#strangled moth

[spo-ork]

I don't know if I should even tag this one, but here's my addition to @emositecc's Loser Baby parody.

[year2000electronics]

stanford pines is trapped in a prison of writing.

his whole arc is about stepping down from this “special” and “unique” pedestal where only he and the “truly brilliant ones” can change the world, and in stepping down, he learns that he is just like everyone else, not above them and destined for greatness, nor below them and a six-fingered freak.

unfortunately, his reveal being so late in the show means that he spends most of his episodes lurking in the basement, hunting something supernatural, or dumping exposition. in a narrative sense, he cannot escape being this Enlightened Other figure because the story literally doesn’t give him room to breathe.

i think that’s my one big problem with gravity falls’ pacing, honestly. where episodes 14 and 16 bizarrely choose to exclude ford almost-entirely from the wacky shenanigans, and even in episodes like mabelcorn where he plays a role, it’s the story needing to explain ford’s role with bill

i think that’s why so much supplementary gravity falls media talks about ford or comes to us from ford’s perspective (journal 3, segments of the book of bill, lost legends) because ford would otherwise be left as a big exposition device

[mothinabottle]

Some of my mooties will start receiving small gifts in the next days.

I'll be drawing things 4 u according to your interests (or at least what I know of)

Please let me know if you have a character in mind if you haven't received your small gift in your inbox yet

[stormbreaker-290]

W

Whab in static waz moff 👉👈

Flumfy creature static?

HBJDHD,,,,,, That would be so fantastic oml-

"what . Whabt if we were both moths,,,,, amd we kissed,,,,,,,,"

[smileymoth]

help me i just started tearing up over how tragic tim had it

[chibifox2002]

BLOOD, VIOLENCE AND EYE CONTACT UNDER CUT!

As well as some slight Manny lore

That cliche of when you go back to your old work place to "clean up" and one of the monsters you made decides to merk you

Like dang it Manny git gud 🤦

[moist-pegging-champion]

juniper has that #FFFFFF skin tone

[orangetintedglasses]

Everyone had background noise in the silence of their own mind. Absolutely everyone with no exceptions; like a distant drip of water from a leaking pipe, it was just white noise that ran parallel to conscious, more active thought, and louder some days than others... but it wasn't everyone who was privy to the minds of other people. And it wasn't until the thought of being broken skittered across Wolfwood's subconscious-- a note that wasn't as playful or light, acting as a gateway --that Vash actually noticed he was snagged on something. Something... heavier, deeper... something that resonated so closely with his own wavelength that the Plant found himself drawn to it's pull, where the edges of where he ended and Wolfwood began would slowly begin to fray for him, just that little bit...

Outwardly, a somewhat distant look will come over his face, focus drifting off course. What was this? What was this? What--

But, then, Wolfwood kissed him, and his body responded. Heat and affection bloomed unchecked and sickly sweet from his end of things and snapped him out of the draw of that fog, mentally running over the last ten seconds or so of conversation he missed. Wolfwood might've been able to hear his own thoughts echoed back softly, as the blond ran through them again, under the guise that he was confused about what was said--

Oh... oh, is that how it works? I see...

A lick of embarrassment-- of 'ohhhh okay, I misunderstood, but now I get what you mean', followed by a chuff. Light and slightly sheepish.

OkayI'mstupidoops, now I understand-- the surprise is part of the appeal, too. I'll definitely be keeping that in mind, then~...

A promise, for sometime in the near future. He would make good on that... a-and not spoil it by just announcing it, whether it was within the bounds of their unspoken connection or otherwise. And to punctuate that, Vash would pulled Wolfwood in for another kiss (or maybe a few, more than a few) and moved them ever closer towards the shower.

Maybe we should just clean up and sleep, then... I want to be able to get up and grab supplies for the road in the morning, and we have to make checkout time... besides I can't make sounds properly for you right now and I know you like that--

But he'd still keep up the slow, methodical touch and movement-- stepping into the basin of the tub, backwards, still pulling the undertaker with him--

arm arm arm my arm crap crap crap

--and... then remembered that his prosthetic should not get wet, and his whole... attempt at a sexy display of sorts began to unravel a bit as Vash's expression morphed into one of alarm, and he nearly leapt out of the range of the shower before it could properly drench him--

Despite the overall lighthearted tone of Wolfwood's mindscape and his internal voice, Vash would feel something constantly tugging at him from within. The wider he expands his reach, the more pressure he'd feel weighing him down. It's an anxious, omnipresent force—perhaps one that Vash has experience with himself—laced with a deep, innate sadness. It is likely that the 'fog' that occasionally weakens their connection also pertains to these same features.

And yet, Wolfwood is able to press on in his teasing without issue. There isn't any possible way to mask the burden of shame and guilt and depression and anxiety from anyone prodding at his mind. He can compartmentalize the specific memories and broad concerns, but he can't do much about how these deeply rooted negative feelings impact him daily—even when he's in the best of moods. They lurk like shadowy figures in the fog, hiding like monsters or demons until there's a crack in his armor.

———

The undertaker lets out a soft gasp when Vash cups his chin; his cheeks still full of a sweet, velvety red, like a gourmet confection. They'd gotten up to some absolutely sinful activities, and yet this suggestion appears to fluster him more than anything else—as if it's a freshly unearthed kink that his fairly inexperienced mind had never thought of before.

It takes a long time to do anything other than stare into Vash's baby-blue eyes with mouth agape. Again, his internal voice hiccups several times as it cycles through potential responses.

I'm, um... I'm always ready to go if it's you. You don't... really have to try too hard to, uh, g-get me going.

And it's true—he's repressed these kinds of feelings for so long; the thought of having sex with anyone had never been one to cross his mind until getting close to Vash. Honestly, he figured it had been beaten out of him. He assumed he was 'broken' for feeling this way.

Then here comes this... man. His mission, his fucking job, was to lead him to his death. Somehow—some fucking how—Vash had gotten close enough for Wolfwood to trust with something so... genuinely terrifying as baring himself, body and soul. He can't help but wonder if the blond knows how big of a fucking deal that is.

