Ticcimask oneshots!

Abusive (A/F/S)

All of these are practically becoming smut now XD.

I flinch.

"I-I'm sorry-" I whimper. Toby growls.

(HA! PLOT TWIST!)

"Shut t-the fuck up." He snaps. I shut my eyes tightly. What happened to the sweet Toby I loved..? I wanted him back again...

My back, neck, and ribs hurt from where Toby had either kicked or stepped on me. And both were on purpose.

I stare up at my boyfriend with pure fear in my eyes. He had started acting like his father..

Because he became abusive after he started drinking.

It used to only be a few shots.

But now it was a whole bottle.

Suddenly I felt pulled up. The taller brunette glares at me. (Toby's taller in this one) I don't fight back. Instead, tears were in the corner of my eyes. Toby notices and scoffs.

"Pathetic as usual." I'm thrown to the ground, my back hitting the coffee table. I hiss in pain.

Yeah, big fucking mistake. Toby tics then walks over to me.

"Didn't I t-tell you to shut up?!" I curl into a ball. He grabs the back of my jacket he had bought me one day, lifting me up as if I weighed nothing.

Which was pretty much true.

"T-Toby, I'm s-s-sorry-" He drops me. I back up. He looks at me with disgust clear in his eyes. I finally let the tears fall, whimpering and sobbing. Toby stood there, a somewhat sickening satisfied look in his eye. When I had calmed down slightly, I look at Toby. He walks over.

For hours and hours he tossed me around as if I were some sort of ragdoll. I hated it. By now, some things were caked in blood.

"Get this god damn mess cleaned up.." He hisses. I nod.

"O-Okay.." I whisper. Toby leaves, walking up the stairs into our shared room and slamming the door. I started to sob silently.

"W-Wh-hy? Why ca-an't I have my o-old Toby back?" I question nobody. Once I calmed down, I started cleaning up the mess. I quietly walk upstairs, opening the bedroom door. I silently enter, the door thankfully not creaking or groaning. I walk in the room, grabbing some clothes. I quickly exit once more, walking to the bathroom farthest from Toby and I's shared bedroom. I enter quietly, turning the light on and shutting the door softly. I look at the mirror. My dark chocolate brown eyes were void of any emotion, my hair was ruffled and my clothes were torn and bloody. I slip off my jacket. It was covered in blood.

"Damn... It was my favorite jacket too..." I set it down and undress completely. I turn on the shower and step in, grabbing a certain small blade. The warm water hit my skin, making me relax a bit. I ran my hand through my hair. I look at the bloodied razor blade in my other hand. I look at the other cuts on my arm. I bit my lip, lowering the blade to my skin. It leaves a stinging sensation that I've grown used to. After all, I did have 50 cuts on my arm.

I slide the blade across, making the warm, red liquid slide down my arm. I gave my arm another cut.

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