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whatswrongwithblue · 2 months ago

Note

Reader does actually try to walk off a cliff and Alastor catches them and gets furious and sexy about it and pounds Vexi... I mean reader into the mattress so hard she can't walk anymore and he ends up laughing saying 'let's see you try to do that again now your legs won't work'

Beta'd by @inuhalfdemon

For my darling @redvexillum, I know you're Overtime Vexi right now; working hard on the Discord server, keeping up with daily Kinktober posts, and also literally working an IRL job. This is a no pressure gift to you. Read when you have time and need a little pick me up. I even based Reader off of your avatar on your blog and used language specifically from my favorite fic of yours . . . you know the one *wink wink*.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: suicide ideation, suicide attempt, depression, mental illness, dissociation, possesive Alastor, Alastor owns Reader's soul, sex as punishment, angry sex, oral (fem receiving), p/v sex, shadow tendrils/tentacles, bondage, use of a gag, overstimulation, lack of aftercare, begging, dom/sub dynamic.

Falling

The warm night breeze ghosted through your hair; a gentle lover’s caress across the back of your neck. It calmed your nerves as you looked down at the drop below and you closed your eyes, thinking you could almost hear the wind telling you to take that final step.

Just one little step.

A few seconds of falling.

Then darkness. Nothing. Peace.

The wind kicked up a little harder, fanning out your wings, and nearly making you lose your balance. You gasped and flailed your arms, catching your balance before you fell.

A stupid lingering human instinct to save yourself. Your body’s nervous system fighting against what your mind desperately wanted.

You took a deep, steadying breath in, and tucked your wings in. They were tiny; pink and membranous things that seemed more for aesthetic than any kind of purpose. It’s not like you could fly with them. They were no more useful than your asymmetrical horns when it came to that skill only very few Sinners were lucky enough to have. And they weren’t even very demonic looking, as far as demon appendages went. Both your horns and your wings were pink, slightly darker shades than the pastel of your skin and hair. Even your fucking irises were pink.

While you quite loved pink as a human, it just felt insulting down in Hell. Like every other aspect of your demon visage. Useless. Infantile. Boring.

Nearly making you fall to your death by being caught in a sudden gust of hot air was the only favor your wings had ever done for you.

Not that you would permanently die, you lamented. Eventually you would re-spawn somewhere within the city. But re-spawning took hours, sometimes even days. And in that time would be nothing. When you were alive you always joked about wishing that you could just take your brain out of your skull, like a temporary death, just to quiet the awful thoughts and feelings your malfunctioning organ plagued you with day and night.

Here in Hell, you could actually do that. Again and again, if you so chose to.

All you had to do was jump.

Maybe it wasn’t worth it. When you came back, Alastor would certainly hunt you down and find you. And you could just see the disappointment in his face. Hear the disgust in his voice. How lowly he would think of his darling then, that she would perform such an empty and pathetic act.

But then again, he was going to find out who you were at your core eventually. Better to rip the bandage off and make him face just how truly damaged you were before you continued to waste his time further. He was bound to get tired of pulling you out of your depressed funks after enough time had gone by. And what good did you bring to his life anyway?

You were a distraction.

He had snapped that to you earlier that evening when you had interrupted his work at the hotel. Those last stinging words echoed through your mind, branding themselves into your grey matter so that you never forgot them.

Well, you wouldn’t be distracting him anymore after this stunt. He wouldn’t bother with you afterwards.

And if you found you really did enjoy the nothingness that came between death and re-spawning, the extermination wasn’t far away. All you had to do was stand in front of an exorcist and simply not move as they brought their blade down on you. Then it would truly be an eternity of peace and quiet for you.

No more distractions.

The thought came to you bitterly as you considered that Alastor was the one who had been distracting you. All these months of his attention, of him making you his darling, of him making you fall in love with him, had just distracted you for a while. But now the pain was back, worse than ever, with one small argument between you two and you realized if it wasn’t for him, you likely would have jumped off this roof months ago.

You could have let it all go during the last extermination, while everyone else was huddled safely inside the hotel.

What a waste of time. A useless, boring, distracting life.

A deep breath. A single tear sliding down your cheek. A last thought of warmth and safety whispering through your mind . . .

“Alastor.”

His name left your lips like a prayer and an apology.

You took a step over the ledge.

The street below became your entire field of view as you lost your footing entirely.

And then the world glitched.

Colors blended in choppy formation and static screamed in your ears, threatening to burst your ears drums. Everything was fuzzy and going dark and a strange tingling filled your body, like your very blood had turned to static.

And then you were back on your own two feet, standing face to chest with the red and black pinstriped suit you knew so well.

Unnaturally large claws had you by the shoulders and you tilted your head up, taking in the full view of a very angry Radio Demon.

Alastor towered over you, his antlers spread wide, his eyes turning like radio dials, and he lifted you up like you weighed nothing until you were face to face and your feet were dangling several feet in the air.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, his voice even more full of static than you were used to.

Your eyes went wide at the use of vulgarity from him. You could count with your two useless wings how many times you had heard him swear before and never had it been directed at you.

When you didn’t answer right away, he shook you, calling you by your real name rather than darling, which he never did. He demanded an answer but all you could manage was a little whimper before you broke.

Your chin quivered and you felt the swell of tears in your eyes as a sob squeezed your chest and erupted out.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out and then slowly, ever so gently, you felt yourself being lowered to the ground and then your face was pressed against the soft fabric of Alastor’s suit. His bow tie tickled the side of your face and his scent, heady with Spanish moss and cypress, and some other uniquely Earthy smell that was entirely him, filled your senses.

“Darling,” he said quietly, “my darling . . . why?”

You could barely breath through your sobs, let alone speak, so it took you a moment to gather the strength to answer. Clutching at the back of his jacket, you pressed your face into him harder, trying to hide your reasoning, bury your shame, pretend like every pathetic part of you didn’t exist.

But he had seen, hadn’t he? He had watched you take that step, had come up here to find you and seen that final microsecond when there was nothing but air between you and the ground below.

And he had altered reality to bring you back to him. To save you.

Half of you hoped that meant he really did love you like you loved him. Like he promised every day that he did, even though you never quite believed it.

The other half of you whispered an insipid little lie that was too tempting to not consider . . . that this whole stunt of yours was just another distraction.

“I don’t want to be a bother anymore,” you finally whispered, hiccupping and choking as you struggled to speak.

Alastor went stiff around you, and you thought then that he would finally push you away. Agree that you really were just a bother. That if he were to ever shackle himself to another soul, it certainly wouldn’t be to such a weak little wretch as yourself.

Instead, his long, clawed fingers grasped you by your chin, forcing you to look up at him. And though his expression was often hard to read, the strain in his smile showed anger while the burning in his ruby eyes showed pain.

“What gave you the idea that you could do such a thing? That I would allow it?”

“Wha . . . what?”

“You’re mine now, darling.” He pulled on your chin, forcing you on tip toe as he brought your face closer to him. “You belong to me and I don’t let what belongs to me just fly away. It seems you have forgotten that.”

His claws were digging into your cheeks and along your jaw line, stinging and threatening, even as he brought his lips down and gave you the gentlest kiss on the forehead.

“Perhaps I need to remind you of that,” he whispered to you, his voice low and tender, crackling with a passion you couldn’t misplace. He was angry, you realized, oh yes he was furious with you. But as the world went fuzzy once again, and you felt the familiar sensation of melting into shadow, and your soul blended with his, you could literally feel that burning rage inside of him being twisted and morphed into more direct emotions. Lust and desire filled what was left of your identity as Alastor transported you through the ceiling and walls of the hotel and into your room.

Now this was flying.

Alastor had sat you at the foot of your bed, making quick work of removing your underwear, lifting your pleated skirt above your hips, and kneeling before you, all before you had come down from the bizarre and disorienting high of being nothing but shadow with him.

Now you were reduced to a shell of a person, thoughtless and detached from your feelings and in the best of ways, as Alastor’s tongue made your nervous system aware of nothing else but the bundle of nerves between your legs.

Your knees were resting on his shoulders and already shaking as his tongue twisted and lapped at your clit, occasionally giving the swollen pearl a hard suck, as two fingers pumped into your core, working to pull a second climax from you.

Distantly you were aware of the flutter of your wings; a helpless reflex, along with the tremble of your legs. Tears streamed down your cheeks, though you paid that no mind either. Even if you had noticed them, you wouldn’t be able to place which emotion was drawing them from your eyes.

You only knew that this feeling; the intense physical sensation of Alastor turning you into a whimpering, wanton mess, allowed you to dissociate in the best of ways and everything that had tormented you to the point of standing on that cliff’s edge was completely forgotten.

The fingers of one of your hands wrapped themselves in a white-knuckled grip around his antler while your other hand found purchase in his red locks and you sobbed out his name as you came again.

Just as your walls began to clench, Alastor pulled himself from your clutches, leaving your cunt to clench needfully onto nothing. The abrupt lack of touch right at the beginning of your orgasm was torture and in his absence you pressed your legs together, searching for any friction that would allow for a fraction of the satisfaction his tongue and fingers should be giving you.