... It is hotter if I don't know you're gonna do it though. If it's just us curled up, sleepin', then one of us wakes up feelin' a type of way... Good Lord, Blondie... what you fuckin' do to me...

Wolfwood strokes Vash's cheek with his thumb and pulls him in for a deep kiss followed by a short one. He tangles their fingers together, addicted to the sensation of being connected like this now that he's getting the hang of it, and moves to turn on the shower. Thankfully, it heats up pretty quickly.

It um... What you suggested sounds, um, really hot, actually, but—you need sleep too, you idiot. We're leavin' town tomorrow now that you're all taken care of, right? If we're makin' camp and I hear you tell me you're too tired to help out, you got another thing comin' for you...

There is absolutely no hiding the wave of desire that radiates from him, though. It seems he doesn't actually seem to mind sleeping in. He might even be open to the idea of staying another night if they're too tired in the morning—especially if it means a few more rounds with the blond (as loathe as he is to admit that...).

[vapekingg]

eddie munson x fem!reader

It’s like a fucking skin flick, the scene that you and Eddie create on rainy nights spent in the back of his van.

Windows fogged up, water beating down on the roof above you, Joan Jett playing quietly from the radio up front. Eddie’s all touch on nights like this. All heavy breaths and body language.

He’s long peeled off his clothes, every last article, along with yours, and settled between your thighs. Eddie’s forehead rests at the curve of your shoulder, breath heating your already sweat-slicked skin as his hands explore every inch. He acts like it’s his first time every time, and it never gets fucking old.

“Like that, Eds…” Your nails glide along his bare back, fingers dancing over his flexing muscles like the keys of a piano.

Eddie loves when you talk to him. His hips stutter when you moan his name, forearm bracing his body above yours as he lifts himself up. Not much, just enough for him to pull his lips to yours.

His plush, pillowy lips open against your own, tongues finding each other like moths in the night. Cigarettes, weed, and cherry licorice linger on his mouth. It’s your favorite taste because it’s uniquely him.

Eddie cradles your face in his wide hand as he kisses you, his free palm tracing down your soft body until he reaches your thigh. He wants you closer, wants to be deeper, so he pulls your knee over his hip and slots himself there. His throbbing cock nestling against the back of your cunt, massaging that spot that turns your brain right off.

A slew of curses are muffled by his mouth, and you feel his proud smile grow against your lips.

“That good, baby?” He breathes into you.

It barely registers—his words—but when they do, you know what he needs. Eddie pulls his hips back and fucks into you a single hard, unforgiving time, arching your back off of the makeshift bed.

“Tell me it’s good,” he continues, voice strangled and desperate.

And fuck, is it good. Eddie’s narrow waist fits perfectly between your thighs. He never lets you go without, never allows you to feel unsatisfied even for a second. You were made for each other, combined at the rib for at least these sacred moments.

“So fucking good, Eddie…” your labored words are swallowed by his lips, another snap of his hips against yours.

Eddie moves his hand down your body, cradling your hips in his palms and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. He knows you, better yet, he knows what he’s doing to you. The knot that’s been tightening in your abdomen pulls itself again with each rut, each whimper, every nudge of his veins against your slick walls.

A clap of thunder follows a flash of lightening, and his face is illuminated above you. Bangs dripping with sweat, messy curls tied up into a knot at the back of his head or tucked behind his ears. His cheeks are flushed and mouth ajar, eyes heavy and half lidded.

“Wanna fuck you out here all night,” he sighs, mouth no longer moving with accord from his brain. Eddie lowers his lips to the shell of your ear and breathes.

“Make your folks worry their ass off. They’ll have Hops banging down my uncle’s door by morning, and you’ll still be here coming undone for me.”

You begin to move as one, your hips rolling up to meet his with every downward thrust. It’s frantic, uncalculated and messy. The van around you moves in rhythm with your lovemaking, jarring forward and then sinking back against its tires. It’s all closing in, the walls inside your mind inching closer and closer together as something magnificent builds. If Jim’s red and blue lights were to ruin things now, it might just be catastrophic.

“Need you to give it to me, baby.” Eddie rasps, lips sliding over your collar, chest pressed against yours.

And you’re going to. Every time your eyes flutter open, glitter decorates the corner of your vision. You’re right there, just on the edge of oblivion —

— Until he pushes you over.

With the slightest nudge of his hips, Eddie slots himself against your g-spot. He grinds his waist against your core, pressing himself against your clit and sinking his teeth into your flesh. You feel the heat. Your own body warming beneath him, Eddie’s cum spilling inside of you. His hips stuttered and you’re deaf to the obscenities spilling from your own mouth. All you can hear are his.

All the pet names. All the praise. The whimpering and begging for you to take it all. You’ll take it all for him. You always do.

The come down isn’t as quick.

Eddie’s body heaves atop yours as your mind falls back into place. You’re buzzing, every atom in your body vibrating on a microscopic level.

“I think the rain’s stopped, Eds.” You whisper, but Eddie’s already made himself comfortable with his arms locked around your waist and his head on your chest.

“I’ll drive us back to mine in a minute,” he whispers.

“No, Eddie.” You laugh, fingers combing through his damp locks. “I need to go home, I have a curfew.”

Suddenly, you can breathe. Eddie lifts himself off of you and leans over the front seat, light from the radio illuminating his pretty face.

“Curfew was twenty minutes ago, princess.” He smiles while leaning down again.

If you’re already late, might as well make it count. Right?

[sjyuns]

FREAK LIKE ME — SIM JAEYUN

boyfriend! jake x fem reader 1040 words warning making out partying skinship vampires miniskirt wearing thigh grabbing biting hickies manhandling jake pushes a pendant with his initial into your skin genre suggestive asf fluff at the end mikaela’s note inspired by THIS edit. jake is the hottest man in my life and this is my belated birthday post to him | collection

Jake’s ring clad fingers sit in your thigh, the cold silver contrasting the warmth of his palm. Yet it was the only comforting thing in the room, aside from your boyfriend’s presence beside you, keeping you distracted from the unusual party scene and your uncomfortably short skirt.

