#ruincraft

His short, feathery tufts of dirty blonde fall over his forehead and just over his straight brows. If you look closely, you'll notice his patches of light freckles over his cheeks and eyelids.

Brian's plush, rosy lips and tooth gap offer a soft juxtaposition to the burliness of his fuzzy, swole pecs, defined arms, and the golden patch of hair tapered into a line just below his belly button. Standing at just under 6ft, his build is sleek and proportionate, lean muscles that look stone-carved by hand.

He has a bunch of healed, old scars but his body is somehow always sliced up, scraped, and bruised in little ways from being a rough and reckless guy. He's kind of a masochist and likes feeling soreness after exerting his body.

"You're staring."

"That's gonna leave a mark."

"Haha, next time, I'll chill, I promise."

There's his iconic painted mask, mustard yellow sweatshirt, and blue jeans- the uniform he wears when operating as Hoody. As for his casual wardbrobe, Brian likes rich, earthy colors, especially greens, blues, browns and black, but he also likes red.

He loves to see you in any color he'd pick for himself. Whether it's a camo shorts, a sky blue picnic dress, or a lacey, ruby red boudoir set, his bright, hazelnut-colored eyes darken, narrowing on you like a predator stalking his prey. He silently debates if he loves seeing you wear it more than he wants to rip it off of you.

"Holy shit, you're fucking gorgeous."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"I'll buy you another one."

Tree hugger and adrenaline junkie. Big hiker. Brian leaves you breaking a sweat and panting as you trail behind him. He belly laughs unapologetically at you stumbling down the steep paths back to the ground. Loves rock climbing and fishing.

"Watch your step."

"Watch your face, I like it."

One time he tried dirt biking and he considers it one of the best experiences of his life. It was the fast wind and the endless woods flying into nothing behind him, the crackling rumble of the engine under his feet, and the heart thumping thrill that leaves him craving it again.

"I miss having fun."

"Get ready, I'm taking you out."

Loves taking you on coffee dates, but is skeptical and takes precautions against being perceived. He'll wear sunglasses inside the cafe, a dark hoodie pulled tightly over his head, his black gloves covering his fingers.

He wants you to get dolled up, though, like any other date. The cafe reminds Brian of his former life as an ordinary college student, pounding caffeine and shuffling through papers with his buddies.

Now he enjoys watching your little lip bites, your eyes scanning the menu as you decide what to drink, and the way your lipgloss coats the end of your straw as you take sips of it as he sits across from you. He doesn't say much in public, mostly listens while you talk instead.

"Hm."

"Mine's good, taste it."

Brian's reserved at first, but with you, he loves to have wild conversations. He enjoys talking hypotheticals and picking your brain.

Playing devil's advocate is his toxic trait, he'll do it even if he agrees with you, but he thinks you're adorable when you're flustered and a little irritated. You catch on once you recognize that sleazy smirk on his face, the one that slips when he's amused.

"Well, that's what you think."

"I'm fucking with you."

"You look so cute right now."

Infodumps about his interests, especially historical events, machinery and firearms, physiology, and psychology. He knowledgeable about political leaders and ideologies but not because he's heavily politically affiliated, solely due to fixation purposes.

Brian wouldn't call himself a cinemophile, but he can't help but dissect the movies and shows you guys watch together. It's how he enjoys them to the greatest extent honestly.

He's the kind of guy that craves a deep, full understanding and is committed to finding answers. He likes to hear your interpretation and perspective because it gives him insight on your psyche.

"You get what I'm saying?"

"Not sure when I learned that."

Pretty terrible about his vices- the years of college frat partying ripples into his current lifestyle. Brian's a dedicated stoner and tends pound a few beers when he's in the mood, which fluctuates from being rather often to not so much.

"I'm chilling."

"Needed that."

His tolerance is high but he ends up laughing a lot when he's really intoxicated. Brian also gets more affectionate as the world falls away around him. He brushes his fingertips along your skin if you're sitting down together, and pulling you in to feel your warmth and breath you in.

"Fuck, I'm kinda trashed."

Loves your neck- the softness, your smell, your heat. He buries his face in between your neck and your shoulder often and gives you little pecks or nibbles. Brian also loves your face, he'll cup your face tenderly, or squeeze your cheeks together with his hand, planting a kiss on your lips, combing your hair with his fingers.