“Now, now, dear,” Alastor tutted, and you felt your legs forced back apart. “Remember, I’m here to make a point. And that point is . . .” You looked down to see tendrils of shadows spreading your legs farther open, tangling themselves around your thighs and hips. “. . . You’re mine.” He began undoing the top of his trousers. “And any rash decisions,” he pushed his trousers down below his waist, “like trying to jump off buildings,” he pulled his cock free and you salivated at the sight of its red and swollen tip already weeping pre-cum for you, “or pleasuring yourself without permission,” he leaned over you, his tense and wicked smile inches away from your lips as his took a painful fistful of your hair, “will be met with severe punishments.”

You swallowed, daring to meet his eyes with your own submissive, watery ones, and nodded.

“There’s my darling I know and cherish,” he said sweetly. His fingers left your hair and traced along your jaw until they came to your lips.

“And now that we’re at an understanding,” he snapped his fingers and your clothes vanished, “let’s see how well you can take your punishment.”

His cock thrust into you as black tendrils slithered their way up the rest of your nude body, pinning you in place. They teased and stroked every erogenous zone with lovely tenderness, their touch soothing and affectionate even as they forced you to near absolute stillness. In stark contrast, Alastor pounded into you, stretching you to the point of burning and igniting the still burning embers of your last orgasm that Alastor had left unfinished.

You came within seconds, your walls spasming hard against the fat width of his cock. Alastor drove on as if he hadn’t noticed, deep enough to hit the blind end of your depths with every forward thrust. The bruising combination left a dull cramp in your belly as your climax went on for several more moments, an intense combination of pleasure and pressure.

After the quaking within your core subsided, you went limp within the clutches of the shadows. Three orgasms as intense as the ones you had just experienced were more than enough to placate your mind and body and your teary eyes now began to droop with sleepiness.

And yet Alastor was clearly not finished with you.

“Alastor,” you pleaded, knowing he still hadn’t come but you intended to beg for him to be a little gentler with you until he had. Instead of letting you speak, however; a tendril that had been near your throat laced itself through your open mouth and synched itself around your head, effectively gagging you.

The only response you got from your lover was an angry red glow of his eyes as they narrowed onto you, before he gripped your thighs with his claws and continued on with his brutal pace.

Too much, too much, too much, you internally screamed, a fresh torrent of hot tears burning down your cheeks. Your teeth sunk into the meat of the tentacle between your lips and you strained against the ones holding your wrists down to the bed.

The brutal pace of your punishment went on for several more minutes; an eternity for your overstimulated sex. Everything between your ribs and your thighs burned and ached from the ceaseless, intrusive rhythm of Alastor’s body against yours. Inside and out, he continued to savagely ravish you, until there was nothing else for you to do but begin to silently cry and take the punishment he was dolling out.

Alastor pulled out of you with a suddenness that both relieved and confused you. Your throbbing cunt ached from what it had just been through but as your eyes met his, you felt an emptiness within you. Still wrapped in tentacles, you glanced down at his glistening cock before you looked back up at the sharp tooth smile on the face of the man that you feared and loved above all else.

He still looked as pissed off as ever but there was a softness at the corner of his eyes that hinted at concern and you knew him well enough to know he was worried he might have taken things to far.

As you felt the shadow tentacles begin to loosen around you, you felt a emotion so long-forgotten you almost didn’t recognize it.

Confidence.

And with that thought, you wordlessly turned yourself around until your lay on your belly, exposing your backside and the tiny pink wings you knew Alastor loved to play with whenever he was angry.

A moment came and went and you were just beginning to wonder if you had misread the owner of your soul. You opened your mouth to speak his name once more but before you could utter a syllable, you felt your arms yanked back by the wrists and a powerful tendril wrap around your throat, holding you face down into the mattress.

The shadows that were still around your hips tightened and forcefully lifted your ass into the air and you braced yourself a second before Alastor’s cock slammed back into you, filling you back up to completion and eviscerating that feeling of emptiness.

Tired and spent as you were, you moaned aloud and squeezed his member with every last bit of strength you had within your spongey walls.

You felt the long, slow drag of his retreating cock sliding against every sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you before another snap of Alastor’s hips had it rocketing back into you.

“Say it,” he commanded and you shuddered with your whole body, knowing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m your darling,” you replied, breathless and yet moaning again as he rewarded you with another thrust.

“And?”

“I belong to you.” He matched this thrust with a gentle stroke of a shadow across the membrane of one of your wings. “Mmmmmm, more,” you begged, as your wings gave a tiny, involuntary flap at the feather light touch.

But he had stilled behind you, waiting for your needfulness to build until you were begging.

“Please,” you sobbed out, feeling your chin quiver as all the emotions of the night came rushing back to you. “I’m sorry, Al’. I’m so sorry.”

As you spoke, the touching of your wings and the powerful movement of his cock began anew. You blabbered on, afraid if you stopped talking, the pleasant sensation of his touch within you and above you would end.

“I love you. I’ll never leave you. I’ll never even think about leaving you ever again. Not in anyway. Not even when your angry with me. Not even when I hate myself. Because I’m yours and I’ll always be yours. I’m so sorry, Alastor. Please don’t stop. Please, you feel so good. Fill me up, love. Because I’m your darling and I’ll be good from now on, please just fill me up. I’m your good girl and I love you and I want to feel you inside me. Please, please, oh God Al’, you feel so good, I’m – I’m – I-”

With a painful pull on your wrists you felt all the way into your shoulders, you felt him spill his seed within you as his body tense and every shadow of his went impossibly taut around you. The heat of his cum burned your walls and spilled down your inner thighs, coating you and marking you as his, and you came along with him, screaming into the sheets. Every tendril bruised into your skin, leaving marks around your throat, breasts, wings, hips, and thighs, as Alastor lost all control, even as he continued to pound into you with an uneven and desperate pace.

Everything blurred as you came down from the high together. You felt your muscles turn to jelly and give out in the final moments of your climax, just in time to feel Alastor finally still and begin to soften before he pulled out.

After several serene moments had gone by, the sheets beneath you began to move and pull away. As if in a dream, you felt your body being moved up the bed and then Alastor’s weight joined next to you as you were tucked into bed. Without being cleaned and without a word of praise or love, which he usually included in an aftercare routine for you.

But you knew, deep within the fog of your exhausted mind, that you deserved this. You would wake up in the morning marked by the bruises and the sticky mess between your legs, and only then would you be allowed to shower and heal yourself.

“Thank you,” you murmured with closed eyes as he finished tucking you in. “I don’t think I can move after that, let alone walk.”

An amused, deep chuckle came from Alastor before he pinched your cheek hard enough to make your eyes snap back open.

He got up from the bed, now fully dressed, and straightened his bow tie and monocle before marching towards the door with a pleased and arrogant look on his face.

“Good, my darling. That’s good. Let’s see you try to pull that nonsense again now that your legs don’t work. Sweet dreams,” he added as he opened the bedroom door and gave you one last warning smile before he slammed the door behind him, hard enough to knock a few decorations off the walls.

You sighed as you heard a lock clicking into place, knowing his point was made, and that he was still very much angry with you. But the storm had passed, for both of you. You relaxed into the soft pillow and closed your eyes, the first smile in days touching your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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I Want To Be Your Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never thought that he could fall for a Pogue, but the Goddess in front of him might change his mind.

A/N: This is a prequel to I Want To Be With You and requested by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

When he first saw her, he thought she was the most beautiful Kook he had ever seen. The lavender silk Prada shirt she is wearing crops just above her belly button. It reveals a delicious sliver of her stomach that he just wants to rest his hands on. The recognizable double G of her creamed colour belt displays the girl’s financial status. But as Rafe’s eyes trail down to her pants, confusion crosses his features. The black jeans she wears are distraught with holes in a fashionable manner, yet, he doesn’t recognize the brand and the material looks too cheap to be a brand name. Her shoes also don’t match the top half of her outfit as the white Sketchers look so worn out that it had to be done because she can’t afford new ones and not because of aesthetics.

Sarah and the rest of the Pogues joining his Goddess help put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. His sister is known for her love of sharing her clothes with her Pogue friends, so the Goddess in front of him must be a Pogue. Unlike Sarah, Rafe would never associate himself with Pogues unless they were working for him. Yet, the concern she shows for JJ over a bleeding cut on his forehead from falling down makes Rafe realize he doesn’t care that she lives on the wrong side of the island. She lets out the most amazing laugh he has ever heard and he has to be the one that makes her smile. He makes his way over to talk to her, but Kiara stops him in his tracks.

“Don’t even think about it. She is too good for you,” she warns him away. He tries to sidestep her, “Come on, Kiara. Let me talk to her.” The girl shakes his head and turns him away. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the goddess, so he walks away in defeat. Throughout the night, he tries to talk to her and is intercepted by the other Pogues.

——

For weeks he has been trying to talk to her, but every time a Pogue is there to stop him. At least he learnt her name. Y/N Y/L/N, the name of a goddess. He is sent by his dad to pick up something to eat at The Wreck and this is when he sees her next. She is whipping down a table on the far side of the room, which makes him switch course toward her. JJ spots Rafe’s new direction and runs into his path with a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t let you near her.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Pogue,” Rafe spits out, standing up straight so the small height distance looks a little bigger. JJ wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand to try to hide his chuckle, “When it comes to her, I can. Now, as the French say, arrivederci.” Rafe is going to argue more, but the call of his name for his order pulls him away from the blonde.