You decide to focus your attention on your boyfriend, who’s come to this belated halloween party dressed as a ‘vampire nerd’, or at least that’s what he calls it. And to no avail you’re matching with him as his vampire mate — a bite mark drawn onto the right side of your neck with matching fangs to complete the look.

“Can’t get enough of my vampire look can you, sweetheart?” Jake teases, pulling you closer to him by your thigh. He watches as your curled eyelashes bat, face flushed a shade of crimson — and it ignites something in him, something so raw and animalistic.

The hold you had on him was exactly why he’s so intrigued by you: like a supernatural spell to keep him wrapped around your finger, to get his heart palpitating whenever he just looks at you. Intoxicated. Despite being his exact opposite, he was intoxicated by you.

You hum in agreement, fingers moving to brush his messy hair back. It was well established that Jake was the best looking man you’ve ever seen in your life. His thick lips and tanned skin, lean yet muscular body along with his accent you could listen to for days — and everyone has told him that, yet he constantly seeks your validation like a lost puppy.

“Well, I think you look ravishing as well,” he grins, fangs on display. And you think that he pulls the vampire personality off too well for your liking.

“Makes me want to bite you,” Jake whispers, lips eerily close to your ears as his fingers move along your thigh, leaving a chilling trail. “Here,” he stops, fingers close to the hem of your skirt.

You hold your breath in hot red anticipation as your boyfriend’s fingers move again, up your waist and to the left side of your neck. “Here,” he breathes, voice slightly strangled as he inhales the inebriating scent of your perfume. His fingers gently caressing the skin of your nape as your fingers wrap tightly around his forearm.

He watches you closely as if you were his prey, his silver contacts pulling you in like hypnosis. Jake’s tongue darts out, pressing against his fangs as he eyes your lips and how you involuntarily imitate his previous actions. Your mauve tinted gloss invites him like a moth to a flame and it drives him insane how you wait for him so patiently, hooked onto his every move.

“And here,” he finishes, out of breath. His veiny hands dancing against your skin to your lips, thumb pressing down ever so slightly on it. You tug on the fabric of his shirt, shifting around in your seat before Jake mutters a string of curse words, pulling you up, fingers wrapped securely around your wrist as he leads you out of the house and into the familiarity of his car.

The squeeziness of Jake’s backseat doesn’t distract you one bit, not when you’re straddled over his lap, arms around his neck, with his hands grasping the dip of your waist. And Jake grins, looking up at you in sheer happiness: it’d suddenly hit him that he’s here, with you and his mind goes haywire at the way you look at him.

“You gonna kiss me now baby?” he teases, urging you to make the first move and you move down fast, urgently, as if he was air and you were ten feet deep in water. And Jake has never gotten so lost in a kiss before: his heart keeps missing beats and his hands can’t seem to bring you closer to him. His senses ignite and his skin burns at your touch — as if he was a vampire and you were sunlight. He thinks if this was what it feels like to be burned alive, he would gladly surrender himself to such suffering as long as he could be with you.

Your hands manoeuvre around his back, fingernails grazing as you let out a soft moan. The silence around you explodes and a world of colours appears before your closed eyes.

Jake pulls away, the heat of his breath pounding against your lips before he pulls you back in again. This round it’s slow, as if he has all the time in the world, every thought in his brain stripped out and replaced with you.

you. you. you. you. you.

He groans into the kiss as you shift on his lap, thighs pressing against his as his fangs sink into the pillow of your lips before he kisses down to your collarbones.

Your fingers now wrapped around his luscious brown locks as your head tilts back in ecstasy, brain and heart chanting Jake’s name like a mantra in fervent praise, as if he was their God, their saviour.

Jake thinks everything he’s ever craved for is nowhere near comparable to you. This is what it was to crave — to crave your body against his even though there was no space between you, to crave the sweet taste of your skin and lips not even a millisecond after he’s pulled away, and to crave you: your heart, your mind, your soul.

His mouth skillfully leaves behind a trail of love bites before he flips you over. You back pressed against the seat of the car as Jake hovers over you, his necklace with your initials dangling over you: a reminder of his devotion to you.

Jake leans down to press his lips against the pendant of your necklace — a reminder of your devotion to him. The cursive ‘J’ initial digs into the neck of your throat as he returns, a goofy smile apparent on his face.

“You’re such a freak, sweetheart,” he points out playfully, eyes gazing into yours.

You mimic his grin, teeth out in display as you reply, “but you like it.”

“Like it?” Jake tilts his head, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love it, just like I love you.”

© SJYUNS

[animeyanderelover]

Yay, your recs are open! Hope you're doing great and your health is good :)

This one is pretty dark, so ignore this if smth!

If you know about Tomie, could you do some jjk characters of your choice with a darling with similar powers? Like, she can't die fully, always returns no matter how cruel was her death, and for some reason all non-sorcerers are going crazy after being in contact with her for a some time – and, maybe, at some point even a yandere starts feeling a strange need to cause harm to her. Bonus points if she gives femme fatale vibes, but actually is much sweeter and kinder person than she may look.

Thanks, and have a great day!

I hope you don't mind that I made the darling in here the curse of obsession because this would fit the theme very nicely and would crank the Yandere scale to an incredibly creepy level. I know a bit about her since my best friend is a huge fan of Junji Ito works and she especially adores Tomie and Uzumaki.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death of s/o, murder, mentions of cannibalism, nudity, mentions of dub-con, sexual themes, starvation

The curse of eternal obsession

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Walking through the streets of Tokyo, no human would suspect you to be the cursed being that you are. Instead there is an aura of allure and mystery around you, something that seems to draw them to you like a moth to a flame. Bound to be consumed by the fire. Yet Yuta seems to bring a quick end to your life when he senses your eerie cursed energy. There are no words spared as he attacks you, your calm and beautiful face chilling as he exorcises you as if you have lived through death already multiple times before. Your face is something that seems to be stuck in his mind as it is the thing he sees as soon as he closes his eyes. It agitates him, disturbs him but he tries to calm himself by reminding himself that he has already killed you. Until he meets you again in the middle of the fight as you sit on the ground, surrounded by the blood of two men who have stabbed each other to death. When your eyes meet his own, there is the same serene look on your face as Rika brutally assaults you and Yuta watches how she tears you apart, a lump in his throat.