"Is it hot in here?"

"I'm horny."

"Come here."

Brian's libido is a loaded gun. Look in his eyes too lovingly, his cheeks are already glowing red. Stroke his neck too tenderly, he's stiffening in his pants. Kiss him a tad too deeply, he's twitching and jerking in poor efforts to keep himself from snatching your body up in hands and pinning it somewhere for him to absolutely ruin you.

"Stay still."

"Fuckin' gushing for me, you're so easy babe."

He's big on ownership. Brian wants submission and admission, he'll coax it out of you with his humiliating remarks. It turns your insides to goo when he reads you to shame, how your body responds to his commanding touch, how you turn to hide your flustered face.

Brian groans out teasing quips as you thrash and whine on his cock- making you feel so full, those torturous drags of his length undoing you and putting you back together all over again.

"You can take it."

"Like putty in my hands."

Giving you devastating backshots because you're so easy to maneuver when you're being drilled from behind. Brian's got your wrists bound together on your back in just one of his hands, hips ramming into your ass with loud, resounding smacks.

He grins sickly at your flushed, wrangled body under him, a weak chuckle erupting from his throat at the vision of it. You let out a yelp at hearing him, eyes squeezing shut with embarrassment.

"Holy shit, you're beautiful."

The camcorder's idle spot on the nightstand was not a decision made unintentionally. Brian finds the power button and points the lens to where your bodies connect, capturing the obscenity of his cock spearing the slick folds of your cunt.

His arm extends past your head, panning the frame to focus on your fucked-out expression, his dreamy torso and the center of his waist meeting your ass with each snap of his hips in the background.

Brian's grips your face, his thumb breaching the gap in your lips and settling on your tongue. You gag softly at the intrusion, to which Brian growls satisfiedly that he's getting you looking so pathetic for him on tape.

"Like that, baby, doing so good."

"That's my slut."

"Lookin' so pretty taking my dick."

His fingers wrap your throat, squeezing just enough to send a rush of hazy warmth to your head. He's burying himself to the hilt with each mind-numbing thrust, both of your feral moans overlapping into a lewd, heaving symphony.

The twisted combination of Brian's cruel manipulation tactics with the pleasure of his fuck overwhelms your system, the tension in your gut snapping as you break on his cock, gushing and clenching over his shaft.

"You're all mine, you know that?"

"Say it to me."

"Fuuuck, gonna give it to you, baby."

Your climax drives Brian to his own peak and releases deep inside your sore, beaten raw cunt as he palms the back of your head, locking you into a possessive, suffocating kiss. He drops his forehead to make contact with yours, the hollow space between his front teeth peeking through the sliver of his smirk.

"I fuckin' love you, honey."

"You're stuck with me."

🜏[regards... i can't express how badly i need this man. it's an affliction. these hc posts for tim and brian have been in drafts for a min, needed to get them out bc i have so many things to work on with my one-shot wips, kinktober, and my first fic series concept that i just conceived last night with brian ahhh. locking in chat...]

🜏[ruin's masterlist]

🜏[if i cannot inspire love, i will cause fear

He's frequently running his hands through his raven black hair (perhaps a nervous fidget), adjusting the strands so they fall neatly to one side. What he doesn't touch often are the sideburns, he thinks they look best grown out naturally with minimal trimming.

When Tim's not behind the mask and taupe bomber jacket, he wears a lot of flannels layered over a wife beater and his worn out Levi's. His leather belt with the clanky buckle and mud-coated boots look ready to be replaced.

"One way to do it, I guess"

"I might not be an expert but-"

"Have we thought about this?"

Tim likes to think he's a straightforward man, but his faith in others is easily shaken and he's quick to voice his doubts and concerns. You'll catch him with his chin to his chest, pitching the bridge of his nose in anguish at the haphazard crew of unstable outcasts.

"Christ, you guys are stupid."

Smoke breaks are frequent and Tim makes an effort to be a gentleman about it, especially around Sally, even though she's technically much older than him. He usually disappears without a word, only stopping his tracks to extend an invitation to you.

"Taking a step out, you coming?"

You hardly refuse, you love to watch his somber expression as he pulls the smoke into his lungs and blows it out through the corner of his lips. His eyebrows permanently fixed in a furrowed position, except when you fill the silence with your brain vomit.

