“Do you trust me?” Tim asked, eyes locked with yours. Not a good thing to ask while the both of you were dangling over the edge of some random old building.
When you’d appointed yourself as Tim’s personal assistant, it had been purely out of concern for his well-being. Sometimes, it seemed like he was insistent on running himself down. You’d keep an eye on him, feed him when it was necessary, help with him with his ever-growing pile of work, things like that. He didn’t seem to mind, had even tried to sneak in a raise to your salary without you noticing but you’d put a stop on that before it got out of hand.
Running away from evil defective robots out for blood and your heads on a silver platter, however, was definitely not in the description of your self-appointed job of Tim’s personal assistant. And definitely not how you were planning on spending your work hours. Maybe you should have agreed to that raise, after all.
“You know I do.” You told him.
“Then jump.” He said nonchalantly as if he wasn’t just asking you to basically throw your life away for him. Okay, yeah, you trusted him but maybe not that much.
Warnings: Sexual Harassment, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Threatens of Violence
Word Count: 1,407
A/N: Ok, this one is roughly based on something that happened to me recently. When people comment on your body as if it’s you’re fault that they’re gross, it makes you feel gross.
–
You hummed as you walked to school, your headphones masking out any outer interruptions. It was a crisp, fall day and you had chosen to walk home compared to taking the bus for two reasons. One, the weather is fabulous, as mentioned beforehand. Two, when you walked to and from school, you used the same shortcut as a certain blonde boy in your neighborhood.
Speaking of,
“Hey, Micheal!” You slid your headphones down to your neck and jogged to catch up to your boyfriend. He turned around and grinned as he saw you. You trotted up to him and pecked him before continuing your journey to school.
“You look cute, today.” You chuckled and flipped your hair back from your headphones. You did admit that your ensemble was more put together than usual. You had accidentally done a great job with your makeup, which meant that an equally great outfit had to go along with it. You were wearing a cute, grey sweater with dark blue jeans that -just saying- made your butt look pretty good.
“Are you saying I don’t look cute everyday?” you teased, prompting Michael to wrap an arm around your waist and gently tug you closer.
“Of course not, but you’re extra gorgeous, today.” You instinctively draped your left hand over the arm around your waist as the two of you continued on your way.
–
You placed your bookbag on your desk as the dismissal bell rang. Last period was finally over and you could go meet Michael to walk home. Maybe we can stop by that pasty shop nearby, you thought to yourself. You were so lost in thought that you totally ignored your surroundings.
Until you felt a sharp sting on your backside.
You gasped and looked behind you to see what -or who- had caused it, and came face-to-face with one of the football players. He was surrounded by his friends and he was wearing his jersey for Game Day; Number 71.
He attempted to leave, unnoticed but you called out.
“Hey!” Your voice was thick. “What was that!?” The jock turned to face you, wearing a cocky expression that was dripping in ego.
“C’mon, you can’t dress like that and expect us not to notice,” your heart dropped in your chest as another one said,
“You were distracting us all period, y’know?” Number 58,
“Stop acting like you don’t like the attention.” Number 20.
With that, they turned and left.
You, on the other hand, could only stand there. Berated, humiliated, and hurt. You felt tears pooling in your eyes and your nose began to sting. You had a male teacher, so you didn’t want him to see your crying. Or my butt, for that matter.
You rushed out of the classroom and into the bustling hallway.
You roughly shoved past the freshmen, the violent athletes, and even teachers, who were in your way. You just wanted to go home. After battling with the entire student body, you managed to escape as your feet met pavement.
You were sobbing, now. Storming down the sidewalk, your mascara and eyeshadow drew streaks down onto your cheeks and nose. The wind -that you had been enamored with that morning- was biting and harsh, ruining your hair. You even tripped at one point, skinning your knee and ripping a hole in your nice jeans.
It was terrible.
By the time you arrived home, you were in shambles. You fell to your couch, huddling in with your knees to your chest.
You eventually cried yourself to sleep.
–
BANG! BANG! BANG!
You awoke to a pounding on your front door. Your parents weren’t supposed to be home for a few days, so you were curious as to who it was. You heaved off of your couch, still half-asleep. You hadn’t even checked your makeup.
“Micheal?” He stood at your doorway, panting heavily. He paused before speaking. Then his face went dark and he brought a hand to your cheek. Crap.
“What happened.” You brushed his hand off and attempted to wipe away some of the oily makeup.
