#toxiccccc

[florestmoon]

Eye For An Eye (Ghostface x Reader x Frank Morison)

Summary: When the dull town of Ormond springs to life after a string of murders— you and Frank find yourselves in the eyes of The Ghostface and the darkness that hides behind the mask that’s ready to corrupt you.

Warnings: this story is going to contain a lot violence , stalking, possessive behavior, blood, murder and much more. It’s heavy with unhealthy relationships sooo plsss read with caution !!

Notes: hiiii besties , I started this story three years ago. Frank and Ghostface are my faves in dbd so yes, I decided to create a story including both !! I posted two chapters before then disappeared. So I’m back and rewriting those chapters and heavily motivated! Hope you enjoy (((: mwah

Seasons don’t fear the reaper.

Open spaces between the branches and leafs that hung off the looming trees allowed for the blaring sun to peak its way through. It’s light falling victim to being blocked out by the faded red baseball cap that sat on top of your head.

Your head swayed slightly as your movements matched it smoothly down the empty road in a zig zag motion. Both arms raised by your sides, your fingers stretched reaching for nothing but everything at the same time. The sound of your rolling skates were filtered out by the headset that was placed over your hat.

The road seemed to go on forever. The endless trees that decorated the side of the deserted road giving an illusion of it being longer than it actually is. Part of you wished for there to be a whole different outcome at the end of it, but as part of your contract to this life you were dealt with— your wishes rarely came true.

You closed yours eyes for a few seconds before opening them again to relieve a sigh. The feeling of the wind hitting your face gave some relief from the humid air that’s been surrounding the town of Ormond for the month of August. As much as you loved the sun—it's presence giving you energy that’s hard to come by in your life, you couldn’t wait for the transition of weathers by the next week.

As Ormond rolls into another September, the summer’s heat will come into an end and you’ll finally enjoy the coldness that tags along with fall and winter.

Not only could you wear turtle necks without being questions by others at school who really are just too nosy for their own good; but you can finally see everything be covered in snow. A change of scenery will help the otherwise dull town.

The thought encouraged you to go a little faster, putting more pressure on your legs as they pushed you forward. Despite the rough feeling of the cracks on the road, you had no fear of falling. After the whole of rolling skating to spend most of the afternoons away, you grown comfortable and confident in your abilities to skate.

The beats of the song only made you push faster.

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain

There wasn’t time to notice the car making its way down the road behind you before it’s loud honking caused a falter in your moment, skates rolling to a halt. You moved towards the side of the road , closer to the woods as you wobbled slightly to regain your balance.

You can prevent yourself from falling off your skates but not from getting hit by a car apparently.

A familiar voice scolding you at the back of your mind for your carelessness plagued your thoughts as you expected for the driver to pass you. Frank’s irritated face bringing an amused smile.

Hours could go by and not a single soul would drive this road, so you half expected the sheriffs own car to drive pass you. You waited to hear a small comment about you being more careful for the 10th time this summer. It was a surprise when you saw in the corner of your eye a different vehicle slowing to a halt.

You should have began to skate faster, you weren’t naive to the perverts that littered your town. You couldnt count the amount of times you catched middle age men watch you skate. But a small glance at the car had you pausing. The model catching your attention.

Hm. Impressive.

You werent an expert in cars but you could tell it was a vintage one, probably costing more than whatever the hell your foster parents were obtaining in the year of having you under their care. It definitely looked different from what you see in Ormond.

We can be like they are.

Admiring the black paint shining at you, reflection staring back at you , the window finally rolled down revealing a single passenger.

“Ah, sorry to scare you like that” The man leaned out the window slightly, awkwardly placing his arm on top of the rolled down glass. “ Didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

The headphones were removed from your ears, placed around your neck as you look at the stranger before you. Music blaring loud enough for you to make out the singer’s voice.

Red locks hanging over his forehead, tipping against glasses that framed his eyes as he squinted up at you through them, a friendly smile playing on his lips. Sinister intend hidden so well that you relaxed under the kind gaze.

Come on baby. (Don’t fear the reaper)

“Sorry mister, usually I pay more attention when I skate on this road.”

He nodded, watching you fiddle with the headset and tilt your head at him. He seemed amused with how you addressed him. Years of dealing with adults who liked to abuse their authority over you taught you a few things. Addressing them in a way that makes them feel better about themselves helped In terms of surviving and making them drop their guards.

It makes them trust you.

Although the red head didn’t look that much older, maybe still in his early twenties. You continued to take his appearance from what you were given. Green plaid shirt peeking out from a blue jacket. You noticed the pen that was perfectly placed behind his ear, nearly hidden by the strands of red hair that fell over it. He must be a writer of some sort.

The thought finally made you realize that he was an unfamiliar face. In a town like Ormond, it was uncommon for you to meet anyone new.

“You visiting someone here mister ?”

“Ah” The man flashed another soft smile before holding out a pocket notebook out. “I'm actually here to report some news for my newspaper.”

So you were right.You stood up straighter, satisfied with the knowledge that you read him right.

“Oh cool!” You glanced at the notebook and hummed. “But not much happens here so you probably won’t report much.”

“Im guessing you haven’t heard what’s been happening in the other towns then.”

Your fingers twitches against your thigh as you shook your head. You willed yourself to never look into the news from anything outside of Ormond. Afraid of what you were to find.

“I guess it wasn't that interesting enough to reach all over here.” You reply, shrugging. It sounded a bit rude, but you were beginning to itch all over.

“Oh, it will eventually.”

Raising an eyebrow at that, you crossed your arms and looked down the road. The sun was finally starting to descend behind the trees concluding that it was time for you to head home. If you left now now , you’ll be able to make it home before your foster dad made it home.

The thought alone bringing some tensions to your temple.

