Five Ticks 'Til I'm Yours (Dark Ticci Toby x Reader)

22

"Why the long face doll?"

You tried to hide the discomfort on your face as you forced a polite smile and sunk back into the ratty couch. The man was sitting beside you in a second, his arm hovering around your shoulders.

"Oh, I'm not, um," how do you put this politely? "For... sale?"

He made a face, slightly confused before he laughed it off, "that's cute, tell you what, I'll play along."

You shifted away from his reach, your gaze wandering to where Toby stood by the reception desk. He was looking back at you, well aware of the stranger's advances but making no move to help you. Instead, he turned his attention back to the man at the desk, continuing whatever negotiating they were doing.

What a jerk.

If anyone should be angry, it should be you.

"Hey, don't ya go judging me!" the man was still talking, "I know I ain't dressed like much, but I can afford it. Trust me, I wouldn't lie to ya. How much we talkin'? Hundred? Two? Three?"

"I'm not trying to insult you or anything," you assured him. "I'm just really not a... I'm not a..."

"A hooker? There's no shame in it."

You decided right then to get to your feet, moving away from the man and towards the reception desk. Other than the desk, there were ratty couches and cushions all surrounding a single, box-shaped television. The brown paint was peeling from the walls and a rustic looking bar stood from across the receptionist desk. The motel was seedy and sketchy in every sense, shape, and form. It was on the outskirts of the city and in no way your first choice. But it wasn't your choice, it wasn't Toby's either.

The television headlines read 'Midnight Slasher at large'. A blonde news anchor was talking but the television's volume was turned down. It didn't matter though, you already knew what was happening. Toby had stopped the car when the two of you noticed the police checkpoint up ahead. It turned out Jeff, or as he's known to the Canadian public, the 'Midnight Slasher' had murdered three people in the past hour. Hence the police were crawling around everywhere.

Toby was going to risk the checkpoint but then he noticed the feds. You had spent a good ten minutes in the car while he debated the checkpoint.

And now, here you were.

The man at the desk finally handed Toby a key, not even sparing you a glance before turning to his next customers. The motel was rather crowded actually, mostly by couples, women in tight shorts and low-cut tank-tops, men with money dripping off their tongues. Despite your anger, you stuck close to Toby as he pressed the elevators button. You could see it on his face, he didn't want to be here either. But this was the closest motel for miles, besides, it wasn't safe for Toby to stay on the streets with all those cops around.

You had considered all the ways you could get the polices attention, all the ways you could get Toby caught. But you were too smart for that now, it never worked out, it never would.

And now here you were, in room 307 with a serial killer pacing about. It was well-furnished, the centerpiece being the decent queen-sized bed that you now sat on. Sitting across from the bed was another television set, one that Toby turned on before dropping down beside you. You immediately turned your face away, pretty sure he had rolled his eyes before focusing on the television screen.

"Federal agents have just arrived on the scene," the anchorwoman was talking. "Canadians are asked to fully co-operate with American law enforcement. The Midnight Slasher, AKA Jeffery Woods has been on the F.B.I's most wanted list for the past five years. If spotted, do not approach, call authorities immediately. The suspect was last spotted in Everglade Woods, residents are recommended to-