——

It felt like fate when he got to the coffee shop to see her hunched over a notebook by herself. He looks around the store to check that she really is alone and no other pogue is in sight. He grins at this new revelation, sliding himself across from her in the booth. “I’ve been trying to introduce myself for weeks. I’m Rafe,” he sticks his hand out for her to shake. She brings her hand to his and he notices that although they are calloused, they are still supple, “I know your name silly. And I know you know that you have been trying. My friends don’t keep things from me.”

“Right, so you’ve just been making me chase after you on purpose.”

“You know, Rafe, you are the one with the name that means counsel of the wolf in Old Norse. I’m starting to see that it is a pretty accurate name.”

“You are just as smart as I thought you were because I have no idea what you mean.”

She finds his honesty cute, “I’m saying that wolves are predators and you have been chasing after me like a pray for weeks.” He likes that she isn’t condescending when she explains the joke to him. “Ahh, I totally understood that. Please, keep blessing me with your wisdom.”

——

Rafe has been talking and texting Y/N for a month now and he is finally convinced they are not going to be caught hanging out together by the other Pogues. This means he is finally going to ask her to go steady with him because he is assured they can go on a date without being caught. She stares at her TV show while his head is resting on her thigh near her stomach. He is between her legs and his focus is on his phone. “Y/N,” he catches her attention. “I want to be your boyfriend.” His tone is practically begging her to say yes. She looks down at him with a soft smile and her fingers lace through his hair. “Rafey, I would love for you to be my boyfriend. But I don’t think there is going to be much of a difference in our relationship,” she confides, twirling his hair between her fingers.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you can get any more clingy than this, Rafey.”

“True, but there is something I can start craving more than your touch, Baby”

He lifts his head off her thigh and brings himself to hover over Y/N. He gives her a peck before moving in to deepen the kiss. His hands find the buttons of her shirt as he begins kissing his way down her neck. Forget about her laughter, her moans are the most amazing thing he has ever heard.

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squiddy-god · 6 months ago

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blindfold (giyuu

Ngl I still like this one, this is a re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, I would like to say that despite the vampire aesthetics I don't bite and you should 100% chat, anon is always on! It honestly motivates me to write and restore more!

CW : smut, fem reader, wife! Reader, angst if you squint a little, piv (probably missing a few but this is old AF)

Giyuu had never really liked himself much, never thought himself good enough. He was shocked when you had said that you felt the same about him, that you loved him back. He often found himself thinking back on that day and smiling, even if only slightly.

But now it had been 2 years together and your anniversary was coming up. Giyuu had surprisingly planned out the entire day for just the two of you. First he’d wake you with gentle kisses so that you could cook together, then hed spend the day by your side, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you as the both of you finally got to relax. He’d take you out for lunch and go back to cuddling with you and in his own way, smothering you in gentle affection. Then finally, when night comes and the sun is long forgotten, he’d get to the part he was most anticipating and also dreading. Sex. You had done it before but it was still something giyuu was ever so slightly insecure about. Being exposed and vulnerable, his emotions on display and his body so intimately entangled with yours was not something that came easily to the water pillar. As much as he loved your beautiful (e/c) eyes, he couldn’t stop the voice in the back of his head telling him that those eyes we’re judging every fiber of his being. Giyuu knew that your (e/c) irises were filled with love and adoration but his insecurity plagued him like a disease. However tonight he had a plan, a simple plan but a plan none the less and he hoped you’d like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Feeling giyuus soft lips place a firm kiss to your temple brought a smile to your face. You rolled over in his arms and giggled as you kissed the side of his mouth knowing he was smiling.

“Mmmmm good morning love” You yawned finally opening your eyes to gaze at his cloudy blue irises.

“Good morning” He said pulling you closer to him.

“Happy two years giyuu~” You smiled up at him with nothing but love in your eyes.

Giyuu smiled and kissed the crown of your head. “Happy two years, I love you (y/n)” It was quite, almost a whisper of his normally silent adoration and love.

“Hmmm? Someone’s talkative today” You chuckled teasingly feeling him hide his face in the crook of your neck. “We should get up” He mumbled. You humed in agreement and begrudgingly left the comfort of giyuus arms in favor of makeing breakfast together.

Good, giyuus play was going perfectly so far, but he was still slightly tense. How was he going to bring it up to you, he was racking his brain with a scowl on his face as he cooked alongside you.

“Giyuu? Are you alright? You look tense”

He shook his head and sighed “I’m fine, don’t worry. ” He said as he continued cooking.

“Alright love, but just know you can tell me anything” You gave him a quick peck on his cheek and finishing up breakfast.

After eating the two of you sat in the living room of your shared house. You were in giyuus lap with his arms wrapped around you tightly, you leaned into his chest and played with his long messy hair. You often found yourself like this when you both had the time. Being demon slayers was stressful and if felt nice to simply enjoy a comfortable silence, you knew giyuu stressed and worried when you went on missions, he knew you were more then capable but he didn’t want to lose you. So as often as he could he made shure to give you silent affection, his favorite was being able to hold you in his arms.

Your day had gone great with giyuu, you didn’t expect him to take you out for lunch but it was a welcome surprise. So here you were once again in giyuus lap but something wasn’t quite right giyuu seems tense and unusually fidgety as the sun started to set. Giyuu was getting progressively more anxious and he watched the sun set, he could do this, he fought demons dammit asking his girlfriend something so simple shouldn’t be a problem.

Shifting you slightly so you were straddling him he let one of his calloused hands rest on your hip as the other took it’s place at the back of your head pulling you down for a deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Giyuu ran his tongue along your bottom lip asking for entrance. You denied him playfully and smiled when you felt his displeased expression. Relenting you opened your mouth and immediately felt giyuu deepen the kiss exploring your mouth and pressing you further against him. You shifted to grind slightly on giyuus growing hard on. He groaned slightly and pressed back before his hand left your head to grip your thigh. Not breaking the heated kiss he picked you up with ease and carried you your shared bedroom. Laying you down giyuu finally allowed himself to break the kiss.

“I… I want to try something…please” His dark blue eyes looked almost pleading as he stared down at you.

“Hmm? Alright shure… What is it you want to try? ” Wordlessly he got up and moved to retrieve something from his bedside table, giyuu pulled out a small strip of cloth and walked back over to were you now sat on your shared bed. Bringing it up to your eyes he tied the blindfold gently around your head.

“Oh! Is this all you wanted to do giyuu? Haha you seemed so tense~” You teased and brought him in for another kiss.

He wasted no time striping the both of you, and just as he thought, he felt much better with you blindfolded. Giyuu pushed you back onto the beding and begun his asult on your neck and collarbone. He started to trail open mouth kisses along the side of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking to leave dark red hickys in his wake. One of his rough hands met your chest and squeezed your breast rolling and flicking your bud between his fingers. His trail of kisses and marks continued to get lower and lower until his mouth came to give your other breast some much needed attention. His hand gripped and needed your thighs. You moaned and panted as your fingers tangled in his messy hair.

“Ahh! G-giyuu” You felt his mouth leave your breast and return to your neck as he no doubt left another deep red mark. His lips met yours once again and swallowed your breathy moans. You squeak as you feel his calloused thumb rub circles on your clit. You felt him nip at your ear and another finger run along your dripping entrance. Dipping in one of his fingers another soon followed. You moaned and squirmed beneath him as his finders curled and ran along your walls. He continued to work your dripping cunt before adding another finger and stretching you out as gently as he could. You felt extra sensitive because of the blind fold blocking once of your senses and even though you couldn’t see, you could feel giyuus intense gaze watch as his fingers delved in and out of you, now covered in your arousal and slick. You wined slightly when he removed his digits from your acheing core, but this was short lived when you felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance. Finally giyuu slowly pushed himself into you, buried up to the Hilt he groaned as he felt your walls squeeze around him. He waited a moment for you to adjust before he felt you hips buck slightly, a silent que to move. He pulled out almost all the way, just until the tip of his length was still inside of you, before he slammed back into you going as deep as he could and pressing you into the bed slightly. Your back arched and you moaned his name like a prayer and his relentless pace continued. It was slightly faster then normal, as he hamered into you. You felt your stomach grow hot and a knot form in the pit of your gut the more giyuus deep thrust rubed against your walls. Low grunts and the occasional groan were muffled against your neck and shoulder as giyuu attempted to silence his growing moans by leaving a trail of marks and open mouthed kisses. You assumed his left arm was holding him up as your legs wrapped around his waist. His right hand whent down to rub and play with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“F-fuck giyuu! Ahh! S-so close” You moaned out feeling the knot in your stomach tighten and threaten to snap, and by the twitching of his cock giyuu was close behind you.

You couldn’t form sentences anymore, attempting to speak only lead to moans and choked out syllables of his name as his pace continued. He was close as well, his cock twitched inside you at the feeling of your soft walls clenching squeezeing his length as though it was trying to pull him deeper into you. He felt your legs spasm as shake around his waist as your pussy squeezed him tight, pushing himself into you as deep as he could he felt your juices flow around his throbbing member and soon thick ropes of cum were shot deep inside of you. Giyuu gave a rather loud groan at the feeling of filling you.

Giyuu was still hard inside you when he pull out. You could feel his cloudy eyes burn holes into your dripping sex as he watched his seed leek out of you. You squirmed under his intense gaze and felt him lean down to your ear.

“Hmm? You seem eager tonight? Is it that you like not being able to see? ” He asked, but before you could awnser touch were flipped over onto all fores with your ass in the air. Giyuu made sure to tighten the blindfold before threading his fingers through your hair and pushing you down so your back was arched. You let out a wine and heard giyuu give a low groan.