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Just saw a sad movie.” Michael’s eyes narrowed. You knew that you could never lie to him. You sighed and walked inside, inviting Michael to follow. “Let me wash my face first. These jeans are too tight, anyways.”
You walked back into your living room with one of Michael’s hoodies on and a warm pair of leggings. He stood from your couch and wrapped his long arms around you, causing your heart to swell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and let out a small sob.
Michael was never the best at affection, but at the moment, he reached a hand up and gently ran his hand through your hair.
“What happened?” His voice was softer.
“Some football players said some things and… one of them touched me.” You felt him tense, but he didn’t press further. “It was humiliating. I wanted to die.” Michael violently pulled away and held your face so that you were looking at him straight in the eyes. You only saw fear.
“You’re not going to leave me, are you? You can’t die, I’ll die without you!” You knew that Michael had some trouble with controlling his anxiety, sometimes. You shook your head and placed your own hands over his and brought them down.
“No, honey, I’m not going to die, anytime soon. I was just… Really upset about the whole thing.” He nodded and pulled you into his chest, again. “Was it my fault? Is it because I dressed like that?” You felt him shake his head and pull you tighter.
“No. This is all on them.”
Afterward, Michael agreed to just cuddle you and watch sitcoms -which he either hated or loved, there’s no in between.
You appreciated these moments.
You sat in between his legs, with your own draped over his left thigh. He was getting muscular. Your head was in the crook of his neck as his right arm draped around your stomach; his hand rubbing circles along your navel.
You really loved this gentle boy.
–
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Did your doorbell just not work?
You ran down the stairs to the front door, trying to make the pounding-
“Shut up!” You were met with Michael, again.
Only this time, it was different.
This time, he was drenched in blood.
“What… happened?” Your mouth was malfunctioning. You couldn’t comprehend what -who- was in front of you.
“I-I found those jerks who hurt you. And I… hurt them back.” Your eyes widened and you took a step back, “(Y/n), please, I didn’t mean to. I swear.” Your hand slowly moved toward the handle of your front door.
He saw you.
Within seconds, your wrists were held in front of you as your front door slammed shut. Michael was getting blood on your floor.
“Michael! Please go! I don’t want to-” Michael interrupted you,
“I did this for you! How could you just ignore me like that! It’s too late!” You felt tears welling up as he screamed at you. You sealed your lips so as to not anger him further. “Aren’t you mad!? They hurt you, first!” Tears began to fall.
When Michael saw your crying, his hold on your wrists softened. He pulled you into his stomach and wrapped his arms around your waist. Dried blood crusted off as your hands made contact with his bicep. You sobbed into him for a few minutes before finally speaking.
“Of course it upset me.” Michael reflexively pulled you tighter against him. He smelled like iron. “But that doesn’t give you, or anyone the right to do the same to others. Michael, that makes you just as bad as them.”
“Am I bad?” You couldn’t see his face, but you could read his expression.
“I don’t know.” You replied honestly. You had seen behavior like this before, but never to this extent. Once, you complained about your parents and he point-blank offered to murder both of them.
However, you’d also seen Michael try his hardest to be good. Once, you told him that you had pulled an all-nighter, and he left school to buy you coffee and chocolate.
It was strange.
“But, if I had to guess; I’d say you’re trying. And in my opinion, that’s more important.” Michael responded with a small “Mm.”
The two of you stood like that for a while. You could hear his heartbeat.
the house was cozy and complete. there were still things you had to get used to, such as the shadows that seem to part whenever you moved. or the eyes that followed your every movement.
you didn’t want to think that michael was suspicious of you.
but you did.
and a small part of you felt unsettled and–dare you say–disappointed. still, that didn’t negate the promise you made to him.
i’ll always be by your side.
you saw michael with his leg stretched out on the dining room table. he was biting out of an apple, back leaned against the chair. his hair had grown just a bit, but in no way did it detract from his boyishness.
“good morning (name),” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
timidly, you waved at him, suddenly feeling bad for thinking those negative thoughts. “hey michael,” you responded. then, in an effort to lighten your situation, you added, “that apple looks evil, don’t choke on it.”
a quiet laugh slipped out of michael’s mouth as he placed the half-eaten apple on the tabletop. “not as evil as i am.” a smile played on his lips.
you had to remember that he wasn’t human nor was he a force of good. he had, and will always, be the dark, the corrupter, the antichrist.
“i think you are very nice, michael.”