💍​You should be dead. He watched how Rika murdered you. He even murdered you one time himself. Yet only a few days later you stand in front of him again, greeting him politely before you walk away, your hair swaying in the wind. Yuta can only watch you with a racing heart whilst you disappear in the crowd. A few days later he receives word that a group of friends were found all dead. The police suspects that all of them strangled and beat each other to death in violent ways that are rare to find and his mind immediately suspects you to be the culprit. Whenever you appear it only takes a few days before news about violent deaths and gruesome suicides appear on the news as your mere presence seems to drive non-sorcerers to madness yet he has seen with his own eyes that you seem to possess an immortality unlike anything he has ever seen. To protect the public from your cursed energy, he captures you the next time he finds you.

💍​Yet when he tracks you down he is witness to a violent crime that would have made the average person empty their stomach. Even Yuta can't help the creeping feeling of horror as he watches a woman dismembering you with a saw before she cuts her own neck with the saw until she dies of blood loss. There is a strange sense of fury flowing through his veins as he collects every part of you, his heart clenching when he picks up your head with dull and lifeless eyes yet to his great disturbance even dismembered and dead, you still possess an attractiveness that he shouldn't feel about a violated corpse. He locks all of the parts away from you instantly and stays away from the room you are in to clear his mind and get away from the cursed energy you still seem to produce even in your temporary death. He can't get a wink of sleep that night as his heart never stops pounding nor does he seem to get your face out of his mind. When he gathers the courage the next morning to peek inside the room, his heart tumbles when he sees that you have regenerated and sit there completely naked, the sight of your body sending sparks of arousal through his body before he hurries up to give you something to wear.

💍​He keeps you there, locked inside the basement and stays as far away from you as possible. He has never encountered a curse such as you that has affected him as greatly as you do and he has to fight constantly against the temptation to see you as he finds himself standing in front of the door separating you from him multiple times a day, his nails digging into his palms as he bites his lips until he can taste blood. Even when he is not seeing you, Yuta can still sense the cursed energy of yours that is wrapping itself around his body like a snake and as weeks pass by, he finds himself falling asleep to horrifying fantasies about you that have him waking up drenched in sweat and with a raging boner that only throws him down into a spiral of disgust, shame and insanity. Until one day after roughly three weeks your cursed energy disappears. He should feel relieved about it yet his heart drops with such intense anxiety that has him nearly ripping out the door leading to your room. As soon as he sees your thin and dead body laying on the ground, he feels something shattering as he suddenly bursts out in tears. He starved you to death.

💍​He carries your light and thin body to his own bed and lays you down before he waits. He sits there and waits for hours in agony until your cursed energy picks up strength again and your body regains its healthy and otherwordly beauty. As soon as your eyes flutter open, Yuta's face is the first thing you sees. His heart starts beating with excitement as he tells you that he will prepare something to eat for you before he rushes to the kitchen. It is only after he has prepared the food and serves it to you that he realises what he is doing and for a short moment he feels a spark of hot wrath that you have reduced him to this yet when you open your mouth and he hears your voice for the first time, his anger melts away. It is a soft and sweet sound that echoes in his mind long after you have told him your gratitude for the food. An infatuated smile appears on his face as he watches you eat the food before he asks you if you would like to take a bath. The following days you suddenly get a lot more freedom, although you are still kept within the house but that isn't solely because you are a threat to non-sorcerers anymore. It is also because Yuta feels a possessive yearning to see you whenever he wants.

💍​You are unlike any curse he has ever seen. Not only are you beautiful and gorgeous but you are also soft-spoken, kind and even somewhat shy. You help him with the household as you insist on showing your gratitude by preparing him meals and washing his clothes to the point where Yuta feels like you are his housewife and that image has his heart racing and his body reacting. You insist on sleeping on the couch when Yuta offers you to share a bed with him as you don't want to breach his private space and you reject it until he snaps at you with a frightening look on his face and a tight grip on your arms that could break bones. He instantly withdraws his hands when he regains his sanity and apologises hastily to you with tears in his eyes. He clings to your warm body at night, taking deep whiffs of your scent. Everything about you drives him crazy, the feeling of your skin against his electrical. There is a constant arousal keeping him half-hard at night as temptation grows stronger until he starts dry-humping against your thigh or ass, praying that you are asleep. Until you one night run your fingers soothingly through his hair whilst he is humping, causing him to let out a choked moan as he cums.

💍​Yuta spends weeks on cloud nine as he fully indulges in everything. He treats you like his precious wife as he buys you cute dresses and even gifts you a ring which he insists for you to wear. You never deny him anything as you allow his touchy behavior as he holds your hands, kisses you and eventually even has sex with you and this fuels Yuta's delusion that you feel the same as he does. It is almost sickening how sweet he acts with you. All until one day he crosses paths with an acquaintance who knew someone who came in contact with you and when Yuta finds out that they know about your existance, he suddenly feels a feeling of paranoia about your safety as he suddenly sees this non-sorcerer as a threat to you. He feels the urge to call out Rika but decides to pry for information for now. They open up to him, perhaps because they just want to tell someone who shows interest as no one has believed them so far and the story that they tell him shatters his pretty delusion. They tell him how their dead ex-lover left them for you, abducted you and apparently even had sex with you and how they called them moments before they jumped from a building to tell them in tears that they ended up killing you.