“You’re so good to me (y/n), you’re mine. I love you” His voice was a low whisper as he pressed his still hard shaft into your dripping entrance.

You tried to move your hips back to cause more friction but giyuus strong hands held you firm in place. Once again pulling out almost all the way he pushed back into you hitting far deeper then before. His pace continued with deep rough thrust just above an average pace, you were still a moaning mess as the slight curve of his shaft hit the warm spongy spot deep in your core. You cried out his name in breathy moans as he began picking up speed, he started grinding up slightly when his thrusts connected with your lush backside. His grinding on your sensitive bundle of nerves had you unraveling beneath his toned arms. Tears slightly stained the blindfold from over stimulation as your legs started shaking, drawing close to another climax.

Giyuus thrusts continued to gain speed as his composer slipped, his breath was becoming more and more ragged as he continued to pound into you, his hands griping the soft flesh of your ass and thighs tightly. A low but rather loud moan emited from giyuus throat as he felt heat coil in his stomach sending hot throbbing pulses through his cock. Your soft wet walls cluched onto his length and your body shaked from the pleasure that ripped through you. With a few more deep thrust into your quivering cunt giyuu sheathed himself in side of you as deep he could before hot ropes of cum stuffed you full. He panted and caught his breath for a second before pulling out and laying you on top of him.

It was quite for a long moment, nothing but your ragged breaths and the sound of giyuus heart beat. It was quick and rapid in his chest, almost like it was trying to break free from its hold within his chest. Strong arms wrapped around your waist as he gently removed the blind fold. He brought you closer to him and encased your lips in a passionate kiss, when he pulled away there was a faint smile on his face. His eyes were unusually soft as he looked at you with nothing but love and respect in his dark blue eyes.

“I love you (y/n), so, so, so much. Please, never leave my arms. Don’t leave me. ” The last sentence came out as a almost silent whisper. You smiled down at him and let your head rest on his chest.

“Hmm, wouldn’t dream of it Tomioka, I love you. ”

#giyu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu smut #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny smut

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cripplecharacters · 9 months ago

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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it.

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia.

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred.

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic.

It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.

You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up.

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are?

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask?

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns.

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it.

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)

Mod Sasza

#mod sasza #disfiguremisia #face difference #mask trope #writing trope #writing resource #writing reference #writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #long post #burn survivor representation

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amorvincitomnia-claire · 7 months ago

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"Forgotten Anniversary" – Diluc, Genshin Impact

Pairing/Characters: [ Diluc x GN!Reader ]

Tags: Angst, (married) established relationship, hurt/comfort, neglect, alcohol (slight)

Word Count: 1.3k words

Summary: “You forgot about our anniversary again, do we even matter to you anymore?” – Imagine Diluc as your husband of 4 years. He’s never failed to celebrate your anniversaries when you two started dating; always giving you gifts, doing anything to make you happy on your special day – But he hasn’t done any of that for the past two years, does it even matter to him anymore?

a/n: I'm sorry for taking so long to post! This is my very first posted fic so I'm a bit nervous but I had a lot of fun writing this <33 I'll be posting some prompts to better help some requests soon! I'll also post more works soon <33 (hopefully)

also i'm very much aware of the stark contrast of this post to my blog's aesthetic (and im sorry) but it's diluc so here we are

⊱┊ ·˚ ༘ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ + ꒰ request guide ꒱ !!

Imagine being married to the wealthiest man in Mondstadt, Diluc Ragnvindr. In the past, before your marriage, he would always celebrate your anniversary. You had always felt that it was a special day, and he made sure to pamper you with all his affection and love, and especially with gifts. He was a wealthy man, and he could afford to spoil you with numerous expensive gifts.

Thinking of anniversaries with Diluc always produced the same things in your mind: expensive jewelry, fine wine, beautiful roses, and the most affectionate man you’ve ever met. It was his way of celebrating the day, as it was another year added to your love for one another. He had always assured you that the day would always be special to him, and he would forever be grateful for the bond and love the two of you shared.

As time passed, a few years after the marriage, the two of you started to be more independent and occupied with your own lives, especially with Diluc and his busy winery. His business grew and required more of his time, stealing away the hours he could’ve shared with his spouse. He was often stressed and exhausted with work, so when he came back to his chambers where his wife waited, he had no energy for anything other than rest.

You noticed this early, two years into the marriage. His winery was growing, and he gradually became busier, spending less time with you at night and even less time with you during the day. On a good day, he might be able to eat breakfast with you. When you were lucky, he might even have the time to have dinner with you. But that was it, right? You couldn’t help but feel lonely, going to bed alone as he came home at later hours. When he was home early, he did nothing but sleep. And on your first, then second wedding anniversaries, his gifts and celebrations were significantly less than before. A flower bouquet left for you and given to you by the maid, or a few boxes of gifts left for you on the bed in the morning. At the time, you decided that it was better to understand him. You knew that he was a busy man, and you couldn’t blame him for the lack of thought. Still, you felt neglected.

Then the day of your third wedding anniversary came. It was clear now that he was a busy man, with very little time to spare for himself — so you were going to take things into your own hands. You wore the black dress he had bought for you a few years back, decorated the bedroom with flowers, and had written a love letter for him, sealed with an elegant red wax seal. Two wine bottles and two wine glasses were set out for the two of you. You had told him about your plans a few nights back, when you waited for him to come home. He had told you that he would surely be there, and promised to make time for his beloved wife. There you were, sitting patiently in the quiet confines of your shared bedroom, waiting for your husband to arrive. The clock went on and eventually ticked past midnight. He didn’t arrive. You tried to understand him, but the feeling of loneliness and neglect weighed heavily on you. Tears unknowingly streamed down your cheeks as you took off your makeup and jewelry. You took one bottle of wine, skipping the glass and drinking straight from it. One bottle of wine emptied within the hour, and then the next bottle.

You woke up to urgent apologies from Diluc, and he showered you with kisses and pleas of forgiveness. He muttered an excuse here and there, and told you that he would make up for it and never forget about your anniversary again. You tried to understand him. He was your husband, and you knew of his stress and hardships in his job, as well as his passion and determination to keep his business up and going. You forgave him now, but the bitter feeling of neglect still lingered.

The fourth wedding anniversary quickly came by. Even you had started to get used to the decline in celebration, and almost forgot as well. The bitter feelings remained, and you planned not to do anything for the special day. It was a petty retort, but it was all that you could do against your husband. After all these hardships, you still loved him, and he still loved you— at least that’s what you felt.

The fourth wedding anniversary arrived, and so far no sign of celebration nor gifts from your spouse. You looked around, almost desperately trying to find a sign that he had remembered at the very least. It was bad enough that you woke up alone on your anniversary. The day progressed to afternoon, then to dusk, then to night. You had given up on waiting for him. He forgot again, you were sure of it.

The rain poured heavily and loudly outside, drowning out the sounds of your sobbing. It was cold, and you wore one of his shirts as an attempt to comfort yourself. It was pathetic, you thought to yourself. The clock ticked past 9 pm, and yet there was still no sign of your husband. Several deafening thoughts circled through your head over and over again. Did he not promise? Was there something going on at work? Was his work more important than his spouse? Did the day not matter to him anymore?

You curled up on your bed with your head between your knees, letting the rain drown out the thoughts from your mind. You hadn’t noticed the creak of the door as it opened, as your husband came walking in.

As the door creaked open, Diluc stepped into the room, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. He rushed forward, his voice filled with apologies, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen. You were tired— tired of the excuses, tired of the neglect, tired of feeling like an afterthought in his busy life.

"You've forgotten about our anniversary again," you hissed, your voice trembling with pent-up frustration. "Do we even matter to you anymore?"

The words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the growing discord between you. Diluc's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words to say. But before he could respond, you continued.

"I've tried to be understanding, Diluc. I've tried to support you, to be patient. But how much longer am I supposed to wait? How much longer am I supposed to pretend like it's okay to be forgotten?"

Your chest tightened with emotion, tears threatening to spill as you poured out your frustrations. Diluc stood before you, his usual stoic demeanor crumbling under the weight of your words.

"I-I didn't mean to," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of rain against the windows. "Work has been overwhelming, and I lost track of time. But that's no excuse, I know." His admission only fueled your anger. "I'm tired, Diluc," you admitted, your voice breaking as you finally let down your walls. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough. I'm tired of feeling like you don’t value our anniversary anymore. Like you don’t value our marriage!" For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I'm so sorry, my love. I know I've let you down, but please...please don't give up on us."

His words pierced through the haze of your anger, reaching deep into your heart. And in that moment, you knew that despite everything, despite the pain and the hurt, you still loved him.

"I won't give up on us," you whispered, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the storm outside. "But we need to talk, Diluc. We need to figure this out together."

You wrapped your arms around each other. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. For in the midst of the storm, you found solace in each other's arms.

I hope I did well <33

Prompts list soon! Feel free to give some requests <3

⊱┊ ·˚ ༘ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ + ꒰ request guide ꒱ !!