“do you? i already told you, i’m the antichrist,” he said, quirking up a teasing eyebrow. with one finger, he beckoned you towards him. without any hesitation, you walked up to him. michael’s legs withdrew from the table as he slid back the seat.
immediately, you sat down on his lap. a dark blush tainted your cheeks and michael was quick to notice. he was pleased but you could see the mischief behind his stormy eyes.
“i, um, felt things,” you said, mind wandering again to the shadows and imaginary eyes. your fingers curled on the fabric of your jeans, before climbing their way up to michael’s shoulders.
his response was a hum.
“like…stuff, shadows, and eyes. are they yours?”
you noticed his eyes roaming over your front until trailing back onto your face. he was contemplating something, you knew that, but you couldn’t help but notice something hidden behind his gaze. the storm in them suddenly parted to a hurricane, a flurry of hidden ideas and thoughts.
you knew already that there were things he will never discuss with you.
“yes, those are mine. i just want to make sure you are safe,” michael replied, shrugging his shoulders. once again, his facade returned to nonchalance.
a frown etched itself in your wary face. michael’s hand found purchase upon your cheek, slowly caressing it. the gesture soothed you, but it didn’t quell your rapid heartbeats.
“i’m safer than ever in this home.”
“i know, but there are wolves out there, little sheep. wolves that will come and destroy what’s ours–what’s mine.” his smile turned wider and all of a sudden, you saw two teeth that were too sharp to be considered human.
a part of you wondered what would happen if you pricked your finger on them.
to be bitten by the antichrist, the destroyer, wouldn’t that be a dream?
“(name), are you listening?” michael’s voice echoed into your head, snapping you out of your fantasy. once again you noticed his fangsteeth first, their appearance highlighted in stark contrast to his pale lips.
“yes, michael, i am,” you replied, placing a hand on his.
this pleased michael enough for him to wear that familiar boyish satisfaction on his face.
*sees this post* *reads Ben nsfw* *skips over all my other asks in favor of this one*
I’m a Ben slut and I have no shame so let’s do this! Whoop whoop!
🔯 Likes hair pulling. Giving or receiving.
🔯 Has a ton of kinks and really wants to be a dominant but he gets really nervous when he truly likes someone
🔯 Are you into petplay? I sure hope so. He’s such a weeb and seeing his partner is petplay gear really gets him going
🔯 Gets kinda teary eyed after an orgasm. Might get his bloody tears on you. He’s so sorry.
🔯 Doesnt like giving injuries but he likes seeing his partner with them. Bruises or accidental cuts? He’ll kiss every single one. If you are a masochist then he will be willing to inflict them but only after you convince him 100% to do so
🔯 Body worship. You are his Prince/princess. You only deserve the best and whatever you desire.
🔯 likes having music in the background. Fever by BFMV is his favorite to bang to.
🔯 likes doing it with clothes still on. It’s exciting.
🔯quickies literally anytime and anywhere. He WILL find a place to do it.
Gasp! My bb 😍 yes indeed you may! (Noodle has favorites if you can’t tell)
🔯 Stalker type. He’s obsessed with your every. move.
🔯 Started when you two played an online game and ended up on the same team. He didn’t think anything of it until he heard your voice through your headset
🔯 A chorus of dudes could be heard “wait, a GIRL is playing with us??”
“Yes, it’s 2018. Not that uncommon”
Ben snorted at the joke. “You tell em”
🔯 When you managed to defeat every sexist idiot on the other team, his interest was piqued.
🔯 He friended you and you guys played a few matches before you had to go. He said goodnight after adding you as a friend.
🔯 He lie awake for a while before he knew he HAD to know more about the awesome chic he met online. He cyber stalked around for a hit until he found your social media.
🔯 Honestly, he was drooling a little too. Great personality AND a cute face to boot? Hellz yea.
🔯 Miraculously, whenever you would come back online, he would be there. You began to wonder if he ever slept.
🔯 You two grew close and he began to idolize you (He kept the creep on the down low tho)
🔯 If anyone else got close to you, then their social lives would be ruined by this hacker boy. He’d fake posts by them that would make you not want to associate with them
🔯 Then he’d be there to listen to you vent about said posts that he made. It makes him a little smug, not gonna lie.
🔯 One day, you guys video call. He makes sure the room is dark so if his eyes start to bleed you can’t see. Hearing your voice WHILE seeing your face makes his week. (He’s recording the entire call for future reference. Maybe he will play it at your wedding… *sigh…*)
🔯 By now, he’s deluded himself into thinking you are in a relationship. He’s constantly making sure you’ve eaten and he even tries to set a “bed time” for you if you tend to stay up late. You just see it as him being an endearing friend.