“Do you need directions towards a motel? There’s one just a few minutes down this road, pretty much the first thing you’ll see out of these trees.”

“Thanks.” He looks down the road, he fixes his glasses and looks at you again. “Do you need a ride ?”

You thought about it. It would be nice to hitch a ride in the nice car. And he seemed nice enough, with the way he looked at you with no pressure,giving you the option.

So you decided against it. With a shake in your head, you gesture towards your skates.

“I trust these bad boys to get me home.” You joke, tapping the back wheel on the pavement. The male nodding as he leaned back into his car.

“Lets hope so. You don’t want to be out after it gets dark.”

You blink at the warning, watching him give you one last smile before he drove off. There was nothing but drunk assholes to worry about in the nights of Ormond. It was just another dull town that wasn’t going to add nothing to whatever story he was hoping to find.

Baby take my hand. Don’t fear the reaper.

~

“Bye Mr. Richards!” You yell as you exit the small convenience store. The older man grumbles something along the lines of being careful, knowing that the only thing you're focused on is the bag of m&ms you managed to get for free.

You slowed down while opening the small bag, pouring a few on your palm before tossing it back in your mouth.

The sky was starting to darken, going from a bright blue to almost a purple hue behind the few clouds. You took note of the time on the clock behind the store counter when you pretended to Mr. Richards you had forgotten your change. 5:45 pm. There was still time before your old man got home.

Skating lazily past many stores, some signs already had flipped over to CLOSED, you were about cross the street to your neighborhood block when you noticed a familiar red truck.

Frank pulled up to the stop sign, his eyes notcatching yours yet. His tattooed hand tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. The vibration of the music that you’ve grown used to dealing with could almost be be felt through his rolled up window. His other arm was propped up on the car door, head tilt slighting as though lost in thought.

You had a small thought of getting his attention, but seeing a blonde sitting in passenger seat had his name getting caught in your throat. She immediately saw you, an amused smile that looked mocking growing on her face. A flush disturbing your body when she says something which makes Frank look towards you. The idea of him taking your appearance embarrassing you suddenly.

Your denim shorts and purple and black stripped top, along with the high knee socks that went with your red roller skates all of sudden made you feel—small. There was never this type of shame when it came to Frank, you both seen each other at your worst. He seen you with your acne ridden face and you seen him with his choppy haircuts he tried giving himself in the orphanage bathroom.

You loved your outfit, you did. You picked it out yourself for once when you picked up a few bucks from walking the neighbors dog last summer. It was thrifted but still felt brand new. But seeing Julie with her leather jackets and combat boots that went along with her more punk and dark aesthetic always made you feel lesser in a way. Especially since Frank clearly liked it because well— he was dating her. He liked his whole group of new friends that followed the same life style. He liked them so much that he wasn’t hanging with you as much. The blame isn’t entirely on him, you rejected his many proposals of you joining the group. You just weren’t like them.

You can’t be like them. You won’t be like them.

Frank doesn’t copy Julies own amused look, instead he throws you a soft smile. One that you awkwardly give back. His soft gaze is interrupted by Julie saying something to catch his attention. Frank’s jaws harden as his eyes drift away from yours and snaps at the blondes directions. You look away and finish skating across the street before you can try to piece together what was said.

The flush doesn’t leave your body the entire way home. Only when you throw your skates to the side in the garage and head up the two steps to the entrance that leads to the kitchen, you let yourself have a deep breathe. The bag of m&ms lay abandoned on the counter while you grab a glass of water.

You missed Frank. Sure, you both hung out a handful of times this summer but it wasn’t like the years before. You cherished those times, even the few times he called this summer and finally asked to hang, just the two of you. Those moments gave you hope despite the new distance. Even now, your eyes glancing towards the telephone that hung on the kitchen wall. You idled in the kitchen for a few minutes, nursing the glass of water as you continued to take sips from it.

The sound of a car pulling into the garage finally has you snap out of your thoughts. You looked down at the empty glass and sighed. No excuse now. You reluctantly placed it in the sink before retreating to your room. Ignoring your foster dad’s heavy footsteps entering the house before you closed your bedroom door. You could only listen as he moved around the house. The bag of m&ms being a victim to his sticky hands. He finally makes his way to his bedroom and slamming it shut.

This part of the day was something you dreaded. The silence that filled the home. The natural light that escapes your room when the sun finally disappears, leaving you with only the street lamps to flash an orange glow onto your walls. You hated the darkness, no time being wasted for you to turn on the lamp near your desk. The sudden brightness comforting as you lay back down.

Before you could let yourself be swallowed by your thoughts again, a sudden shrill breaks through the walls of your room.

The phone.

It continues to ring when you make it out your room in a hurry, hoping Frank doesn’t give up so soon. It’s shameful the way you snatch the phone off the wall.

“Hello?” You say breathily, flinching at how you sound. You clear your throat as you wait to hear a voice on the other side. But nothing comes. Silence.

“Um..hello?” You repeat.

Nothing.

You listen, catching of what sounds like someone breathing. It was faint, just enough to tell you that someone was on the other line. God please don’t let this be some pervert, You heard weird stories about men getting off at just hearing a girls voice on the phone.

Or maybe it was Frank messing with you. The phone is pulled from your ear and you debate hanging up but you try one more time.

“Helloooo?” You say , letting out a half laugh from your nerves. “Can you hear me? Frank, is that you?”

Still just…silence. You’re about to speak again but it clicks. They hung up. You look at the phone hesitantly place it back on the wall. The moment it’s back , the phone rings again.

“Hello.” You answer again, a bit more forceful and expecting for them to continue to just listen to you talk and hang up again but you’re met with someone clicking their tongue.

“Well hello to you too sweets.”

Franks voice registers in your mind and your shoulders relax.

“Oh..hi Frank” You sigh in relief. “Jesus were you not able to hear me before?”