#reqs open #requests open #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc angst #genshin angst #angst #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x you

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koiiiji · 2 months ago

Note

I love your writing! I will continue to support you😭🫶🏻🫶🏻Can you write hyeok kwon x reader nsfw?

nsfw alphabet

author's note ; THANK UUUU💌!! i haven’t really following wb hashtag lately, so im sorry if someone already did nsfw alphabet with Kwon Hyuk

author's note 2 ; MDNI, AGELESS BLOG DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Hyuk is sleeeeeeeeepy. after sex you need to push him to the shower, so he won't fall asleep all naked and sweaty (but let's be honest, sometimes it happens too...). but usually after shower he likes to get in comfortable, close position and snuggle into your body and blankets to slowly fall asleep with small sex talk (i think he likes to hear your prises after sex, like did he do a good job? (ofc he did)).

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think he appreciates his arms and hands! he knows that he has some strength and likes when you can grip on to his biceps in the heat of the moment. i mean he knows how to work his hands.

as for you, he truthfully loves every part of you. if you ever asked him 'what part of me is your favorite?' he would actually say boobs. he likes resting on them.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i don't think Hyuk is particularly keen on making a mess, especially of the bed. i truthfully think he'd surprisingly enjoy cumming on your face, mainly around your lips. messy oral? he's done for.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i honestly have no idea what to put here, because Hyuk is quite lazy and not really kinky... but maybe he would like to try some role games?... sex in cosplay costumes maybe?... like to see you in cute bunny or kitty costume with ears and tail? maybe?

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is pretty experienced. he watched a lot of porn — different kinds, from home to most trivial ph shit. don't forget that Hyuk and Wooin are friends since high school and this fact alone allows to think that these gremlins been through some experience. so don't worry, he knows how to use his fingers and dick!

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

so, i think something simple like missionary where he can stare into your eyes, kiss you, tell you sweet things, etc. his ultimate choice is on the side, when he can hold your leg and slowly fuck you from behind. cowgirl can work too if he is extremely lazy today.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

can't help but be clumsy sometimes. he can't help but giggle when hair gets caught in your mouth or some other silly thing. however, he likes to keep things intimate and prefers to have a serious moment with you in bed

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

clean shaved or well trimmed. i think he finds it more aesthetically attractive and just likes to keep his higiene be that way.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

calm, can joke sometimes if it's appropriate of course. but mostly he is completely immersed into the process — kissing, cuddling, holding your body, tease, whisper sweet nothings into your ear

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Hyuk is super chill about...everything. if he needs it right now he will do it. he doesn't see anything wrong with it honestly

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay so...i think vanilla. when you're getting to know him and for the first few times you have sex, he keeps it simple. but with time he can go more and more sweet and even romantic. however, i think Hyuk have his kinkier side!! i think he really enjoys mocking you. like 'so wet for me already? greedy girl' and other dirty talk.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom! he is super lazy and if he had opportunity he would stay in bed all day (and this is canon i think, still it been stated in wb that he is lazy and likes his bed too much)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you all domestic, in his oversized clothes, just woke up standing in the kitchen, hair is messed and eyes are still sleepy. he really likes slow morning sex on the kitchen!!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

bringing other people to your bedroom. and really weird stuff like peeing or something like that

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

mmm 50/50 with giving. i don't think he have a great skills. like he surely can go down on you, but Hyuk is not super skilled and his tongue and jaw get tired quite fast. but he is not pushing you to give oral to him either.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on his mood. he can get really fast when he's feeling extra needy or kinky. however, when usually Hyuk will take his sweet time teasing you and go nice and slow with his thrusts, movements, touches. but there are time where he could also use slowness to his advantage and tease you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

nope. i think he consider it as unnecessary splash of energy, he would rather wait until you two have a mood for proper sex. and he likes resting in bed and generally are lazy so it's no.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

uuuh, he definitely wanted to try few places like changing rooms, or maybe friend's place, but just out of curiosity, he probably won't like it, so his preference is bedroom (read 'because he fall asleep almost immediately')

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i don't think he has very high stamina. it's not that he gets really sleepy after, but he can't go for multiple rounds. i think Hyuk doesn't really understand the point of few rounds if you two already had great time. like he can go two rounds if you insist or it's been a long time since he's seen you. he can last a while though, i think. but dont expect him to be sex machine, he is super lazy.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

most of the time he is indifferent about such things. if that means it will bring you extra pleasure, he don't mind.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

ohh he likes to tease!! both with words and actions! he likes to tease you through your panties with his slander fingers, he likes to tease your clenching pussy after he spent some time with his fingers ther. he likes to give you playful bites, slapping, literally everything!! he loves teasing so so much

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

keeps quiet, mostly. some interjections of grunts and groans, especially when he cums. he uses his voice more for humiliating-sweet talk, when he teases you! he loves hearing your noises, though, and it gives him more encouragement than anything.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

once you woke him by going down on him. he really liked it and secretly want to wake up like this more often, but he is kinda shy to ask this since he doesn't really enjoy doing same to you (as i said, only because he isn't that skilled and get tired fast)

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i would say average. he is quite slim, vienny, but okay, maybe a little longer than average.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think he has a fluctuating sex drive. during flu and cold season — autumn and winter — he is so clingy, desperate for your body heat, and won't let you escape warm bed, snuggling into your boobs. however, during the summer... just dont touch him. hot weather affects him so much that you hardly receive a hug from him.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

immediately. just few minutes after shower, when you two just cuddling, murmuring soft nothings and you found him not answering you, so you rise your head just to see he already softly snoring in his sleep.

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teaboot · 7 months ago

Note

I have a question for u

It is maybe a very cliché question but I am sincerely looking for the answer because it feels like most other people know it and just I don’t understand

So here we go: what differentiates love from friendship?

I can recognize friendship. All explanations given to me what others told me makes the distinction to loving someone (romantically?) didn’t make sense to me mostly because it always included some people that fall into the definition of friends

So yeah.. I’m having difficulty with relationships (apparently)

Thank u for ur thought! Ur blog always brings me happiness!

I hope u have a wonderful day with some quiet time to watch the fluffy creature

-🥬

Personal opinion?

Friendship is love. Love is friendship. Kissing is friendship and holding hands is love. Sex is friendship and washing laundry is love.

I've had crushes on people I'd never want to date. I have friends I'd be comfortable kissing. I don't think I've ever been attracted to sexually, but there are people I think are beautiful who make my heart race. I don't know if I've ever felt romantic attraction, but there are people I want to spend my life with, and others I'd rather admire from a distance, and others I want nothing to do with.

I think that honestly, really, words like "Husband", "Wife", "Partner", "Friend", "Queerplatonic", "Soulmates", "Life Partner"... I think they're useful tools to describe specific experiences, more than they are rigid boxes to sort and divide our experiences into.

I'm not sure if I understand tge difference between platonic affection, aesthetic attraction, romance, and friendship, but I find my best relationships so far have been, "We like being around each other, and we work together to find what kind of intimacy we want from each other".

Sometimes that intimacy is physical, like kissing or sparring. Sometimes it's emotional, like sharing feelings. Sometimes it's just good, quiet company, or doing things together.

I can't speak for your own experiences, but in mine, idk. Just kinda letting things happen.

(It is hard when you feel lonely, though, and don't know how to describe to most of the world what it is you want.)

Long post, but uh. Same boat, I suppose?

afraid I don't have a better answer right now, but if anyone else figures it out, I'd love to know.

Thanks for the ask, and I hope you're having a great day too!! ♡

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endlessthxxghts · 11 months ago

Text

Liquid Gold

Frankie Morales x afab!reader || W/C: 2.7k (a oneshot)

Summary: Frankie gets turned on by your love for caramel. (Read a tiny continuation of these two here, titled Comfortable!)

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. No physical descriptions of reader, everything is neutral. I am in fact a nonbinary girly who describes their coochie with she/her pronouns LMFAO, and both you and Frankie do that here. Feminine pet names (querida, cariño, sweet girl). You also really love caramel - like a lot. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate use of caramel. Food play. Kitchen sex. Hickey/marking kink. Lots of tongue action. Breast worship. Cunnilingus (He's Frankie the munch, what can I say?). Fingering/finger fucking. P in V unprotected sex. Creampie... hint of a breeding kink (I'll be tame with it.. for now..). Frankie, the aftercare KING!! (Please let me know if I've missed anything xoxo.)

A/N: I was eating caramel and apples, and I couldn't stop groaning at the sweetness LMFAOOO I really fucking love caramel. Then I got horny and started thinking about Frankie. Don't we love the ways inspiration strikes? Hope you enjoy my delulus. Much love, my babies.

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

“Mmm,” you moan. “So fucking good,” you mutter to yourself, licking the tips of your fingers to clean the residue.

“...Querida?” Frankie calls out from the living room. “What are you, uh…” he pauses to take a deep breath in and out, his cock stirring at the faint lewd noises coming from the kitchen. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Mmm,” you hum again in delight before responding back to him. “Nothing, baby, just grabbing a snack, I’ll be right there,” you say.

Okay, his curiosity is definitely getting the better of him. He rises from his place on the couch, and nothing would prepare him for what his eyes were about to witness.

You’re leaning over the counter, a plate below you with neatly cut apple slices, and you have a bottle of caramel in one hand. Your other hand is placed underneath the spout as you squeeze a dollop onto your finger, the thick liquid running down your digit before you have a chance to stop it. You quickly bring your finger into your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness, another delicious vibration escaping your throat.