🔯 Travels through the digital world to get to your room when you sleep. He loves watching you sleep so peacefully. Might straighten up your room while he’s at it. Quietly tho…
🔯 The only abuse when it comes to him is the manipulation behind it all. He’d never physically harm you or anyone you loved (unless they were a threat to him)
Every since you were little, you’ve always had a strange affinity for cats. No matter where you are, you seem to draw them to you. It isn’t uncommon for strays or other peoples pets to approach you when you are out and about. You’ve even watched the big cats at the zoo’s react similarly, bounding over to the glass and rubbing against it insistently.
It shouldn’t surprise anyone that you have ended up with quite a few cats living with you, having been unable to send them on their way, when they were so in need of some love. That’s what brings you here, buying a mass of cat food at 3am on a Sunday.
As you turn from the now almost empty shelf, ready to go in search of the last few items, you run straight into a broad chest. Looking up, you stammer a flustered apology, heart pounding with fright. For a moment, you could have sworn their eyes flashed, pupils pulled into slits, but the second you blinked, they were back to normal, or as normal as wine red eyes could be.
Soft morning Michael in just his soft plaid boxers fixing breakfast, hoping to surprise you before you wake up. With his soft and slightly tangled hair in a messy thrown up bun.
You quietly walk up behind him and slide your arms around his waist, still too asleep and mumbling against his back, he can’t quite make out your words, something like ‘too early’ and ‘beds cold’ but he can’t help but smile at how cute you are. Even if you’re just clinging to him for his warmth.
Lúcio made quite an improvement since the last of the hatchlings were adopted. It took a lot of coaxing, but he has managed to smile again and is more receptive to affection again. After a somewhat steamy evening, you decide to test out a hunch of yours… You grab a test at the local pharmacy and find out that you are pregnant with Lúcio’s child. It would be difficult, but you think you’re finally ready and able to take care of a child, so you choose to keep it. Won’t Lúcio be surprised.
You catch him lounging in the sun with his long tail stretched out and tell him the good news, to which Lúcio shoots up and looks at you then your belly with concern in his eyes. What’s with that expression?
With a trembling hand, he reaches out and touches your belly. He looks up to you with tears in his eyes and asks, “Are you going to give this one away too?”
Lúcio craddled three eggs in the bindings of his tail, eyeing them lovingly and cooing as he traced his finger over the warm shells. The eggs moved occasionally, and he could tell they would hatch soon. He was so excited to meet the little babies. To love them, care for them, and raise them with you. He just wished they’d hatch sooner!
A few hours went by and suddenly Lúcio heard the first crack. Urgently, Lúcio picked up each egg and inspected them until he found the one with a noticeable crack. There was movement behind the shell. Little fists stretching out and trying to beat their way out. Lúcio calls out to you, letting you know that it’s time and you hurriedly gather the necessary supplies to tend to the babies once they’ve hatched.
It was a rather slow process. The babies struggled to break through the shells and as much as the two of you wanted to help, you knew it was better to let them do it on their own. As each baby broke free, you lifted them up from their eggs and used a towel to rub off the amniotic fluid, checked for any abnormalities, then handed them to Lúcio to cradle in his arms.
Their florescent, shiny tails whipped around as they wailed and screeched with their first breaths. For the two of you, the sound of their cries was beautiful. The both of you teared up as you got a good look at the newly hatched babies. Lúcio leaned down to give each of them a kiss, and you held out a finger for one of them to take hold of.
“Hello! Hello babies! Oh my goodness, hello!” Lúcio whispered, feeling overwhelmed with elation as he gazed at each beautiful child. Three naga babies was a bit much for him though, so he handed one off to you. You gladly took the baby in your arms and gently rocked it to get the infant to calm down.
You watch Lúcio as he nuzzles his face into the babies, tongue darting out to take in their scent and scent them with his own.
“Look at the babies… Look at our babies,” Lúcio says between sobs.
You nod. “Aren’t they precious?” you reply.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love,” he says. “I mean, besides when I met you of course.”
Good save.
You scootch closer to Lúcio and press a kiss to his cheeks, assuring him the two of you will make great parents. Parents these orphaned babies need. Lúcio openly weeps at this, frantically nodding his head in agreement. What a sweetie. Looks like you have FOUR babies to take care of.
Toad's Cave 