His brows curve inward, a smile tugging at his cheek. You puzzle him sometimes, with your trivial fanatics and theoretical contemplations.

"You're strange, you know that?"

"That's why you're with me, I guess."

That one time you brought a tiny, yipping animal home to make your pet, he rolled his eyes and reached for his cigarette pack. At first, watched you tend and play with it through the thin slits of his eyelids. Tim couldn't help but grow a soft spot for the furball, he kind of saw it as an extension or reflection of you.

"Great, more responsibility that I didn't ask for."

"...Can I pick it up?"

Tim would never admit that he's a bit a of a people pleaser, but more than that, the act of service might just be his life's purpose. He's not only very physically capable, but attentive and obeys your whim even if reluctantly. Your happiness fills the gaping void in his stomach and for a moment, he'll unclench his jaw to see the satisfaction in your smile.

"You know how much I love you, darling."

"Just say the words."

"I'm still the boss around here."

The brawny man maintains his figure with a hearty, game based diet and lots of strength training. During his push up set, Tim tells you to sit on his back for "additional resistance". He just loves to hear your giggles as your body shifts up and down with him as he pushes off the ground. He's frequently giving you piggy back rides or throwing you over his shoulder.

You made a habit of leaning against a beam on the porch to watch the boys chop firewood. Tim brings the axe down onto the plank and you swoon at the way his muscles contract and expand, his breathy grunts and the glistening beads of sweat that fly off when he flips his hair.

"Liking what you see, darling?"

Occupational circumstances make date night complicated. Nevertheless, Tim tries to make them feel as normal as humanly possible. He makes sure you both clean up nice and share a meal, even if it's just a fast food and drive-in movie.

"Get dolled up for me."

"Our usual routine."

Tim is a sucker for the softness of you. Your sweet face, your plush skin, the soft brush of your hair, the tenderness of your kiss. It disarms him, weakens the walls he puts up around him. It also strikes a pang of fear in him, knowing his tendencies and the violent spiral of a life he's gotten himself into.

"Being with you makes me feel normal."

"I'm not an easy man to keep."

"So sweet on me, aren't you?"

His kiss is needy but magnetic, he takes little breaths between each moment of contact with your lips, trying to draw it out and cherish the moment longer. His big hands settle on the sides of your hips, leaving a warm sting on your skin as he's pulling you closer to his burly body.

"Let me love you, gorgeous."

"Christ, you're perfect."

God, his fingers. His hands are thick, powerfully built, and he's absolutely addicted to how soft, wet, and warm your pussy feels as he curling his fingers inside you. A cocky grin on his face as he pushes in and out of your gummy walls, making a sticky mess between your thighs and his hand.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

"I'm all yours, darling."

You hiccup, giving him appreciative nods when he uses his palm to rub your clit. He gives you sighing pecks on your face and neck as you clench and writhe in his arms.

Tim loves fucking you in every position possible, but he won't deny he loves the view when you're riding him reverse cowgirl. The bounce of your ass slapping against his stomach has him nearly drooling, his fingertips gripping your waist to grind you harder on his throbbing cock.

"Such a good bunny."

"Show me what you learned, baby."

"Use your words."

You undo him in every way, Tim loves seeing how delicate and meek you get when you're feeling good. He gives you deep, determined thrusts that have your body rippling from the impact, just so he can listen to you mewl and watch you shudder.

The bulging head of his cock swipes over your sweet spots over and over, leaving both of you a breathless, blissful trance. That's when his instincts take over his body and Tim's not even in control of how relentlessly he fucks you anymore.

"Just like that."

"Fuck yes."

"God, I love fucking you."

Tim has to finish inside you. It gets him off so hard to think about your womb full of his seed and him being your baby daddy. Can Tim realistically father a child? Fuck no. Does the thrill of danger make him lose all rationale and drive him over the edge? Well...

Then, Tim lets out a long, throaty grunt, cock pulsating inside you as he empties his hot, sticky load inside your beaten, aching pussy.

"I'm so close, gonna drain my cock inside you."

"You ready to take it?"

"Gonna give you little bunnies of your own."

While your body is still sprawled over the sheets, naked, sore, and heaving, he takes a few recharging breaths before getting back on his feet.