Frankie literally has to perch himself against the nearest wall to stop his knees from buckling. He knows how much you love your caramel, but he forgets just how much. The thud of his broad body against the wall is what forces your eyes open.

“Oh,” you gasp with a smile. “Hi, baby. Did you want some?” You ask him, sucking your finger once more for good measure, not wanting to make a mess at your impulse decision of practically drinking the sugary substance from its bottle.

You watch as his eyes track your finger’s movement, his gaze coming back up to linger on your lips for an extra moment. “N-no, that’s okay, querida,” he replies, distracted.

You tilt your head in response, trying to gauge where his thoughts are right now. Then, you look down.

Oh.

He’s thinking with his other head.

You break away from your side of the counter, caramel still in hand, and you make your way in front of him. Putting your body flush against his, you put your free hand on his chest, reaching for his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “You sure you don’t want any, baby?” You ask him, voice teasingly smooth. You nudge his mouth open; his tongue flattening out immediately for you. “Just give it a little try, it’s so sweet.”

You let the caramel dribble onto his tongue, and he retreats the muscle back inside when he thinks you’re done squeezing, but you don’t stop, letting it drip onto his pouty bottom lip. Your thumb is quick to run over it, not giving his tongue a chance to clean the mess you made.

Before he knows it, you’re pulling his mouth into yours, your tongue briefly darting around your thumb before you’re sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, nearly dropping the bottle of caramel with how addicting your senses are being consumed.

His response is just as quick, his arms snaking around your waist and backing you into the edge of the counter, pushing himself deeper into your mouth as your tongues overlap each other. The hand on his jaw is now wrapped tightly in his brown curls, keeping his mouth messily against yours.

You feel his hands tap against the bottom of your ass cheeks, and you take the hint. Settling the bottle down, you pull yourself up on the counter. Finally, the kiss breaks, but now he’s reaching for the hem of your top, flinging it over your head, letting it land only God knows where.

Frankie’s crowding your space, looking down at you, his chocolate brown eyes now pure black with lust. “Can I have another taste, querida?” He rasps into your mouth.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your mind too turned on to register what he’s really asking. His hand is on the bottle instantly, squeezing a thick line of caramel across your naked chest. You choke on your breath at the sensation, your eyes fixated on the golden liquid starting to drip down, nearly reaching your nipples.

Frankie takes a step back to admire his work before he’s diving right in, the caramel bottle tossed back onto the counter as his hands find their home on your ass, pulling your hips into his as you lean back, giving him the space he needs to lick up his mess.

You feel his teeth softly graze the tops of your breasts, Frankie sucking with just the right amount of pressure for pretty little fireworks to ignite across your chest.

“Oh, fuck, Frankie-” you moan, eyes rolling back at the feeling. “Didn’t know- shit- didn’t know caramel is what does it for you,” you say with a weak smirk, your last few words higher in pitch than normal.

“It doesn’t,” he retorts, his tongue flicking across your nipple. “You do,” he growls, reaching for your other candy-glazed nipple.

Between your legs are fucking drenched, and fuck, he feels so good attached to your chest like this, but you need more—she needs more.

You’re yanking Frankie’s curls, pulling him off of you to look into his eyes—wild and desperate, he’s looking at you—his lips and chin glistening with a shine only sugar could provide. Fuck, you want that mouth somewhere else. You tell him as such. A cheeky grin spreads across his face. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says leaning back in, kissing each breast for good luck before he reaches for the caramel once more, letting another thick drop fall down your sternum and belly, daring to drip in places it shouldn’t.

He follows the caramel’s path, open-mouthed kisses surfing down your torso, his tongue not letting any of it go to waste.

The lower he goes, the needier you become. “Please- please, baby- need you,” you heave, your head falling back between your shoulder blades at the overwhelming fire roaring between your legs.

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he whispers, kissing where the hem of your bottoms meets your tummy. “You’ve got me, cariño.”

His fingers reach for your bottoms, pulling them down swiftly as you raise yourself up to make it an easy removal.

Wasting no time, his mouth is kissing hotly on your mound, his tongue swirling your pubic area as your hips buck further into his face. He drags his mouth lower, a shiny trail of his sweet saliva coating every inch of you as he brings your throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks—a near pornographic wail reverberates the kitchen walls, your back nearly giving way if it wasn’t for your other hand being planted onto the countertop.

“Jesus- Fuck, Frankie, oh my God, ohmyGod-” you pant, your chest rising and falling at an erratic rate as his mouth never stops its assault on your clit. One of his hands makes their way towards your entrance, Frankie’s two middle fingers surfing through your wetness before he prods inside with ease, his fingers always filling you up in a way your own fingers never could.

He curves his fingers just right, hitting your release button, forcing your floodgates open with absolutely no warning. “F-fuck, fuck! Fuck, baby, I’m cumming, oh, fuck, mmm just like that- shit-”

He pulls his mouth off of you, pulling away just enough to watch as you cream all over his fingers—your caramel dripping down his fingers as his mouth positively waters at the sight. “Jesus, hermosa,” Frankie breathes, his hot breaths fanning across your center sending an aftershock of shivers down your spine.

His fingers come to a halt, slowly slipping out of you as his eyes remain fixated at the sight. “Tan perfecta, mi amor,” he says mindlessly. You watch with bated breath to see what he does next.

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head as he licks his fingers clean, practically purring at the way you taste. You whimper at the sight, an entire new wave of arousal leaks from your sex—crying again, for more.

“Frankie,” you whine.

For a second, Frankie genuinely got lost in your taste, forgetting everything around him but the way your flavor sits so addictingly across his taste buds. He could spend forever drinking from you if he could. “Lo siento, cariño, lo siento,” he says, truly apologetic. “You just taste so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” his inflection turning desperate in those last few words. He pulls you in for a kiss, a tinge of your own flavor melting onto your tongue. “How do you want me?” he says softly into your lips.

“Inside, Morales. Please,” you whine into his mouth as you reach for the bulge of his sweatpants, your legs spreading open impossibly more, begging him to end whatever coy teasing game you started. “You already made a mess on me,” you tell him. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you whisper: “Now you need to make another one inside.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Frankie groans, throwing his head back to contain himself. When he brings his gaze back down to you, you can see the determination behind his eyes. “That’s what you want, huh? Want me inside you? Want me dripping from you all day, huh, my sweet girl?” He’s yanking his sweats down. He steps closer to you, lips a hair’s width away from each other. “Wanna be filled up with my caramel?” He smirks.

That was the dumbest shit you have ever heard, and your facial expression reveals that, yet it has your pussy clenching on nothing. Of course, Frankie catches it. “Oh, yeah, she does,” he says, running his fingers along your seam before he’s guiding the head of his cock into you.

“Oh, God-” you moan, the girth of him is always a stretch no matter how many times he’s been inside you. “So fucking big- fuck-” your fingers digging into the nape of his neck as he pushes himself to the hilt.

His one arm is wrapped behind you, his hand planted on the counter right where your ass sits to keep you steady as he begins to move—pulling completely out with just the tip at your entrance before slamming back inside, sobs pouring from your lips at the pleasurable plain hitting all the right places. “Fuck- so fucking tight,” he grunts, his vein popping out of his neck with every exertion of his hips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me, hermosa, shit-”

“Frankie, p-please. T-touch me, k-kiss me, something, please, baby, I-” you plead, both hands reaching for his face now, grasping for his lips to be on yours.

His mouth slams into yours in a bruising embrace, his mouth immediately latching onto your tongue to lap up the sweetness still laced in your spit. He’s groaning into your mouth, hips moving faster, harder—the wet slick of your pussy getting louder with each thrust, putting you both in a lust-filled haze.

His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers finding your clit, giving you the extra push you need to reach your high. “I feel her fluttering, baby, she’s close,” he mutters against you. “Cum for me, mamita, and I’ll fucking fill you up, baby, come on.”

“Oh, fuck- yes, baby, oh God-!” you’re screaming, eyes clamped shut and head thrown back as you soak his cock, nearly pushing him out of you with the force of your release.

“Mierda- just like that, fuck-” Frankie moans, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself from finishing just yet, reveling in the sight of you fall apart around him.

His hips have slowed, giving you a moment of breath, but you’re not having it. Your hips start to move on their own accord, wrapping your legs around Frankie’s waist as you buck your hips into him, whining for him to move, for him to fuck you, for him to-

“Fucking cum inside me, Fish.”

Fish.

That brings him to attention immediately—his hips that were once meeting your every push and pull, now stuttering as his release covers every inch of your walls. You smile wide at the full feeling inside of you even as he begins to soften and slip out of you.

The room is filled with both of your heavy breathing, your gaze stuck on your man as he watches his cum start to leak from your used hole.

“Christ, baby,” he breathes, his fingers collecting the spend dripping out of you only to bring it back to your opening, slowly pushing his fingers inside. Your body, now reaching oversensitivity, jerks at the feeling, a small whimper leaves your mouth. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “Just putting it back where it needs to be,” he tells you with a smirk, your tummy fluttering at his statement.

He’s helping slide you off the counter now, hands gripped tightly on your waist knowing your legs must be pure jelly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mi amor,” he says softly. “You’re all sticky,” he says in a mock exasperation, as if he wasn’t the reason for this fucking mess.

You slap his chest, rolling your eyes as your feet hit the ground. “If I’m still sticky, it’s because you didn’t do your job properly,” you huff.