💍​Yuta lets Rika kill that person within the same day as a wrath has suddenly festered inside of him. At first he believes that they are lying because you only love him and you would never allow another person to touch you the same way he touches you. You love him. But when he sees their corpse, a realisation slowly settles in. You are a curse. A curse that has always driven people mad and Yuta is no exception. He's just killed an innocent non-sorcerer. And it's your fault. Disgust, pain and wrath cause him to spiral down violently as he all but storms back to his house to murder you and take revenge on you for deceiving and using him. When he arrives home, he finds you asleep on the couch and for a moment his eyes just take in your beauty as you lay there so innocently before his gaze zooms in on your neck. In the next moment he is choking you, his body on top of yours. Your eyes fly open as you start whining and choking whilst he is watching you with a dark glint in his eyes, taking in with joy your suffering form. Then your eyes meet his own though. No shock, ne fear, no guilt. Instead all he sees inside those orbs is acceptance and pity. You are pitying him.

💍​It is this look in your eyes that throws him off as he lets go and stumbles away from you, staring at you with shock and agitation. Why are you giving him this look?! You don't say anything as you instead just give him a sweet smile that tears his heart open. What kind of monster are you to deceive him even now? You know how much he adores that smile of yours. He's on the verge of crying as he pulls out his katana to dismember you but then he suddenly freezes. His wrath dies down as he stares at the katana in his hands and his eyes widen as he drops it and sinks down on his knees as he suddenly becomes aware of his own horrifying thoughts he just had. He just looks at you for a few minutes before he suddenly bursts out in tears when he seems to realise something. That you never had any choice but allow people to do what they want to do with you. Your own curse brings you as much misery as everyone around you and your immortality forces you to endure it over and over again. You are a victim. He crawls back on top of you and apologises to you whilst his hot tears fall on your face, promises you in between sweet kisses on your neck that he will never harm you again.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​There you are, walking through the streets together with a man following you with infatuated eagerness as he constantly points at stores and offers to blow all of his money on you yet you only shake your head politely. Your cursed energy isn't oppressing nor is it filling the entire area but Satoru can sense how potent it is as he happens to be in the same area as you. He's currently there to buy something for his students when he senses you and blue eyes instantly race over the crowd to detect the source of it. An exceptionally beautiful man himself, even he can't deny your sheer beauty as he finally finds you. He watches as you point to a store selling candy and the man who is accompanying you eagerly nods his head before he rushes to buy you something. You seem to observe him for a while before you turn your head in an inhuman way and your own glowing eyes meet Satoru's as you have recognised his presence as well and want to let him know about it. Your cursed energy spikes and Satoru wonders if he will have to use his Domain Expansion if you decide to attack but you don't seem to plan on doing so as you crack your head back and wait with folded hands for the man to return.

🩵​Something about you is off though, majorly off, so Gojo decides to follow you. You have clearly seduced the man who seems to be on all four for you and Satoru doesn't blame him. You are beautiful and gorgeous as even your cursed energy is tempting but that won't stop Gojo from exorcising you. He is even bold enough to approach you when your victim leaves you alone for a moment to murmur in your ear that you appear quite calm despite the fact that you know that he is following you. You only glance at him briefly and Satoru almost drowns in those enchanting eyes of yours before a loud yelling interrupts him. So lost was he in your gaze that he didn't even notice the man returning. If looks could kill, Gojo would have died thrice now as he can quite literally see the man shaking with rage and for a few seconds Gojo is convinced that he will come for his throat before the man just grabs your hand violently and drags you away. Blue eyes narrow as Satoru waits for a while before he decides to trail after you again. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this and eventually he finds out the apartment where the man apparently lives. He's already standing in front of the door when the commotion suddenly starts.

🩵​Loud screams and wails belonging to the man are heard, crying out your name before they are followed by screams of pain and the shattering of a window. That's when Gojo breaks the door open and the scene he sees inside is not pretty. Shards of a broken vase are stuck in your neck and even your now deformed face and the shattered window is painted with red blood from the now dead man who must have hit his head against it until it broke and he died. Yet Gojo can still sense the cursed energy from you, can almost feel it crawling towards his own body. He watches your bloody form alarmed, something warning him that something truly isn't right with even though he can't figure out what it is. When he notices your fingers twitching and your body twisting, he acts quicker than he can even react as he kills you and senses your cursed energy vanishing completely. A few days later he decides to visit the graveyard of the man as he has for some reason not been able to forget about you. When he senses a familiar cursed energy though, he feels his muscles tensing as this shouldn't be possible. Yet there you are, kneeling in front of the graveyard.

🩵​He is instantly behind you, throwing a shadow over you as his hands linger over your head as if considering to rip it off yet he doesn't as his eyes narrow in confusion and wariness. You are supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive? You lean your head back to look at him and only greet him politely before you arrange the flowers you have brought with you on the man's grave before standing up again and leaving. The white-haired man stops you though as he grabs your arm so tightly that your bone might break as he asks you how you are still alive. You cascade your gaze very shortly down to the ground, seemingly reminiscing about something, before you meet his intense gaze. He could swear that you almost look a bit sad as you merely tell him that you are eternal. You hold his gaze for too long until he feels threatened to get lost in those eyes again which causes him to let go of you. Blue eyes are glued to your form as you walk gracefully away, his eyes roaming over the shape of your body until he can't sense you anymore. Only then does he feel the urge to follow you die down a bit.

🩵​He is almost ashamed of his own lack of self-control when he senses your energy a few weeks later again and the urge to see you again just takes over him. Truth is, he has been thinking about you a lot ever since. Your mysterious words have stuck with him as he has been trying to figure out what you meant and your hypnotising gaze has been following him in his sleep. He is shocked to find you though. Half-naked and with deep cuts littering your skin as you are held down by the neck as the man above you traces a long knife down the curves of your body. Briefly he is reminded of your deformed face and bloody body when he met you for the first time and suddenly rage starts to cloud his vision. A hot wave of jealousy falls over him for the way the man touches you so closely and ire takes hold of him for it looks like he is about ro rape you. Gojo knocks him instantly out, perhaps a bit too strong as blood starts seeping from his head. He quickly offers you the jacket he is wearing to cover your bare upper body with before he grabs your wrist and tells you that you'll come with him. You beg him to call an ambulance for the man before you come with him and Satoru is surprised to hear those words.