“What do you mean?” He says coolly, you could hear him moving, his bed springs creaking under his weight.

“When you called before— I kept repeating myself and all I heard was you breathing like a creep.” You huff. The coily wire from the phone was wrapped around your finger.

“Wasn’t me. I called you just right now.” He replies puzzlingly, he sounds concern and you frown at the realization. He waits before chuckling. “Damn, don’t tell me you’re giving some creep his fill for the night.”

“Gross” Your hand motions with the wire stop and you make a face at that. “What if Steve answered?”

The thought of your foster dad has Frank letting out another chuckle. “I’m sure the bastard would’ve loved that even more.”

“Frank!” You half whisper, looking into the hallway hoping the bedroom door doesn’t open. A giggle still escapes as much as you try to hold it back.

You don’t know it, but Frank smiles at the sound. A comfortable silence fill the phone for a moment, before he breaks it.

“Go down the same route today?”

You looked at down at your socks, rolling one of your sore ankles.

“Yup. Down the road away from Ormond and back.” You answer. “Went a bit past that run down water tower before heading back.”

“That’s far.”

“I wish I could go farther.”

Frank hums at that. A mutual feeling between you both.

“Did that old pig catch up to you?”

“Sheriff McCall? No but some tourist—well not really a tourist—a journalist did.” You ramble, glancing out the window. “I didn’t even hear him drive up behind me before his honking made me almost eat pavement ! I’m sure McCall would be happy to tell me that he told me so.”

“A journalist?” Frank scoffs.

“Yeah, he stopped to apologize and I noticed he definitely wasn’t from here. He had a pretty cool car by the way—oh and I asked and he said that he was doing some type of news report here.”

“Probably to warn people from ever entering this shit hole.” He concludes. “Why else would the fucker be here.”

You snort. It was satisfying knowing Frank had the same thought that you had.

You contemplated on telling him what else the journalist said about the other towns but he stops you suddenly. His voice is hesitant, as though he’s revealing something. A topic that was sensitive enough to steer the conversation in a way that neither of you were prepared to fully deal with.

“You could have..you know, called and ask me to tag along.”

You swallow hard and half shrugging, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. Julie in his passenger seat coming to mind. “ You seemed busy anyway.”

You wanted to return the sudden list of questions he was presenting to you tonight and ask what he and Julie did to spend their time on the last week leading up the new school year.

Did they drive around town, visiting spots that every couple tend to hang out at? The diner or the park where everyone parks to smoke cigarettes or weed. Did they spend the afternoon by themselves or did the rest of the group join them. Did they go to the ormond resort that he always disappears to nowadays?

You hated the idea of any it. The image of Frank having Julie by his side— his friends company that apparently was better than yours while you skated alone. You kept the questions to yourself, rather not knowing.

“I would have bailed” He finally answers. His voice tensed.

“Right.”

You knew he wouldn’t have. He should have known that statement before was going to ruin the whole conversation.

Things got quiet again. Why was it always too quiet between you two now? What was the shift in the last year that you seemed to ignore? You could rack your brain for hours and you couldn’t pinpoint a moment.

Could he?

Frank seemed to have made up his mind on what to say but you already had cut him off before you could notice it.

“I should go. Mary will be coming home soon and would want me to start helping with dinner.”

Frank is silent for a beat too long and you decide to make it easier on him. Not knowing that his own heart broke the same way yours was.

“Goodnight Frank.”

You faintly heard his voice a second before you hung up.

“Goodnight.”

[sickbutsocial]

advanced stages of decay: dates and speed and toxic fuckboys imperceptibly destroying my life

10/08/2018 - 03/10/2019

[beckyblah]

Drink the red from your pretty pink face !

[wttcsms]

very complicated and messy figure skating duo au but with WHO. im talking complicated and messy in the sense that during a practice, you two are upset with each other and you’re both so angry and neither of you can concentrate and he accidentally drops you and you have to be sent to the hospital. he feels so awful but he refuses to contact you afterwards + all your anger towards him has dissipated almost immediately but now you feel bitter that he got you into this mess and doesn’t even have the decency to send generic apology flowers or even a text. (everyone kept suggesting that he find a new partner to skate with but he vehemently refused & even stormed out the arena when presented with another girl to skate with. if you never returned back to his side, he would have quit skating. meanwhile, the whole time you were in the hospital recovering, you knew him well enough to understand why he didn’t contact you. you don’t blame him for your hospitalization at all.)

[reality-shitting]

When shifters like my husband: Oh cool!! We can gossip about how much we love him!!! 🥰🥰

When Non-shifters like my husband:

me when another shifter has the same dr s/o as me: ☺️

me when a non-shifter likes my dr s/o:

[bluecrusadearcade]

I need to fix my sleep schedule

[enka-antix]

Toxiccccc

[ihaterossfromfriends]

@thecookedprawn

them again.

[stottlemorgan]

Low Honour Arthur Morgan NSFW Headcanons (Female Reader)

Author's note: Much like my Mid Honour NSFW Headcanons for Arthur, these are for me to flesh out his character in my head. Low Honour Arthur is much more warbled ground for me as I feel he can go in many different directions!! He’s a little toxiccccc, girlies (I know y’all eat it up like I do). I’ve used my first headcanon post as a framework in order to have it be some sort of pair piece to the Mid Honour side. This has some deeper bits about Arthur’s character within the smuttiness, I hope that it’s still enjoyable! Love y’all <333 Tags: 18+ smut, MDNI!, oral, masturbation, p in v, Low Honour Arthur being a meanie Word count: 2,562 Ao3 Link.

♡ Oh, this man will hold it all in until he bursts. He is a boiling concoction of self-loathing, shame, fear, and desperation. All he wants is to be wanted, to be loved, but he won’t allow it for himself because he can’t imagine any instance where he genuinely deserves it.

