Creepypasta Tumblr Scenarios

Ticci Toby/Reader Lemon

Prompt from Anon: May I humbly request a wfsn scenario with Toby and his s/o? Maybe she's made him angry or something?

I was pacing the room anxiously when Toby walked back in. He had gotten himself injured again by carelessly leaving his weapons all over his bed and laying down on them. He'd gone to see the house medic with a shallow stab wound on his right arm, leaving me alone while he went to treat it. He had taken off his hoodie, leaving him in a grey t-shirt and his upper arm was bandaged but I could see spots of blood that had soaked through. He grinned at me, shutting the door behind him.

"All patched up!" He said cheerily, his arm twitching.

I glared at him but he didn't notice at first, shoving ones of his axes and the knife that had wounded him under the bed. He turned around and frowned.

"What?"

"What? What? Toby you can't keep being this careless! One day you're gonna lay on top of a knife or an axe and it's going to kill you!" I said sternly, folding my hands across my chest.

"I am careful, it was just this one time," he shrugged nonchalantly. Did he not get it?

"It was not 'just this one time', this happened over and over and over again because you're too lazy to see what's under you! Start paying attention!"

He stared at me, brown eyes blank until he blinked and something else in them sparked. "I'm not lazy," he hissed at me, fists clenched. "I do check but sometimes I forget or miss a tiny knife like that, okay?"

"Then check better!"

"Oh yea, 'cause that'll help get rid of this, huh?" He snarled.

"Yes, Toby, it will because you'll stop getting hurt. Stop being a fucking dumbass and grow up." I snapped.

"What did you say to me?"

"I'm worried about you," I said, trying to keep my voice down so that this didn't turn into a full blown argument. He wouldn't talk to me for days if that happened and I didn't want that.

"Don't be. I don't need someone like you worrying about me!" He shouted, hand half raised in the air. I flinched, an instinct developed after taking the brunt of his anger for weeks when we had first met. A shout always meant he was going to do something to me.

"Someone... like me?" I muttered, eyes blown wide. He didn't want this? Did he want to be hurt? Did he even want me here then? A few tears brimmed my eyes and threatened to fall. I thought we were past all of this. I thought he was finally letting me in, finally letting me care for him without him pushing me away.

Immediately his scowl softened and his fists unclenched, hand dropping as he realized the weight of his words. "Wait- no, that's not what I meant-"

"No, I think it's exactly what you meant. You don't even want me here, do you? I'm just here so you can take your anger out on someone without worrying about the cops," I shot back defensively, wiping away the tears that had managed to fall.

"No! No, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry," he pleaded, stepping closer to me and cupping my cheek with one hand.

I could tell he was sorry, and yes, he often blurted things out in the heat of the moment, but it didn't excuse the way it made me feel. I didn't say anything back, just looked into his eyes. He stared back and I could tell that he was trying to figure out how to fix the situation.

Without any warning or indication he was going to, he kissed me. It wasn't a big deal, we'd kissed before, and quite frequently, but I didn't expect it. He kissed hard, like his life depended on it, lips firmly pressed on mine. I didn't kiss back, still pouting over his comment.