He meets your gaze once more, licking his bottom lip before he speaks. “Oh, yeah? Telling me I need to go in one more time?” He asks, leaning in with his tongue out to reach for your chest.

“AGH, NO,” you screech, holding your hands up to keep him away. “Last I checked, I was just trying to eat my apples-” you pause at the realization. “Oh my god, wait!!! My apples!!!” You break from Frankie’s hold, turning to see your plate of sweet, crisp apples—now brown and spoiled. “My apples,” you say softly, your lips jutting out into a frown.

Frankie chuckles behind you, grabbing ahold of your waist as he guides you to the bathroom. “I’ll cut you a new one, sweet girl. Let’s just clean my mess up, yeah?”

“Okay,” you submit.

He runs your favorite soft wash cloth under warm water, adding a drop of your favorite soap to get any stubborn sugar stains. “But, Frankie?”

“Sí, cariño?”

“Leave the mess between my legs.”

“Baby-” he says, slightly concerned not wanting you to get a UTI or anything.

“I’ll go pee,” you cut him off. “Just let me sit in the feeling of you for a little bit. Please?”

“Fine,” he says softly. “But we’re showering after I feed you your apple.”

“After you feed me?” You ask, your cheeks going hot at the tenderness of the gesture.

“Yeah, baby,” he says nonchalantly as he kisses your forehead, wiping around your sensitive center. He hangs the cloth to dry before putting it in the hamper. He grabs one of your favorite comfort shirts from your drawer, putting it on you, before he’s guiding you back to the kitchen.

In the midst of your rabid behavior, neither of you realized that caramel bottle toppled over, long enough for nearly a quarter of the bottle to make its way through.

“MY CARAMEL!” You cry, never wanting to let the universe’s best creation go to waste.

Frankie stifles a laugh, not wanting to upset you but finding your love for caramel so endearing. “Baby, it’s okay, we can buy more,” he comforts, rubbing your back as you freeze at the sight.

“I know,” you say. “I just hate to waste such- such yummy things. This is literally liquid fucking gold,” you add, gesturing to the spilt thick liquid blessing your countertop.

“I thought what was inside of you was your liquid gold?” He says with his soft chocolate puppy eyes, gesturing to your cum-filled pussy.

“Oh my god, Frankie, what-” you start, unsure of whether to laugh or be weirded out at what just came out of his mouth. “Please just cut my apple,” you say defeated, slapping your forehead as your body begins to shake with laughter.

As Frankie peels the skin off your fruit—he knows how much it makes your throat itchy—he mutters something that you couldn’t quite pick up.

“What was that?” You ask again.

“You know I’m right,” he says as he clears his throat, eyes focused on his task. “Your liquid gold isn’t the caramel,” he adds for an unnecessary confirmation.

“Francisco-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Shut up.”

He grins triumphantly, squeezing a generous amount of your second favorite liquid gold equivalent all over your juicy apple.

If you enjoyed this, feel free to check out my masterlist or follow my updates blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be notified when new stories come out! I love you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with me.

Also, please check this post out to see some ways you can educate yourself on how you can help Palestine.

@pedrostories

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pernesophe · 3 months ago

Text

Wind Breaker Boys x Touch Starved Reader

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

Synopsis: How the Wind Breaker boys would handle a touch averse / touch starved S/O.

(The reader's for this post just aren't touchy feely, don't have that experience, or are just awkward about it so there's more characterization of the reader's for this one I guess? Anyway, still had fun writing it - also Tsugeura has an artsy gf so a lot of his is about that!)

Characters in this post (characters are aged 18+ for any smut portions, and it is specifically implied in the story as well) MDNI:

Tsuguera Taiga (TW: pure comfort, fluff, one line could be taken as suggestive at the end)

Sugishita Kyotaro (TW: pure comfort, fluff, implied size difference cause Sugishita is so tall)

Kiryu Mitsuki (TW: comfort, fluff, one scene where reader is being bothered by a male classmate, suggestive, and smut (cunnilingus) at the end)

Master List (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post)

Tsugeura Taiga

(2819 WC)

The day you met Tsuguera Taiga was at his favorite restaurant. With an artsy aesthetic you always stuck out at a wrestling themed restaurant, but it’s one of your favorites because they make caloric rich meals that really work for you. As soon as he saw you sitting by yourself, Tsugeura approached you in a boisterous manner and asked if you would like to eat together. He seemed so friendly, so of course you agreed.

After sitting down and ordering, he asks you about yourself. With a bright smile you tell him that you attend an arts based high school in the area and that you’ve only lived here for a few years now. Tsugeura is immediately intrigued by you, your aesthetic, and that you were just different from who he usually hung out with and spoke to.

After the food comes, you ask Tsugeura a little about himself and over lunch he tells you about attending Furin and protecting the town. And then he tells you all about his “virtue” which you think is odd, but really endearing. When he asks about your virtue, you’re a little surprised and don’t have an answer right away. He tells you that’s okay through a big grin with bright eyes to match, and then he says that you can tell him next time he sees you. Heat rose to your face with the implication that the two of you would see each other again, and you bashfully agreed. Tsugeura really didn’t even consider the fact that it could be seen as a date - he’s just a himbo and really interested in getting to know you.

The next time you see Tsuguera is about a week later at the same restaurant. The second you walk in he excitedly waves to you and gestures to the seat across from him, and you quickly join him with a wide grin plastered on your face. As soon as you sit down, you rush to tell him what your virtue is:

To see as much art as you can - good, bad, life changing art - so then you can make art that resonates with a lot of people. Hopefully some of your pieces can spur some real life changes around the world.

Tsugeura can’t help the overjoyed grin that pulls on the corners of his mouth at how excited you were to tell him your virtue. Thoroughly impressed and a little touched that you thought about it so much and gave him an honest answer. After a long moment of him gazing at you with a soft expression, you tilt your head curiously so he clears his throat before telling you it’s a really good virtue to have. Which leads to him asking more about you, the art you enjoy and he even asks to see some of it if you have pictures. Pulling out your phone, you forewarn him that your ‘vibe’ doesn’t necessarily match your art, and he just nods with a big grin.

Apprehensively you show him the first piece: a page full of sketches in the same style, black and white, varying from mushrooms, to bottles, to fish, to skulls, to moths and finally butterflies - all of which were laden with too many eyes. Tsugeura was a little taken aback, but then he leaned closer to the screen and zoomed in on certain pieces. As he did, you explained that it’s just a draft to practice drawing all of those things in the same style. Then you sheepishly add that you put eyes in a lot of your artwork.

“Why?” Tsugeura asks, not a trace of judgment in his voice - only curiosity - as he continues pouring over your work.

“I don’t know, I guess everyone says ‘eyes are the window to the soul’ but I think there’s only certain circumstances where that’s true. Like you have to be facing someone directly to see into their soul, but you can feel someone's eyes outside of that,” Tsugeura peers up at you - expression still completely curious, but questioning.

“Like, I feel like not everyone was taught not to stare growing up, if that makes sense? So, like, sometimes you can feel people staring at you even if you can’t see it…” he nods slowly as he straightens - listening intently. “I guess some of my earlier artwork plays around with giving the viewer that feeling from everyday objects - kind of in a way to put them in my shoes…” you trail off quietly - fearing that you’ve said too much.

“I’ve moved away from that being the point of my work, but I still do incorporate a lot of eyes. Now more so because I think sometimes it’s also a thing that can represent humanity in some ways - so now I try to incorporate them in a way to give humanity back to people and beings that we should treat better in our society.” Explaining yourself softly as you peer around the restaurant before meeting his gaze again, and Tsugeura’s eyes light up at your words.

“Do you have any pieces like that?” Asking with an undertone of hopefulness - unable to hide the way his fingers fidget with excitement.

“Yes actually,” you say softly as you swipe to one of the pieces you made earlier this year in your photos.

It’s a surrealist painting with a giant road lined with buildings leading into the ocean, and on the horizon a giant wave was coming to wash everything away. A crowd of “normal” people were running away while grabbing animals, plants, Knick knacks, etc - all with big, pleading eyes plain as day. Several figures were walking against the crowd - some you could see from the side profiles had no eyes, others had no ears, and some had no mouths - all of them on their way to enter the ocean. No one acknowledged them, no one reached out to spin them in the other direction. On top of everything, the ones walking towards the ocean were slightly transparent - as if they were invisible, or ghosts already. Tsugeura pours over it wide eyed for several minutes before looking up to you for an explanation.

“It’s called Blind,” you say quietly but don’t explain beyond that. He looks back at your phone and then to you and then your phone again as you wait patiently for his opinion.

“Because no one will look at them… or help them?” Asking quietly without looking up at you, and you feel your eyebrows shoot up instantly at his question. Tsugeura was absolutely correct.

“Mhm,” humming quickly with a nod as he meets your gaze again. “It’s kind of my commentary on how people with disabilities are treated by society.” Informing with a nod of your head, Tsugeura nods as well with an astonished expression on his face.

“I think you’re already making art that’s gonna change the world,” musing softly as a prideful grin spreads across his face. Immediately the tips of your ears burn and you bashfully avert your gaze. “This is really, really good Y/N,” adding as he hands your phone back to you, and you take it while shooting him a grateful smile.

After the two of you finish eating, Tsugeura walks you home and continues asking about you and your art. You ended up pulling up your portfolio on your phone and let him scroll through it - he was speechless (in a good way). At the end of the walk he was obviously disappointed to have to stop talking to you, so you offered him your number and he happily exchanged contact info.