♡ When it comes to PDA, well, don’t count on him being consistent. One moment, he’ll let you wrap an arm around his waist or plant a kiss on his cheek, sometimes he’ll even squeeze your rear or hold your waist if he’s up for it. The next moment? A mighty volte-face. He’ll dodge your hands, turn away, glare at you as if you’re insane for trying to touch him.

♡ If you keep trying to rile him up, he’ll genuinely get agitated. Each time you touch him, he almost snarls, his mind tearing itself apart, both aflame with need and extinguishing it all at once. He’ll snap at you whilst his fingers twitch and his eyes rake down your body. “Simmer down, girl.” “None o’that now.” “I said quit it. I ain’t in the mood.”

♡ He’ll even go as far as to insult you to get you to back off, even if it in turn makes him feel worse. “Ain’t got two pennies on my person right now, Miss.” “Why don’chu go wear yourself out doin’ some work instead seein’ as you ain’t helped none today.” “Not sure you need makin’ more stupid today, darlin’. Go ‘n’ help Grimshaw.”

♡ There is one thing that he enjoys quite greedily though… You sitting in his lap. Your plush rear settled into the cradle of his groin and your soft body applying the most calming pressure to his person as he swills a sup of whiskey about his mouth. He’ll allow you to sink onto his lap at almost any time, in any way. It gives him a blazing kick of control and though he won’t admit it, it helps ground him.

♡ If you want to turn him on, it takes some time but not because his body is failing to react. He’ll grow solid as stone but you have to get him to a point where he feels ready enough to touch you in return.

♡ Some nights, he’ll allow himself a simple, rough bout of self-pleasure. His hands move quickly, sloppily, like his whole being is searing with an unscratchable itch. He’ll huff and grunt and spill over his fist without thinking too much, before he can think too much. He cleans up and tucks away his cock as though he’s uncomfortably tending to a wound, his eyes only flitting down occasionally to make sure he’s not missed anything.

♡ He doesn’t deserve the pleasure. He doesn’t deserve to be loved or held or valued for much more than the services he can provide. For the workhorse needs nothing more than a mere carrot to serve its master.

♡ But he also wants to take. To snatch what he so desperately wants from the world around him, from you. Whether he deserves it or not. He just wants a taste, he knows it won’t last for very long.

♡ Like a cat to cream, he just wants to lap insatiably before the hand that feeds him so sporadically rips it away again.

♡ He isn’t all that talkative a lot of the time. He can be vocal but it’s more subdued. Grunting, groaning, but through clenched teeth, huffing. Puffing very loud breaths through his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut and maintains a vice-like grip on your hips. The majority of his thoughts stay caged within his mind. I don’t deserve this. God, I don’t deserve this at all. I’m ruining this poor woman. I can’t stop myself. Foolish and desperate as always. Arthur, you sick son of a bitch.

♡ When he does feel like talking, he’s quite blunt. Telling you what to do to give him what he wants, telling you what to do so that you get what you want. “Up now, girl.” “Lean forward, now.” “C’mon.” “Come now, girl.” “That’s good.” “Doin’ well.” “S’at good enough?”

♡ His way of praising you is a bit more forceful. He wants you to feel it, not just hear it. Sometimes he’ll praise you through words, his voice strained, “That’s it, girl.” “Mm, you’re feelin’ good tonight, girl.” “Oh, there y’go. That’s it.” “Gooood girl, good girl, keep at it.” “Mm, right- right there– That- that’s it- beautiful-” 

♡ Other times he’ll praise you physically - squeezing your waist, smacking your ass, thrusting into you a few times a little quicker with a hum and a sharkish grin to show he’s enjoying you, mouthing at your skin, licking his lips after tasting you.

♡ You can praise him in return, but be prepared to hear him sigh. His face will scrunch as if you’d just kicked him in the stomach, and to him, it feels as though you have. “Wha’d I say ‘bout talkin’ like that? Mhm, yeah, I said quit it.” “You tryna piss me off?” “Shit, girl– Stop with all that.” “Shut up.”

♡ If you catch him out on a particularly tiring or stressful day, your words will choke him of breath. His eyes will dart up, he’ll blink uncomfortably, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue nervously wetting his lips as his self-loathing funnels down from his brain and floods his lungs, melting the usual bite from his voice. His forehead will land on your shoulder, or against his palm. “None o’that today.” “Please, darlin’.”

♡ Once in a blue moon, something more will slip from him, the pleasureful haze brewing a drunken feeling in his chest akin to romance. His touch will soften, his movements slowing, his gaze shining with a strange clarity… And he in those moments he lets you see him. “Ain’t deservin’ of you, darlin’.” “You been on my mind all week, I- I been thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ you into town.” “I weren’t plannin’ to leave ‘til mornin’. If you’ll have me.”

♡ If he smothers you, that’s just how it is, he won’t even think about it unless you let him know he’s doing it. “Mm– Arthur– You’re crushin’ me.” “Apologies, Miss.” His voice will leave him cattish, very almost chuckling.

♡ He’ll be gone for days or weeks at a time and return to camp abruptly in the middle of the night, practically ripping through the flap of his or your tent, grabbing, mouthy, and greedy. “Get up, girly.” “Evenin’ to ya, Miss. You’re lookin’ mighty warm ‘n’ comfortable.” “In my tent again, I see? You’d think you were waitin’ for somethin’.”

♡ If you try to look him in the eye, he’s quick to duck his head down, fuck you harder to make your eyes roll back and away from him, pinch you, push your chin up. Trying to form a consistent connection with him is futile, he won’t allow it. He’ll groan, the sound towing the line between vulnerable and truculent. “Stop that.” He’ll flip you over and shove your face into the pillows if he has to.