He'll get dressed swiftly, leaving the team to return with a glass of water, a towel, and a set of clean pajamas. Tim's hand finds the underside of your chin as you stack yourself back up slowly, pulling your face up to give you a covetous kiss.

"Tell me you love me, that's right."

🜏[regards... dedicated to my proxy twin and tim's lover @purrsonline, check out their blog or else. im no stickler about mischaracterization but i loveee canon tim so i tried to be faithful to mh tim with my creative takes.]

🜏[ruin's masterlist]

you blink rapidly a few times and turn your head from his waistline, a poor attempt to not arouse suspicion.

he notices. he doesn't say anything.

instead, your eyes assess the room. the leather couch you're sharing is beaten soft and has cracks exposing the fluffy contents.

the wallpaper is faded and peeling in the corners, cobwebs and dust bunnies gathered in various spots on the floor or the ceiling.

it smells like faintly like mildew and bleach all at once, and the windows are cracked wide open to invite the cold, evening wind to blow all around the room.

you shiver, instinctively curling into the body next to yours. the hoodie is insulating his body heat and you leaned in, giving his shoulder a small huff.

freshly washed. a calculated move.

he's the once source of warmth and softness you can feel as the crisp air pricks goosebumps over you.

before you can register your actions- an order from your throat, but it feels like it came from a place lower, deeper inside you.

"take your hoodie off." your voice comes out more stern than you intended.

brian's brows force wrinkles into his forehead, the corner of his lips curl slightly into his cheek, and his eyes are wide and gleefully stunned.

his taken aback expression only casts over his face momentarily, before his eyes darken again while he scans you from head to toe.

"here i was thinking you were the one who just wanted to hang out..."

brian's gaze finds yours again, tauntingly he fumbles with the trim of his hood with his thumb.

his twisted, knowing grin makes your heart sink.

"don't play dumb. guys on dating apps are never sincere. i'm just cold, brian."

his eyes shift around to the open windows before settling back on your exposed legs and arms.

"if i shut those windows, do i get to keep my hoodie?" he teases.

your gut tremors at how his tooth gap peeks through his smirks and when he swipes his fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

you open your mouth, but you haven't landed on a response. brian just chuckles softly, straightening up in his seat.

his fingers find the back of his hood and he pulls it whole over his shoulders, unveiling the bare skin underneath.

"thanks-" you start to reach for the hoodie, but brian tugs it back toward his chest to deny you. he clicks his tongue while shaking his head.

"tsk tsk tsk... if i let you wear my hoodie, it has to be the only thing you're wearing, babe."

be for fucking real. you roll your eyes, arms now folded over one another, clutching your own warmth now that brian has withdrawn.

"ugh... you're such a pervert." you shoot, but he's absorbs the blow.

his voice is calm, assured. "you'll do it for me."

hot embarrassment singed your skin, you feel blood flushing your cheeks and over your chest. once again, your mouth opens to challenge him, but the words get lost in your throat.

brian fills the silence. "i know why you came over. you've been eyeing me since you got here, hon."

he sinks back into the couch, holding his scrunched up hoodie in one hand and resting the free one on his thigh. his posture is lazy, cocky.

"you like me, so you'll listen to me, won't you?"

you dart your eyes away from his and instead, brian's naked torso snatches your attention.

his neck tapers perfectly into the curves of his broad shoulders. the smooth muscles of his chest and padded belly speckled with scars and thin patches of blonde hair.

it captivates you briefly, your thighs press against each other to manage the heat sprouting low in your core. then, you break.

damn your pride. you want it as much as he does.

"okay... i- i want your hoodie." your voice comes out a soft croak this time, as you pull your shirt over your head. your tits fall free, your skin all blushed pink.

