seen everything whether it was a joke or not •Likes the audio-heavy vids •Nasty talk •Likes compilations Ash •Girls domming boys •W/ toys •Overstimulates herself •Likes the solo stuff

Todd •Tried watching straight porn but it didn't work •POV stuff •Facial POV •Mainly gay stuff •Isn't really into porn •Only watches when Neil can't help

Travis •Started with vanilla stuff •Started with girl on girl and straight porn •Stopped getting off to that so he branched out •Watches the most stomach wrenching, kinky, unbelievable shit •Questions if he's going to heaven

Jeff t.K NSFW hc's

Knife play Smacks the ever-loving shit out of you Marks you Carves his name or initials into your thighs or back, sometimes your ass Hand jobs Will make you beg Prefers to recieve head Edge lord (two in one joke) Will not let you cum That, or he'll overstimulate Spits in you or on you Says shut like "you're such a good fucking slut for me," or "Take it, whore, I know that you can" Can and will fuck you anywhere He especially loves doing it when yall can get caught Hickeys and bite marks