♡ If you’re persistent in your efforts, he’ll become genuinely agitated with you. “M’not here for that. Stop.” And if he’s feeling particularly unfond of the attention, his body will falter, his cock softening, the solidity and heat flowing up and through to instead fence off his heart.

♡ When you climb atop him, whether it be to ride his cock or his face, he has a habit of averting his gaze to the sight of your glistening core adorning the cruel landscape of his body the same way a stream runs over the jagged rock of the bed. If he has an arm free, he’ll bring it over his eyes, chest heaving, teeth bared as he groans.

♡ This man will buck up into you, no question about it. He loves to roll his full length into you when he’s on top, feeling you pulse around him as you whine, so it’s not different when the roles are reversed. Take, take, take, give, give, give.

♡ By your umpteenth orgasm, you’re sheening with one another’s sweat. His skin sticks to yours, his musk sharpening your sweet scent as you breathe each other in through sloppy kisses. You’ll have to change your clothes, if you’re wearing any, as will he. Though, only with a full bath will you remove the tang of his sweat.

♡ This man is a glutton in all ways he allows himself to be. He’ll unabashedly devour you, his thick fingers dipping into your skin as he viciously mouths his way up and down between your clit and your core. He needs you to huff and gasp and moan, he needs to hear and feel what you’re feeling from him, for him. He’ll groan, pressing his cock into whatever’s beneath him. He’ll overstimulate you with purpose, watching you as your head falls back, as your heels dig into his back, as you cry out his name. His lips and tongue will be flushed a sweet pink when he pulls away only to take a few breaths before planting heavy kisses about your groin.

♡ When you kiss your way down his chest, his stomach, inching lower, his breaths tighten. His hands will already twitch with the urge to grab your head, want and discomfort waging a fearsome war behind his dilating pupils. He’ll grab at whatever is at his sides and his mouth will drop open with a low groan as you gently guide his cock into your mouth, you’d almost think you’re hurting him. He’ll stammer out a few half words as you start to suck and if you look up quickly enough, you’ll catch his gaze, wide and focused on you. So many words want to burst from him, yet they never do. His brow will furrow and his jaw will tense as he thrusts into your mouth, his breaths verging on whimpers. At some point, a hand will come to the back of your head and he’ll stroke your hair, his fingers occasionally twitching, grabbing as the pace increases. He’ll grunt and squeeze his eyes shut, the muscles in his jaw flickering, his body writhing. The need for more starts to slosh about in his stomach like gasoline, one spark of nervous thought away from combusting, from pushing you away and singeing you both.

♡ On occasion, he has wordlessly and swiftly ushered you out of his tent or left yours in a few long strides, heavy with his brutish build but also fear and discomfort. If he feels that you saw him a little too closely, feels that you were a little too kind, too familiar, his skin will burn with the compulsion to put as much distance between you as possible despite you remaining firmly at the forefront of his mind.

♡ In those moments, rough, strained huffs escape his chest as he quells the hot and gentle tears coalescing at his eyelashes. His stomach becomes an angry, swinging weight, dragging him about, seeking some sort of solace. He knows he could find it in you if he went back but he just can’t bring himself to bare more than his body to you.

♡ If you’re growing to be a little too loud during sex, especially if you’re semi-public, he won’t hesitate to clamp a palm over your mouth, giving your head a little shake. “Now now, enough o’that. You’re soundin’ like you’re wantin’ to be caught.” He’ll shove his tongue into your mouth, or even apply a light pressure to your throat, juuuust enough to stifle your moans into squeaks. “I said quiet now, sweetheart.”

♡ He likes to paw at your rear, your hips, your thighs, pushing them apart, moving to your breasts, his hands warm and rough and kneading your shoulders as he mouths at your jaw. When he settles into it, he loves massaging your body, giving you what he won’t give himself, a unique bristly tenderness. He’ll stabilise you, holding you, but there’s a lasciviousness to it. He’s helping you but his own gain is of equal thought.

♡ He’ll suckle on your skin, nipping at you, grinning as he pulls little gasps from you and purples your skin. If you don’t complain too much, he’ll pinch and squeeze you here and there, digging his blunt nails into your skin and bringing you flush to him with a low hum.

♡ You’re permitted to mark him in turn, “If you’d like.” Scratching his back and drawing a shiver and a hungry moan from him. He’s quite fond of you biting his shoulders, tonguing at his skin as you suck as his neck, bruising his back with your heels as he thrusts into you. “S’a dangerous mouth you got there, girl.” “Christ- c- careful, darlin’.”

♡ He’ll check in with you, though it’s quick. If you’re on your front, he’ll lean forward and cup the side of your head, guiding you to look at him briefly. “Y’alright?” “Yeah?” “That’s it, ain’t it?” If you’re on your back, he’ll nuzzle into your neck, kissing and humming. “How’s that feelin’, darlin’?”

♡ He’ll soak your skin with messy kisses, practically biting you as he moves to your mouth, your teeth clinking together. He’ll grin as you laugh into his mouth, a grating hum sounding in his palette, something sounding so close to him calling you his girl. “Mmm’girl. C’mere.”

♡ He’s not one to often tolerate an attitude. He’ll tense, his brow furrowing, eyes narrowing, jaw setting. He’ll grasp you, putting you into position, leaning in close, his lips brushing yours. “You gon’ keep grousin’?” “What’s that about, hm, girl?” “You wanna tell me what you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to me that way?”

♡ He’ll also click his tongue or tut at you, and even shake his head while he’s doing it if he’s feeling especially snarky.

♡ If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he’s not likely to stop if he thinks you can handle it. He’ll slow down for a moment, let you have a few breaths, but while you do, he’s palming at you, kissing your back or chest, riling you up still. “Shhh, shh, sh, c’mon now. You can take it, can’chya? I seen you do it before… Mhm, that’s it, good girl.”