"see? that wasn't so hard. you fold so easily, babe."

brian watches as you kick off your shorts and panties, immediately bringing your knees to your chest after feeling the shock of enveloping cold.

he smirks evilly at your trembling body, humming when you scrunch your nose at him with disdain.

finally, brian's hand unravels the fabric and wedges the neckline over your head.

you sigh with relief as the hoodie falls over your poor body that's been aching for comfort. it's big, heavy, and the inside is coated with the scent of him.

after a beat of peace, you feel a set of prying fingers coil around your ankle, pulling your leg out from the inside of the hoodie.

you look up at brian, who's shifting his body on top of you, flattening your leg against the couch's cushion under you.

you know what's coming next and your heart throbs against your ribcage at the anticipation.

brian traces his fingers up your thigh, pressing his palm into your hip just under the hem of his hoodie. his touch nips at your skin with something electric.

he finally spoke. "hm... now i'm feelin' a bit cold, babe. you'll help me out, right?" his hungry eyes bore into yours.

brian has a dangerous glint in his eye, one that should've raised concern. but instead, the expression made your heart twist with heat, a recognizable ache.

you were breathless and undone, suffocated by a desire too strong to resist.

so you nodded.

brian hinges his neck to lock his mouth on yours. his kiss is heavy, needy, lips pressed tightly against yours. he nearly smashes his face into yours with how greedy he is.

his tongue slips between your lips to trace the inside of your mouth, probing deeper into your throat, making you gag softly.

brian's hand creeps between your thighs to feel your naked, already soaked pussy. he snickers against your mouth when you gasp at his invasive touch.

"fuck, you're this wet for me? i really need to give it to you, then, huh?"

your eyes are squeezed shut as he drags his fingers in your folds, spreading your wetness to your clit. the sensation knocks the wind out of your lungs.

"look at me and watch." brian orders. you obey, prying your eyes open to his sickly satisfied face. he pulls his fingers away from you to find his belt buckle.

brian's pants hit the floor, his hard shaft poking out of the center of his hips. you swallow hard at the saliva welling up in your mouth.

he lays you on your back, throwing your knee over his shoulder as he lines himself up at your entrance.

both of you let out deep, breathy moans as his tip stretches the ring of your cunt. your body writhes as he thrusts deeper, his hard cock pushing against your walls.

you clutch the back of his neck, fingers ruffling his hair as he slides himself in and out, wet squelches coming off his movements.

whimpers escape your lips and deep grunts come from him as he fucks you into the cushions, the weight of his body held up just enough not to crush you completely.

his throbbing cock makes your insides feel so full of him and so beaten raw, but you're clenching him for more.

your hips lift up to meet him, the angle allowing him even deeper. brian growls in response to your eagerness, gripping your waist to rock you harder, rougher onto him.

brian's thighs smack obscenely against your ass as he spreads your legs wider, lifting them higher and nearly folding you.

drool pools in your jaw as he pounds your insides, his tip rubbing your sweet spots with brutal pressure. hot tension swells in your gut, building up and burning you inside out.

you can't do anything but moan and squirm under him as he fucks you stupid, your nails digging into his back and biceps to mitigate the overwhelming pleasure.

he grunts with each devastating thrust, muttering curses and growling softly.

"holy shit, your pussy feels too good. fuck..."

then, brian's hand finds your throat, pressing his fingers into your soft skin, holding you in place. his firm grip sends a rush of numbness to your head.

you let out a whiny moan in response and the lewd sound rings in brian's ears.

his pace starts to falter, hips ramming into you desperately, cock twitching against your walls. he's fucking you wide open into a hot, slippery, whimpering mess and it's all too much for you to handle.

the drag of his solid length inside you, the blissful pressure of his fingers around your neck. his heaving grunts and the faint smell of his sweat.

"bri... mmh- you're gonna make me cum- ah!" you choked out the words just before your reach your breaking point.

your cunt squeezes brian's cock, forming to its shape and its grooves. pulses of white hot pleasure ripple through your body as he fucks you through your orgasm, thighs shaking violently against his hips.

"goddamn baby... fuck- i'm gonna cum..."

that's enough to tip brian off the edge with you and he lets out a long, throaty groan as he releases thick spurts of his seed inside your ruined pussy.

his hand remains clutched around your throat for a few moments while your bodies come down from the high. he shoots you a cruel grin, wedging himself deeper inside, making the juices squelch and spill out of you.

you moan and make a pouty face at him, which he resolves by planting a firm peck on your lips. "don't be like that, you loved it." he teases.

and he couldn't be more right.

