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This is a ticcitoby x reader story! This is my 3rd time writing a story and my grammar and spelling might be bad because I'm dylexic and English isn't my frist language
This ticcitoby in my book doesn't immediately fall in love with you...
It was a snowy Friday night. You were walking home from your friend's house after a study session, headphones on, music filling your ears. You lived just five streets away, so you decided to take a shortcut through the forest. As you made your way through the snow-laden trees, the song in your headphones ended, and "Tag, You're It" by Melanie Martinez started playing. It was instrumental, which made it feel even eerier—especially here, alone, in the woods. You suddenly felt a chill, like someone was watching you from afar. You brushed it off, thinking it was probably just an animal.
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If only you knew.
High up in a tree to your left, a man was watching you. Messy brown hair, orange goggles over his eyes, a mouth guard covering his face, and a hatchet gripped tightly in his hand. This was no random stranger—it was Toby Rogers, Slender Man's main proxy, tracking you from a distance.
As you neared the street where your house stood, you felt a presence. Turning around, your heart nearly stopped when you saw him—a figure closing in on you, hatchet gleaming under the dim streetlights. You couldn't make out his full appearance, but the sheer terror sent adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your hands started shaking, and you felt frozen in place for a moment before your fight-or-flight instinct kicked in.
You sprinted toward your house, not daring to look back. Fumbling with your keys as you reached your front door, you could feel him getting closer. The door clicked open just in time—you slammed it shut behind you and locked it.
Breathing heavily, you sighed in relief, only to notice your guardians standing in the hallway, both looking at you with confused expressions.
"What's wrong, hun?" one of them asked.
"Yeah, why did you just slam the door like that?" the other chimed in.
Panic flared inside you. What do I say? If I tell them I was chased by a killer, they'll never let me out again.
"Uh... a pitbull chased me," you blurted out. They seemed skeptical at first but nodded, remembering how the neighbors often let their aggressive dogs out at night.
You headed upstairs, trying to calm down. First, you laid out some comfortable clothes, then grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom. You peeled off your clothes, feeling sticky and sweaty, and took a long shower to wash away the fear. After drying off and doing your skincare routine, you slipped into your comfy clothes and collapsed onto your bed, scrolling through TikTok to take your mind off things.
Your eyes grew heavy as you watched an edit of Ticci Toby—the very person who had chased you tonight. You eventually drifted off to sleep.
But at 2 AM, you jolted awake. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the house. Footsteps—heavy, deliberate—approached from the kitchen, growing louder as they climbed the stairs. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. The steps stopped right outside your door. You held your breath as the doorknob twisted.
You had locked it, but it didn't matter. The intruder had a hatchet. The door began to splinter and crack under the blows. Then, the door gave way, and he stepped into your room...
You shot awake, gasping for air, drenched in cold sweat. Looking around, everything was normal—your door was intact, untouched. What the hell? You checked your phone. It was 6:43 AM. Shaken but needing to move, you remembered your college exam at 8:20 AM.
You quickly got ready, left the house, and headed to McDonald's for breakfast—trying to shake the lingering terror of the nightmare.