♡ If it really is too much for you, he’ll hook his arms beneath yours from whichever way you're facing and bring you up to sit in his lap, a heavy sigh escaping him as he snuffs out the nasty compulsion to snap at you. He wouldn’t want to snap at you deep down, it’s just his body seething with need. “Come on, darlin’. Why don’chu take a minute? Here, come.” He’ll hold you to him, tense with arousal, his eyes closing, fighting how exposed the gesture makes him feel.

♡ He’s quite dominating, but the blade of his controlling nature has blunted edges when it comes to you. He can be aloof, snippy, rolling his eyes, but he’ll still kiss you and rub your shoulders or waist as he’s snapping at you. He won’t always say no to you taking some of the control either; though he has to guide you into it or tell you to take control.

Tags for my sweethearts (I can't remember exactly who, so sorry if I've missed you or tagged you accidentally! Love y'all!): @frillydolle @pinescent-and-gingerbread @zae-heeyyy @thoughts-of-bear @kayyqua @thundermartini

[thebumblebeesworld]

my next annie x reader is turning out a lil toxiccccc. i’m all for it—— and here’s the gif i’m using for it! 1950s au btw~ NIGHT TIME LOVIN’

[fromyouth]

'    and    how    do    you    think    i    feel    ?    '    crazy,    would    be    the    answer.    she    never    wanted    this,    never    asked    for    any    of    it.    yet    her    nights    become    restless    as    she's    haunted    by    thoughts    of    him    —    what    he’s    doing,    who    he’s    with.    she    detests    just    how    much    she    needs    him.     '    i    wish    i    never    met    you.    '     she    doesn't    mean    it,    knows    how    better    off    she    would    be,    doesn't    make    her    want    it    any    more.     '    everyone    tells    me    i    should    end    it,    did    you    know    that    ?    but    i    just    …    i    cant    shake    you.    '

                              ❝     you're    the    worst    thing    that's    ever    happened    to    me    ,    and    yet    i    still    want    you    .     ❞

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

content warnings (for the whole series): mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

↳ currently playing ;

No. 1 Party Anthem - 1978

1:56 ——————•———— 3:24

↺       <<         ll          >>    ⋮≡

In September of ‘78, both Daisy Jones & The Six and Y/N announced their tours. And while the ticket sales for Daisy Jones & The Six were high, Y/N’s were much higher.

Y/N: “I didn’t think that my ticket sales were gonna be so well if I’m going to be honest.”

“I fell off the face of the earth for a year. It was shocking enough to see that my album take off the way it did. So the fact that my team had to scramble to make my tour go from an all arena tour to a full stadium tour to keep up with the demand of tickets…that was just…wow.”

“The band was also getting a lot of attention after Aurora released. I didn’t want to show it then but…I was proud. I was proud of them. I was proud that they had the world in their hands…that they had everything they wanted.”

Billy: “I should’ve been happy for her. I should’ve been proud. But all I could feel was this fucking pit in my stomach. This jealousy, this resentment… and it was eating me up from the inside.”

“The thing is, I wasn’t just angry at her. I was angry at myself. Angry at how I couldn’t keep it together. How I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be. I couldn’t even be the man I needed to be for me, you know?”

“So I did what I always did when I felt lost. I turned to the only thing that would drown out the noise in my head…drugs, alcohol, you name it. And the worst part? The band getting caught up in the mess of it all and I didn’t even care. I was spiraling, falling deeper and deeper, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. It felt like the only way to cope, to deal with everything crashing around me.”

“And she- she was out there. Selling out stadiums. Living her life, her dreams. She didn’t need me anymore. She was bigger than everything. Bigger than us. And I couldn’t figure out how to hold on to anything. Not even her.”

“I let her go, and she let me go, too. That was the hardest part to swallow.

Y/N: “I didn’t want to let him go.”

"I only let him go because I had to let him go."

“But everyone thought I did."

"They thought I wanted to let him go. They thought that I was this strong, untouchable thing who moved on like it was nothing."

"At first it was true, but that was only because I was angry....but then that anger turned into sadness."

"So, it ended up even being true.”

"I had to pretend I was okay. I had to make myself believe that I was okay. And sure, did I feel better now that I didn't have Billy constantly on me? Yes."

"But I never stopped loving him."

"Not even when I was selling out stadiums. Not even when I was standing in front of thousands of people every night, pretending I was whole without him."

“The truth is…I kept looking for him. Every city, every crowd, I searched for his face. I’d finish a show, and the first thing I’d do when I got back to my hotel room was check the phone.”

“Hoping there’d be a call, a message… something. But it was always nothing.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean- I just disappeared for a whole year.”

“I guess, I just…wanted to hear his voice.”

She inhales sharply.

"I was standing in front of thousands of people, every night, singing songs about him, and I thought I’d moved on. But how the fuck do you move on from something like that?”

“So I stopped. Not because I wanted to. But because I had to.”

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

The crowd was deafening, their cheers shaking the foundation of the stadium as you stood at the edge of the stage. Thousands of voices screamed your name.

The stage lights burned bright, hot against your skin. You could feel it. This moment, this success, this dream you'd built from the ground up.

You should’ve felt alive.

Instead, you felt empty.

You stepped back, pushing damp strands of hair from your face as your heart pounded.

You looked out to the crowd, searching for something—someone.

But he wasn't there.

You knew he wasn't going to be there.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

It's okay.

It's better this way.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy: “I got lost, you know? I really fucking got lost after she left. Everything just started spinning out of control, like I was in this dark pit I couldn’t get out of. I thought I could handle it...hell, I thought I had control over everything back then. But once she was gone, that pit just... it swallowed me whole."