"my hoodie looks awesome on you, actually. borrow it."

now, when you open your closet door and spot the yellow hood on the rack, the memories come flooding back, pressure and warmth comes flooding back to your core.

it replays in your mind, the biting cold, a depraved killer fucking you sensless in his hoodie.

brian's muddy brown eyes, defined jaw and cheekbones, and the rough brush of his mustache on your lips when he kisses you.

his cockiness, the faint smell of bleach on his skin, how maddening his touch is, and how relentlessly he pounded you into that couch.

you're haunted by his fuck every time you put it on- it's probably your new favorite hoodie.

🜏 [ruin's masterlist] 🜏 [if i cannot inspire love, i will cause fear

In addition to his signature mask, goggles, and gloves, he normally wears some loosely fit jeans, a high collared shirt, and his striped hoodie. Toby has this one fur-trimmed windbreaker that you love to see him in, though. He wears it on late-night hiking dates in the slenderwoods. 

“Isn’t it a p-pretty night, b-baby?” 

He likes to look at the stars, they remind him of you. Toby loves the forest, he feels at home among the trees and wild fauna, but most of all, with you. He loves to take you out just to make out with you under the night sky. 

Sometimes Toby’s like a stray animal you befriended, always nuzzling your head, arms, legs, and stomach. He likes to gift you things he finds hanging out in the forest. He’ll even climb tall trees to retrieve high-hanging fruit, flowers, or otherwise.

“Stay here, I’ll be ba-back.” 

“D-do you like it, m-my love?” 

Toby just likes to show off, but you love it so you indulge him. You like to watch him carefully find his grip and his footing, his athleticism is so sexy to you. Not to mention his shirt always rides up to highlight his abs and happy trail. 

The killer can be reckless, though, considering his lack of pain response. Sometimes you worry for him badly, but he always holds your face and kisses you over and over to reassure you. He gets injured and ends up being the one to comfort you because you’re upset that he’s hurt. 

“I’m always s-safe out th-there, baby.” 

“It doesn't b-bo-bother me, t-trust me.” 

At the mansion, Toby looks really hot when he opts for a tank top that displays his toned arms, covered in scars and gashes. Without his goggles, you really appreciate how sexy his dark eyes are and his little chin stubble. 

If there’s no mission calls, you guys play a lot of games in Toby’s room. He’s better than you at video games, but you’re better than him at board games and cards.

Regardless of the game, he’s a true rage-quitter. Especially if you guys end up making it a drinking game.

“So f-fu-fucking pissed.” 

“I’m g-go-gonna lose my sh-shit.”

Toby can get insecure. He knows how polarizing he can be, the brutality he’s capable of. Might even compare himself to Jeff in terms of charisma and to Ben in terms of intellect. He envies the Jacks’ eldritch power. 

“I'm r-repulsive, huh?” 

But he’s just perfect to you. 

Toby is a big cuddler - and takes any chance he can to breathe in the scent of your skin. He’ll grab you and throw you down onto his bed with him, holding you to him, his body heat soothing and comforting you. You love to run your fingers through his thick, fluffy locks and his toothy smile makes your heart jump. 

“I can’t b-be-believe you're real, an a-actual angel.” 

Toby kisses you desperately, like he’s afraid you’ll fade away when it’s over. He gets paranoid you’re a hallucination, too good to be true. But when you throw your arms over his shoulders, he’s reassured you’re just his guardian angel on Earth. 

“So f-fu-fucking happy with you.” 

“L-let me hear you, I love it so m-much.”

Toby’s favorite thing about fingering you is hearing your moans and whimpers. The killer will lean in close to listen to your breath hitch as he strokes your clit. He chuckles satisfiedly at the wet sound you make as his fingers pump in and out of your entrance. 

“Holy sh-shit, baby, you feel s-so amazing.” 

“T-talk to me, my love, feeling g-good?” 

Missionary is the go to, he loves looking at you and kissing you while he’s inside. His fuck is even more desperate than his kiss. Toby delivers you fast, punishing thrusts that leave your pussy all hot and raw, thighs clenching on him.

“Can I t-try s-so-omething on you, baby?” 

“You look so g-go-gorgeous like this” 

There was a time that you started coaxing him while he was bandaging up his wounds. Toby looked at the roll of bandages and got the idea to tie your wrists to the bedframe.

Ever since then, he can’t get enough of the sounds you make when you’re helplessly strung up, arms over your head, just taking the pounding he gives you. 