🩵​He almost doesn't want the man to receive help but then he snaps out of it and gives you his phone to call the ambulance. It is strange that a curse wants to help a human, especially since that human looked like he was about to sexually force himself on you and kill you at the same time. You are indeed very strange and he finds himself looking at you the entire time out of curiosity and since your beauty is very outstanding. He should kill you but he has already tried this and somehow you just appeared again so he has a feeling that it wouldn't work even if he would try again. He doesn't want to kill you for some reason though. Instead he brings you to his home and tells you that he wants to keep you in here until he has figured out what you are and what to do to you. You give him a silent nod before you ask him if there is anything you can do whilst he keeps you here and this is not what Gojo expected to hear. You really are a peculiar curse. He monitors you very closely the following days as you walk around the house to memorise the interior and every room and whe he realises that you seem to have a love for books, he ends up buying you entire shelves worth of them. The giddy grin you give him has his heart pounding.

🩵​You are well-read and seem to have existed for quite a long time already as far as Satoru can tell from the knowledge you share with him. As much joy as it gives him to see you happy, he starts feeling jealous that you spend so much time reading books. He wants attention, more attention than you already give him. It just isn't enough. It escalates very quickly when you one day ask him to wait until you have finished this book. Only a few pages are left yet somehow those words make Satoru snap as he snatches the book out of your hands and rips it apart. Blue eyes ablaze with agitation yet also a familiar look to you as he bends down so that he is on eye height with you. Hands grab your own harshly, squeezing them as he tells you in a low voice that he despises if you ignore him. You look into his gorgeous eyes, seemingly unfaced from the way he glowers at you before you carefully free one of your hands and reach tentavively out to touch his face. His Infinity is already deactivated, allowing you to touch his face. He lets out a satisfied hum as one of his hands grabs your one touching his cheeks, blue eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

🩵​His Infinity around you is mostly deactivated as he encourages you to touch him as much as he is already touching you. Your touches are warm and addictive and he seemingly can't get enough of them. Often you find yourself trapped beneath him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You sometimes asks him what he plans to do with you as he is a sorcerer and you are a curse yet he always shuts you up, mostly by kissing you to silence all of your sounds. He does know that technically he should find a way to exorcise you or to at least seal you away yet his whole body is filled with rage when he considers it. He has to keep you a secret from other sorcerers under all means necessary. Not only because of their demands but also because he fears that they would desire you too for your beauty and gentle nature. He notices that you never seem to protest or stop him whenever he becomes very touchy and as sick as that is, Satoru finds himself abusing this. Within a short time he is able to fully indulge in his desires as your nude body is pressed against his own, teasing you here and there as he claims you for himself. He has never seen someone more beautiful than you.

🩵​Satoru is almost drunk on you and every word and gesture you do as he is convinced that he would kill anyone who would try to take you away from him. Yet the willingness of yours to let him do whatever he wants with you soon turns into a festering jealousy as he starts wondering if you allowed all the people before him to do everything to you as well. He shouldn't care considering that your curse seems to make people naturally obsessed with you and that he isn't the first and most likely not the last one yet he has already fallen under your spell. His heart threatens to burst as he realises that he will fade whilst you will continue. He won't let anyone else have you after him! You are assaulted by him whilst you are changing clothes, a desperate look in those blue eyes as he begs you to tell him how he can murder you as he tells you about his wish to kill you when his time comes so that no one else will be able to have you after him. When you confess to him that you don't know how you can die, you see the anger and madness flaring up in his eyes as if he is about to attempt to murder you again then and there before he manages to regain his self-control and tells you in a sweet tone that he'll find a way.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[shotmrmiller]

im ngl i've been driving myself insane with the thought of harboring Ghost in your home. Like in the 09 mission The Hornet's Nest where Roach falls off the one roof?

Yeah, make that Ghost and there's no other choice but for the guys to leave him behind. The LZ is too hot, the enemies are swarming like moths to a flame.

The floor comes to him.

He grits his teeth at the agony, choking back a scream. Ghost just fell off a height that should've broken at least a couple ribs; maybe they did, he doesn't know, there's too much adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He's seeing duplicates, the buildings in front of him blurred. There's buzzing in his head, loud like bees. His chest aches, it burns with the lack of oxygen. His throat feels swollen as he wheezes; each breath feels like shards of glass in his lungs.

The white noise dissipates slowly. His vision realigns, lines and details sharpening. The unseen force that squeezed his throat finally lets go, setting him free from its deadly hold., his chest expanding to the point of discomfort— deep inhale, loud exhale.

Breathe. Focus.

There's radio chatter in his ear— Price snarling at Nikolai to fucking wait, that they can't leave him there in the hornet's nest but even with his vision blurred, Ghost can see that they're getting lit up, and he's not gonna have the entire team blow to bits in the helo over him.

He's just one man, and there's a whole world to save.

There's a searing pain in his arm when he shifts, he can't remember the last time his eyes welled up with tears, but fuckin' hell does it hurt.

His hand trembles violently, and it takes him a couple of tries to finally get his thumb to firmly press down on the button of the radio in the front of his tac vest.

"Leave me! Just go!" he roars.

Price argues back that no man is to be left behind, but Ghost can hear far too many voices in a different language get louder. They'll be killed hovering in the air like that.

"Price! Go!"

The voices in his ear are deafening. He rips off his headset, letting it sit around his neck.

The helicopter above him disappears.

Good.

The avalanche of footsteps gets closer and with a strangled noise that scrapes the back of his throat, he moves. Move to safety, get away from them, hide.

Ghost pushes forward until he stumbles, falling onto one knee— using his injured arm to stabilize. White hot pain licks from the wrist up, flames threatening to consume him whole.

A few stray tears escape the corners of his eyes.

He's too blinded by the throbbing in his body to realize that someone is grabbing his other arm.

"Can you hear me?"

Ghost thinks he might be hallucinating your voice. His agony is transcendent.

"Hey! We don't have much time!"

He turns his head to his left, and there you are. A civilian, by the looks of it. And you're trying to lead him away. Where? Are you leading him to a trap?