"And the worst part? I didn’t even care. At first, anyway. Because, well, I didn’t have to care, right? I was Billy Dunne. I had everything. I had the band, I had the fame, I had people who would have killed to be in my shoes. I could have anyone."

"But it was always her. It was always her that I wanted."

"I remember the shit I used to say to her, though. About how she was replaceable. About how she should be lucky to be with me. I made her feel small, like she should be grateful I even chose her."

"Like she was just something I could throw away if I wasn’t feeling it anymore."

"I used to tell her I could have anyone. That she didn’t mean anything special. That I was the one who was doing her a favor. But it was bullshit. I know that now. It was all to cover up how fucking scared I was that I wasn’t good enough for her. That I wasn’t enough, and if I told her that, if I let her know that she was the best thing that ever happened to me, maybe, just maybe, she’d see it too and leave me anyway."

"I wish I could take it all back. All the things I said. All the ways I treated her. I wish I could go back to when she was still mine, when she was still looking at me with that goddamn hope in her eyes. I wish I could’ve been the person she needed, the person she deserved. But I wasn’t. I was too busy being a fucking mess to see that."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy was drunk.

Not the good kind of drunk where everything felt light and floaty.

No, never that kind of drunk.

This was the kind of drunk where nothing made sense anymore.

He sat slumped on the couch, bottle in hand, the laughter of the band echoing around him. They were celebrating another sold-out show, but he wasn’t there. Not really.

He should’ve been proud. Should’ve been reveling in the success of Aurora, in the fact that they were finally on top. But instead, all he could hear was the distant hum of your name. Every magazine cover, every radio interview—your name.

You were everywhere.

But not with him.

He took another chug, the alcohol burning down his throat, numbing the ache that never seemed to go away. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the newspaper on the table, the bold headline staring back at him.

MIDNIGHT'S REGRETS—SELLS OUT ANOTHER STADIUM. THE BIGGEST TOUR OF THE YEAR?

Billy’s grip tightens around the bottle as he stares at the picture beneath the headline. It’s you. Standing on stage, arms outstretched, the entire world screaming for you. You’re smiling. You look radiant. Untouchable.

You were on top of the world.

Without him.

Billy stares at the ceiling, the room spinning slightly.

He wonders if you ever think about him.

If you ever stare at the ceiling the way he does.

If you ever miss him the way he misses you.

But then he remembers the stadiums. The flashing lights. The roaring crowds chanting your name.

And he convinces himself that you don’t.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "Other than missing Billy, tour was pretty good for me."

"Sure I was sad, but being up on stage helped. Every night, when I stepped out there, I was surrounded by the kind of love I couldn’t get from anywhere else. The crowd, the music, it was all so loud, so overwhelming. And it made me feel.. seen. It made me feel like I mattered, like I was something more than just a broken heart."

"It’s funny, though. The more I saw myself getting bigger, the more I realized I was just pretending. I was pretending like I didn’t care, like it didn’t hurt."

"But no matter how many stadiums I played, how many people screamed my name…nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it used to. Because there was always this gaping hole where he used to be."

"But honestly....I as much as I wanted to see him...I was afraid to see him just as much..."

"And...I know a lot of people think that I didn't see Billy and the others til the 1979 Grammys...."

"But I actually saw them after my L.A show."

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy hadn’t planned on going. He didn’t even know if he could handle seeing you live, seeing how far you’d come without him. But as the hours ticked by, he felt this strange pull. It felt like fate, or maybe it was just curiosity, but either way, he couldn’t shake the idea.

He wasn’t the only one who felt it.

"Are we really doing this?" Warren asks as they walk toward the venue, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I mean, after everything? Are we ready for that?"

Billy shrugs, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "We have the day off. Might as well."

Graham’s gaze is fixed on Billy, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Billy hesitates, but then nods. He doesn’t know if he’s ready. But he knows he has to see you. He has to see how you’ve changed, what you’ve become. If only to prove to himself that you were better off without him.

They all settle in their seats and ehe sound of cheering grows louder as the lights begin to dim.

"Here we go" Eddie says quietly.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "No one knew I was hurting. Sometimes even i think I didn't know I was hurting."

Karen: "When she came out on stage, she looked so...happy. So free."

“You could tell she was in her element. The way she moved, the way she smiled, it was like she wasn’t the same person anymore. Like she had shed everything, all the pain, all the hurt, and just…blossomed.”

Eddie: "You know what stood out to me? The way she looked at the crowd. The way she was in complete control. She was exactly where she needed to be."

Graham: "Her performance was just- wow. That's the best way to describe it."

"Because only she could go from twirling around stage in a long flowing dress to it being ripped off and revealing a sparkly top and skirt- at least at the time."

Warren: "She was killing it." "Her fans were going crazy, and honest I was too, especially during the 'love is embarrassing' dance break."

"And then when her show was interrupted because her team told her she was nominated for three Grammys? I don't think i've ever heard a crowd get that loud."

Daisy: "She looked so happy when she found out. And honestly it was deserved. She deserved to be happy. Not some pretend happiness shit, she deserved true happiness."

"But then something...shifted on stage."

Y/N: "It happened when I was singing Clean."

"I was as okay as I could be, but for some reason I just- I started to feel. Like really feel."

"I felt like everything from the past year was just crashing down on me."

"I don't know why I did what I did, but I changed a lyric while I was on stage."

"The original lyric was '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss it'."

"I changed it to '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss him'."

Warren: "I think we all collectively had a 'did she really say that' moment."

"Billy especially."

Daisy: "I was standing next to Billy, and I could see him visibly tense up."

"And that's not even the worst part of it."

"A little bit after the song ended, we got moved to a VIP tent."

"Guess her team found out we were there."

Y/N: "I didn't think much of it at first."

"It was a small change. A mistake."

"But deep down, I knew it was how I felt."

"And then...."

"I started 'Bejeweled'."