Toby is soft swearer during sex. The faces he makes are so cute, those half-lidded eyes, furrowed brows, and little lip bites. When he’s ready to cum, he lets out small whines that make your cunt melt around him. 

“F-fu-fuck.”

“Sh-shit, feels so good.” 

“D-damn it, I’m so close.” 

Toby collapses on top of you after he finishes, but while smothering you with more sweaty nuzzles and kisses, he manages to free your bound hands to let you hold him back. Then, comes the best nap you’ve ever taken.

“I love you s-so m-much, my angel.”

Jack wears his mask along with a beanie, a pullover hoodie and cargo pants almost exclusively. He feels comfortable in that ensemble around the mansion or elsewhere.

In the lab, you love to see him shed his beanie, hoodie and mask to free his dark, fluffy hair and stone-carved chest and arms.

He doesn't want to get his casual clothes too bloodied, so he'll throw on just a butcher's apron while he harvests.

It's your favorite thing to see him in, just his pants and apron, while he works expertly with a scalpel in hand. You appreciate his lean muscles and fine motor skills.

The lab is kept cold for preservation purposes. So, you keep plenty of blankets and plushies to keep you comfortable. At first, you would get sick relentlessly, but over time your body adjusted to it.

The cold doesn't bother Jack so much, but he would never complain over an excuse to hold you. In fact, he doesn't feel much discomfort from temperature or pain at all. It's there, but he has immense tolerance.

The worst feeling for him is hunger.

"I got you."

"There you go, sweetie."

On missions, Jack's attention remains on objective while holding you on his arm. You honestly think he looks so sexy when he's so focused, and you swoon when he easily guides you through uneven footing or tricky bends in the forest.

His heightened senses allows his attention to span between analyzing and navigating while keeping you safe and close.

"Let me look at it."

"Does it hurt bad, sweetheart?"

When you get injuries, he's very quick at examining you. After determining that you're okay, he can't help himself. You look so cute blushing and trembling.

"I could just eat you up."

"Just a lick? You can say no, but you smell so fucking tasty."

You never deny him. You love the sting of his firm tongue against your torn skin. Jack just gets a taste of your blood before dressing the wound, the constant exposure helps him have control.

But you always taste so delicious to him. Even if he didn't love you, he couldn't ever kill you and waste the perfect little snack.

"Thanks, my love."

He'll always kiss the wound after, and makes sure you have water, painkillers, and whatever else you need.

Jack is effortlessly chill most of the time. Mostly cause he doesn't care so much. But, when something does bother him, he'll be in his own head like crazy.

He'll get all heated but try hide it. You can't help but tease because seeing him get worked up is pretty hot.

"You're the worst."

The demon has a short fuse but normally maintains composure well. Your rage bait works on him quickly, but he also gets over it quickly.

"Just kidding, you're the best."

Jack's laugh is a deep, resonant chuckle. When he's really fucking laughing, it'll morph into a sort of howl with the widest, fangy smile that turns you on so much.

"Goddamn, you're perfect."

"I love you so much, you're fucking mine."

"I'm gonna have a piece of you now."

Jack loves eating you out, no surprises there. He can't get enough of your soft, moist skin, your smell, and your juices. He's really good at working his tongue, trying to get a taste of every inch of your sweet parts.

"You taste so yummy, baby. I need more."

His favorite way to fuck you is from behind, so he can bite your neck and shoulders while using your hips to rock you onto him.

"I can't stop, you feel so fucking good, baby."

"You're so fucking tasty it's driving me nuts."

Your scent is maddening to him, sometimes he'll go too far in drawing blood with his sharp fangs. He mumbles his sorries but he knows full well the pain gives you a rush.

"You're all mine, got it?"

"Fuck, I love having you like this."

Jack likes to pound you at a leisurely pace, burying each thrust deep inside you. He holds you possessively, mouthing you all over. His claws grip your flesh so hard, but you like to see the scratches he leaves behind.

"I'm gonna lose it, baby, you feel too fucking good."

"Fuck, I'm almost there, kiss me."

He has to finish while kissing you or biting down on you, he needs the oral fixation while he pumps you full of his cum.

After the damage is done, Jack makes sure to nurse any wounds and clean you up. The demon then wraps his arms around you, cuddling you tight while you both drift to sleep, smiling.

"Damn it, I'm in love with you."

[my EJ doodle based on this post]