"Quickly! They're almost here! I can hide you, but you need to get on your feet!" you piped.

Ghost gets up without a fight, decision-making dulled by everything he's feeling.

"Come on, this way!" Your hand grabs his forearm tightly as you drag him away. He trudges behind you, breathing ragged.

Clarity comes and goes, but then he feels your small palms push him forward, into your tiny home.

His eyes drag as he takes in his surroundings. A tiny television in the living room to his left, and an ugly brown couch placed in front of it. To this right is your kitchen, food still steaming on the stove, and a scratched teak dinner table with just two chairs sits by a dirty window.

Quaint.

"Okay, okay. They shouldn't come in here, but if they do, I want you to go to the bathroom and sit in the tub with the curtain closed. Understand?"

His chin tips forward unbidden.

"Good. Uhm, I saw that your right arm is injured. A makeshift splint will have to do, alright?" You briskly walk away, opening the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink.

Ghost stiffens, swallowing thickly. If you pull anything underhanded, he's going to have to kill you.

The tension melts from his shoulders when he sees that you're simply pulling out a first aid kit, and some other stuff to wrap his most likely broken arm up.

You pull out a chair before opening the kit. "Sit. I'm not standing while I do this."

He huffs but complies. "Yes, ma'am." Unafraid to order a stranger around. How peculiar.

The minutes drag on, each one more agonizing than the last. It's a relentless cycle of pain... until it finally stops. The residual pain makes him dry heave.

"Whoa there, please don't puke."

Ghost gives a pained chuckle. "I'll try."

Your fingers tighten the knot in the fabric. "Can't say it's pristine, but it's better than having your arm dangle uselessly, I think." You stare at your handiwork for a second longer, before rising from your seat.

"I'm not sure who you are, but you look like actual military and not a thug with a gun. Did you have a team?" you quietly ask as you put away the medical supplies.

He cuts his eyes to you and doesn't answer.

"Yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be smart of you to blindly give information I don't need to know."

He shakes his head imperceptibly.

"Right. Well, I'm sure you know that we need to lay low, so unfortunately, that means no tv. Sorry." How cheeky.

Ghost simply hums in response.

He looks down at his injured arm. It's wrapped tightly, enough to keep it from moving but not enough to cut off his blood flow.

Not the work of a regular civilian.

You must've noticed him scrutinizing your work because you speak up. "I've worked in the medical field before. Nothing spectacular, but I can deal with a broken bone or two."

He closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the day creep up on him.

So bloody tired.

Ghost takes a breath and opens his eyes. No rest for the wicked, he thinks.

He puts his headset back on, as well as he can with his one arm.

There's a crackling sound in his ear.

[smileymoth]

As much as i harp on etf ronnie being so good, craig also has a rly good voice okay !!!!!!!!!!! ASSHLLEEYYYY BABYYYY

[r0-boat]

Can I request a scenario with the WHB kings? (and any noble/s of your choice if you feel like it)

Them and gn!reader in a cramped space but reader is claustrophobic 🤔 it would've been a spicy scenario with them being smooshed together and all that but reader ain't having fun at all (possibly close to tears or already crying or panicking)

dropping by cuz it's been a while since i've shrimped around your ask box

- 🦐

This is like prime Levi shit...

Motherfucker would force you in his coffin to fuck you But this time we're taking a spin

Naga!whbLeviathan

Cw: noncon, MC is not having it, fucking in a tight space, with claustrophobia, breeding, Levi has two dicks, monster fucking, drugging venom aphrodisiac?

You're so likable... He hates it... And he knows why a pathetic human like you is so irresistible to monsters and your kind alike, as male and females block to you like moths to a bright light.

And here he was, his body aching as you're blissfully unaware of the pain and heat stirring in his belly and loins; he keeps his pain and suffering silent as he watches you laugh and flash your sweet smile at monsters that don't deserve such a privilege.

As his sense of smell heightens, everything that he wants claimed now reeks of tiger, dragon, insect even centaur... The only thing he has left is your closet which he had retreated into your closet,your once neatly fold and hanging clothes in a pile on the floor that is now his nest. Nestling against his coils and your familiar scented clothes rubbing his all over it. Now all he needs is you.

He knew you entered your bedroom He could smell you, as well as a lingering scent of something else something that irritated him. He listened closely as you stepped closer to your closet. Soon as you open that door he pounced grabbing on to you and pulling you into the dark corner rapping himself around you. He was salivating at your soft skin against him.

You for freaking out Your eyes wide as you were dragged into a tight space, having claustrophobia intense fear of small spaces you begged and screamed for Leviathan to let you go. But the Naga only covered your mouth with his hand before peppering your neck with soft kisses.

"I love you human mate with me."He murmured softly ignoring your struggles, another the other night with him This would be a rare moments where he confessed his true feelings of how he felt. But of course you consumed by fear didn't even care as you struggle to fight him struggle to break free which pissed him off.

"smell like animal. And you fight me... Do you not want to be mine? Who else is there that's you have been claimed by? I will claim you, breed you, brand you; make you forever mine."

He snarled his husky words tickling your ear as he begins to rip your clothing to pieces.

You streak and squirm against his coils as he turns you around to laugh up your tears with his tongue.

Even now you fight him... Is it because there's another? Is it one of the other animals stinking up the house? Or is it that human friend that he hates so much. He nuzzles his head into your neck taking in your familiar scent the other scent you have on you so muddled that he can barely recognize who it is. His fangs graze against your neck, gently piercing your skin giving you a dose of his venom. Not much just enough to slow your squirming and make you aroused enough to slide inside you.

"whoever you think your mate is, they do not compare to me."

His fingers play with his sheath as his cocks threaten to come out.

He strokes his cocks in his hand His gray eyes looking at you with love and lust. Every time you struggle he strangles you harder trapping you in tight coils.

"You are squirming more than usual. Do you really hate me that much? No matter, I'll make you mine. It is not your choice to make."