"And the choreography for that had me walking all over the stage."

"That's when I saw them."

"That's when I saw him."

Billy: "I don't even know how to describe that moment. One second, she was just…her. Larger than life, untouchable. And then she looked right at us."

Karen: "Her eyes widened. Just for a second. She didn’t miss a beat. She kept performing, kept singing, but I could tell. That second changed everything."

Eddie: "It was like the world stopped. I swear, she stumbled for half a second. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but we did."

Daisy: "The way she looked at Billy…that wasn’t just shock. That was years of love, heartbreak, regret, and whatever the hell else they never said to each other."

Warren: "I honestly felt like I shouldn’t be watching. Like it was too personal."

Graham: "And Billy? Jesus. He just stood there, completely frozen. I don't think he even breathed."

Billy: "I...I wasn’t ready for that. I thought I was. I thought, you know, we’d see her, we’d hear her sing, and that would be it. But the second her eyes met mine, I knew it wasn’t over. Not really."

Y/N: "The second I saw him, I forgot the lyrics. My own damn lyrics."

"I covered it up, kept singing, let the crowd fill in, but my hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. Because there he was, standing in the middle of my world, looking at me like I was still his."

"And that? That made the anger come back."

Karen: "She kept going, but there was something different now. She wasn’t just performing anymore. She was feeling it."

Daisy: "I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like she was singing at Billy. Every word, every move, it was all for him, but not in a good way."

Y/N: "I made it through the song. Barely. But my head was spinning. My heart was pounding."

"I thought I was going to run off stage again."

"But I thought, "No. Not again.""

"So I kept going."

She laughs. "Thankfully the next two songs were 'Better Than Revenge' and 'Out Of The Woods', so I was able to take all my anger out."

Warren: "Oh, she went for it. Like, full-throttle, no-holding-back, fuck-you kind of energy."

Eddie: "By the time she hit 'Better Than Revenge,' the whole crowd could feel it. She wasn’t just performing anymore, she was calling him out."

Karen: "The way she stomped across that stage, the way she sneered certain lyrics…Yeah, we all knew exactly who she was thinking about."

Daisy: "He knew too."

Graham: "Billy didn’t say a word. Just stood there, jaw clenched, staring at the stage like he was waiting for her to break. But she didn’t."

Billy: "You want the truth? I wanted to leave. I should have left. But I couldn't. I had to see it, see her. Even if it killed me."

Y/N: "I sang my heart out. I screamed my heart out. Every word, every lyric, I meant them all."

"I twirled, I kicked, I let my hair whip around me. The lights were blinding, the crowd was deafening, but all I could focus on was that one damn spot in the VIP tent."

"He was still watching. Still there."

"So I gave him a show."

Daisy: "She didn’t just perform. She owned that stage. Like she was proving something. Maybe to him, maybe to herself. Maybe both."

Warren: "And then she hit 'Out of the Woods,' and I swear to God, I thought the roof was gonna blow off the place."

Karen: "That song has always been intense, but this? This was something else."

Y/N: "I should’ve been exhausted by the time the song ended. I should’ve felt drained, empty. But I didn’t."

"I felt alive."

"Even when final note of the encore rang out. "

"The crowd was screaming, and I just stood there, panting, my heart hammering in my chest."

"I looked back at the VIP tent."

"I saw Billy."

"And when I looked into his eyes..."

"I knew he was back in my life again."

"Whether I liked it or not."

A/N: HOLYYYYY SHIT ITS FINALLY OUT!!!!

hope u guys enjoyed!!! i promise that GOU is next!

tysm for reading and as always my requests/asks are open (if u guys wanna chat abt this chapter <33)

[halloweennut]

Toxiccccc

Anyway I was possessed and drew this on a train to a celebration of life for my grandpa I'm coping MARVELOUSLY

[breezeinmonochromenight]

The Adi Shankar sweepers got really quiet after that interview lol 👀

I mean, the dude you’re dick riding for destroyed your best argument for him, so the smart move here is literally just to shut the fuck up and stop doing gymnastics on it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Like. The main/most frequent talking point I saw in Adi Shankar’s defense was “it’s just his take on DMC you’re all just meaaaannn and toxiccccc and trying to gatekeeeeeeep :(:(”. And then the dumbfuck in question comes out and says “I thought the series was dead and I wanted to bring it back my way and I’m super unhappy that Capcom made Devil May Cry 5 and it was really successful because it takes away from meeeeee and myyyyyy visionnnnn :(:(:(:(.” There’s no cleaning that one up.

[totaldrama-showdowns]

Round 1 Match 15

Propaganda

Chowie: “I'm so sorry but the idea of bowie hating on chase for emma and then getting with him anyways is the funniest dynamic. like he's toxiccccc get away from him. BUT he is kinda funny... emma staring daggers at bowie like...”

“Loser dumbass fuckface x the best boy ever”

“toxic yaoi SWEEP!!!!!!”

Shed: “S cary girl x HEzekias x Damien. It's Zeemien and Scarmien but with Scarzee. Scary Girl gives Zee the idea to ram the ship and he listens, he clearly respects her. Plus I feel like he'd be the one to calm Damien down when Scary Girl says "I'll make Damien toe soup:)" without elaborating. Also trout sweep. Think of how awesome they'd be.”

“Literally for what the other person said yeah. Awesome polycule and zee deserves to be in a polycule in this bracket that doesn't involve chase”

“Theyre some of the best characters of gen4 we should make them kiss”

[penaltybox-gossip]

the fact that we’re about to see some wags of known cheaters posing in their jackets, as well as probably a lot more whose SO is a cheater that we don’t know about… im feeling kind of yicked out lol. the culture is toxiccccc

Sadly. I’m looking at the fashion myself but yes that’s another part that’s like ohhh or ewwww