You could feel the venom going through your veins It is cold and makes your skin tingle as your skin becomes more sensitive, despite being trapped in the tight space of the closet and his coils the feeling of smooth scales rubbing against your skin is irresistible. You want to break free to get out but at the same time you want to rub yourself against him more.

With his strong tail he lifts one of your legs up placing it over his shoulder his fingers play with your hole before gently pushing one of his cocks inside.

As much as he wants to, he could not think good conscious rip you apart with his two cocks. He cannot hurt you like that, Even though he is already hurting you, but he does not know of your fear of tight spaces.

He could hear your rapid breathing, You're short rabbit breaths make his shake as the tip of his tail reaches your throat, wrapping it around it to squeeze. That hitch in your breath makes his cock twitch. As he stays inside of you, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

Your tight, squeezing walls make him want to thrust, So he does so, pressing himself deeper inside you. Then, when you moan his name, confirmation that he could go further, that's when he continues, bucking his hips and moving himself deeper his coils constricting and dilating with each thrust but his tail keeping the same pressure around your throat. And his other dick rubbing against you as the other one pounds inside of you deeper and deeper.

Your mind screams at you to get out of his consuming grasp, But your body craves the tight squeeze of his coils.

Leviathan's mind becomes muddled by his consuming heat as he begins to move faster. Grabbing both of your legs folding them over your shoulders too get you in a better position to pound down into you. His breath shakes as he moans a mantra of words

"Mate, mate, mate. Take it, take it, take it, mine, mine, mine, mine."

His cock rubbing against you while his deep inside of you hitting your sensitive spots make you cum, your walls squeezing around him, milking him. The naga's eyes roll back into his head as he cums inside of you with a roar. Yelling and moaning is he grinds himself deeper filling you up to the brim with his seed.

You don't know what happened after that perhaps you passed out, perhaps you fell asleep, and his coils. But when you woke up you were on your bed with him beside you a tail wrapped around your leg. His arms around you nuzzling against your chest, when he noticed you woke up he gave you a sweet smile giving you a small kiss on your skin.

"Morning, my love." He murmured just enough for only you to hear.

The first thing you did when you woke up was beat the shit out of him.

[aayakashii]

1 ❤️fluff Lyca Colt

1❤️ a kiss on the cheek

“Hey.” Lyca nudged you with his elbow as you two scarfed down the lunch you had bought at Sho's food truck.

Lyca was beginning to get used to using cutlery instead of his bare hands to eat, so you could finally relax and focus on your own food during lunch after a few weeks of fretting over him.

“Yeah? What's up?”

He scratched his cheek, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I gotta ask you something.”

You quickly turned to look at him, a bit worried about the serious tone of his voice.

“Okay.” you put your hashi down and offered him your full attention.

“But you gotta promise you won't laugh or think I'm weird!” he pointed at you accusingly, as if you always laughed at him (you did not, but he was still extremely worried about being laughed at).

“You know I don't laugh at your worries, Lyca” you rolled your eyes.

“I know but… I gotta be sure.” he pouted, nose scrunched at the mere thought of you betraying his trust like that.

“I won't laugh. What's worrying you?”

He fidgeted with the end of his hoodie's sleeve, pulling a stray thread from it. You lightly slapped his hand to make him stop so he wouldn't ruin the hoodie's sewing.

The little slap made him flinch and he managed to blurt out what he wanted to say.

“Am I… your best friend?”

You blinked slowly, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Am IIIIII. Your beeeest. Frieeeeeend.” he said it again, elongating the syllables for way too long.

“Where did this come from all of a sudden, Lyca?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was in class and I heard some other people ranking their friends. And they all had a ‘best friend’. So I asked the blonde gigolo what it meant and he said it's the friend you like the most, the one you're always with and someone you like so much you'd help them with anything.”

You nodded, finally understanding his sudden question. “I see, I see.”

“So I asked him if the moth eaten Casanova was his best friend. And he made a face like this” Lyca scrunched his face and stuck out his tongue, imitating what was probably disgust.

“Yeah I imagine he would react like that.”

Lyca shrugged.

“So I wanted to know about you.”

“Did you ask Subaru too?”

“I don't need to” he huffed, puffing his chest “I know I'm his best friend.”

“Oh… but you aren't sure about me?” You crossed your arms.

“Well, you're always hanging out with a bunch of other ghouls and talking to them so I need to know! What if you prefer them rather than me!” he turned his gaze away from you, pouting. His ears and tail popped up as they usually did whenever he felt slightly distressed or nervous.

You stared at his slightly puffed cheeks and his curled down tail, doing your absolute best not to strangle him as the cuteness aggression took over your body. You sighed.

“I can't say you're my best friend, Lyca.”

His head turned quickly towards you, ears flat against his head. He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised your hand so he could let you finish.

“Calm down, I'll explain.” you cleared your throat as he looked at you with heartbroken eyes that almost broke your heart too.

Almost.

“You can't just be my best friend, Lyca.” You shook your head “That isn't enough for you.”

At that, his ears perked and he straightened his previously hunched back.

“What do you mean?”

You began to organize both of your leftovers once you were sure he had your full attention.

“I mean that you are the best boy in the whole world, so you aren't just my best friend. You're my favorite boy. You're leagues above being a best friend.” you winked at him as you finished wrapping up everything.

His cheeks were tinted a light pink, but his face still expressed confusion.

“But then this means I am your best friend, right?” he followed you with his eyes as you got up and stood in front of him.

You sighed.

“Yes. You're my best friend. My best best friend actually.”

His tail began wagging behind him.

“Your best best best friend too?”

You smiled at him and offered your hand to pull him up. “Yes, that too”.

Once he held your hand, you pulled him forward a little bit, making him stumble. His eyes widened as you leaned in and placed a kiss on both of his cheeks.

“My best boy.” you said, squishing his cheeks for a moment and then turning around to walk towards the main building. “Now let's go so we won't be late for class!”

Lyca stood there for a few seconds, dazed, watching you walk further away. His hands touched his warm cheeks.

He didn't really understand it yet, but maybe being best friends wasn't actually enough, just like you said.

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