Over the next few weeks, outside of the now weekly lunches you two have together, he stays in daily communication with you - asking about your day, art, and if you’ve eaten or drink water today. Not once has he made you feel bad for skipping a meal, but he does send a message like, “Food fuels the brain! You can be an amazing artist even if you’re not starving!”

This always makes you laugh and actually pause to eat the snacks you brought while you ask him about his day.

After about 3 months of getting to know Tsugeura, he asks if your work is ever featured in any art shows. Surprised by his question, you stammer out that there’s actually one this weekend and he of course asks if he can come. Not a ton of the people in your life get your art, so it’s typically you asking them to come - not the other way around. Of course, you eagerly agree and get a ticket to him by the end of the day.

For the show, Tsugeura got uncharacteristically nervous about attending as himself. The day before the show he asks Kiryu about what he should wear, and his pink haired friend tore through his wardrobe until he picked out a plain, long sleeve white shirt that was tucked into a pair of simple jeans with a black belt. Over it Tsugeura wore a coffee brown plaid shirt that was rolled up to the elbow along with the undershirt. To complete the look he wore a pair of long coffee colored socks that peaked out of the black lace up boots that Kiryu dug out of the back of his friend’s closet. His bubblegum haired friend said it was best to come as he is, but this outfit would be appropriate for the event.

Tsugeura felt way more confident by the time your art show rolled around. He, of course beelined to you, but after you showed him and told him about your pieces he seemed to pick up on the fact that you would be doing that all night. So, he made sure to ask you if it was okay to leave you and look at other pieces, before perusing the rest of the show and asking questions about different pieces.

You were pleasantly surprised to see Tsugeura truly engaged with the other artists and asking thoughtful questions about their art. Since he wasn’t an “artsy person” the questions he asked were a completely different point of view than most of the other attendees. By the end of the event, it was apparent that he was really well received and appreciated by the other creators which only made your heart soar even higher.

Once the event wound down, Tsugeura returned to your side and helped you pack up your pieces before walking you home. After the first few minutes of the walk pass in awkward silence - you peering up at him only to see him looking straight ahead with a nervous expression - he finally breaks the silence. In his signature loud way, he tells you that he thinks you’re really cool, creative and so, so smart. Going on to say that he would like to be more than friends, but that if that’s not what you would want then he would really like to just be your friend.

It was honestly comical, because he was so on edge it kind of looked like he was just yelling his feelings at you - and to be fair, he was - but his nervous yet hopeful expression accompanied with those big puppy dog eyes made him so unthreatening.

Instantly all your walls crumbled, and all of those ooey-gooey warm feelings that have been brewing for Tsugeura finally gushed out of you. With a blindingly bright smile you confess that you’ve felt the same way this whole time, and that you just didn’t realize he felt the that way. For a while you kind of just thought Tsugeura was just being kind to you, but he was quick to tell you that he’s so kind to you because he likes you so much. Timidly, he asks if you would be his girlfriend, and you happily agree.

Due to his virtue, Tsugeura didn’t want to scare you and let you take the lead on physical affection - this led to the two of you not really touching for the first 3 months of dating. Some guys in his class asked if you two have kissed, and Tsugeura just shrugs and says no. When they ask why, he says he’s letting you take the lead, and they just stare at him dumbfounded before asking if he’s ever gonna make a move - so he explains his thinking behind it.

Then one of his peers asks if Tsugeura lets you know that he’s attracted to you or likes you outside of physical affection. Tsugeura explained that he doesn’t really, but you seem really secure in your looks and whenever you two talk you just end up in a deep discussion about each other’s special interests. They say “okay” and some forms of “good luck” which kind of make Tsugeura self conscious though he doesn’t show it outwardly to them.

Later that day though, he timidly asks you if he’s been making you feel undesirable by not touching you or complimenting you. Surprised at first by his timidness, but then you giggle and explain your feelings around compliments - you don’t care too much for compliments on your physique, but you do enjoy compliments on your style choices and art. You assure him that you feel like he compliments you all the time - especially when he’s always telling you that he really likes the outfit you put together, or when he asks for your help to put a new outfit together for him. It always makes you feel good that he trusts your style and creative choices enough to ask you for help. In addition to that, you're always bouncing art idea off of him and he always tells you how intelligent you are for the idea.

After that, you go on to tell him - a little more nervously - about your relationship with physical affection. He listens intently as you explain that you don’t come from a very touchy feely home, and that no one in your family is very comfortable with it so you kind of just learned to be the same way.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t quite understand the physical affection piece at first and immediately bear hugs you with a giant grin on his face while saying, “Well you just need a hug!” He accidentally ends up tackling you to the floor so he’s on top of you.

When he hears you sniffle quietly underneath him, Tsugeura immediately thinks he hurt you and tries to get up, but you're clutching his shirt so tightly that he can’t.

”Y/N? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry!” He cries out, but you shake your head as you cry into his shoulder and pull him closer to you. Tsugeura freezes in place so you're not bearing any of his weight, but he's not pulling away either

”No I-I’m not hurt…” sniffling softly as you try to find the words to explain. “I’ve just never had anyone hug me like this, or been so ha-happy to hug me…” voice cracking as a sob escapes you. Tsugeura finally seems to understand that this was a lot harder for you than he first realized as he silently relaxes his body on top of you - reapplying the pressure from before.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly. “Ca-can we stay like this for a little bit longer? The pressure is really nice…” Warbling out softly, and he immediately wraps his arms tightly around you.

Tsuguera is silent as he holds you and lets you cry into his chest. After this, his approach to small forms of physical affection - hand holding, placing a reassuring palm on your back or shoulder blade, tucking your hair behind your ear - is much more eager. Especially since you mentioned that no one had ever been so happy to hug you before - Tsugeura never wanted you to feel that he wasn’t more than happy to touch you. In private, he’ll give you forehead kisses, tuck you into his side on the couch, and occasionally play with your hair or pet your head. He insists on giving you pressure hugs often - also in private in case you start crying - because after that first time you had been so relaxed afterwards. As if he had somehow squeezed all the tension from your body.

Through the rest of school, graduation, art school, and even at your first big show - Tsugeura always showed up. At that first show and every single one following, Tsugeura would arrive with you; help you set up; look at art and mingle through the event before returning to your side at the end to help you pack up. When the two of you arrive home - per tradition - Tsugeura peels the formal dress off of you and removes your heels before pulling you into a crushing hug. Once the stress of the day is squeezed from your muscles, then you take a long, hot shower together before cuddling each other to sleep in your giant shared bed.

Sugishita Kyotaro

(2296 WC)

You met Sugishita in middle school, after he was already devoted to Umemiya - he got involved when a group of your classmates were bullying you relentlessly. It took several interventions from him before they finally stopped, but after they did he still kept a quiet eye on you.

Often he would be waiting on the corner of the street that your house is on - at first you didn’t realize he was waiting for you until you smiled and waved at him as you walked by and he fell in step with you immediately. Honestly, you thought it was a coincidence, but every day after that started the same way - Sugishita silently waiting at the corner for you. Not once did you question him about it, wordlessly accepting the “scary dog privileges” that Sugishita afforded you.

A severe look was always on his face, and he didn’t speak much, but since you met him through him standing up for you - it was easy to be comfortable and smiley towards him. Though, he wasn’t 100% used to that right off the bat (other than maybe from Umemiya) and became enamored by you quite swiftly. The two of you started “hanging out” after knowing each other for a few weeks - you two would see each other at the park or something and sit together quietly enjoying whatever separate activities you brought.

It took him a while to open up to you, and he still hasn’t divulged everything about himself, but you quickly learned that Umemiya and Furin were incredibly important to him. One thing he made sure to mention was that he’s just really invested in following in Umemiya’s footsteps by protecting the town. You thought he was really admirable for it, and made sure to tell him so with a bright smile that exuded reverence - which instantly made him fall for you. As for you, you’ve had feelings since Sugishita saved you, but they’ve grown unruly over time. Especially during those quiet moments where you can just enjoy his company, but you’re not expected to speak.

Every single day, you have to say so many words that you find it to be exhausting sometimes, so you especially loved that Sugishita’s friendship uses a lot of nonverbal communication (head nods, points, a specific look, etc.). It made you feel like he really got you, and at times it kind of felt like the two of you had your own secret language.

Despite how your feelings continue to overtake your heart for Furin’s “Mad Dog” - you keep gardening shears at the ready to cut them back before their invasive vines reach your mouth. Sugishita was so not forthcoming with his emotions, you were convinced he couldn’t feel the same way, and you weren’t willing to jeopardize your newfound friendship.

Umemiya finally asks to meet you one day since Sugishita was spending so much time with you, so he brought you to Pothos to meet Furin’s leader, Kotoha and some of the Furin kings. Though you don’t love talking all of the time - you’re able to communicate really well, and come across pretty bubbly when you do talk. After meeting you, they all think your friendship is adorable since you two are like ‘night and day’, but they also seem relieved that you’re obviously a very kind and caring person. They hid it well, but you still picked up on the fact that they were a bit worried for their friend since Sugishita doesn’t talk, let alone explain much.

After they meet you, Umemiya asks Sugishita if he likes you as “more than a friend” and Sugishita defensively denies it. Umemiya just laughs and says ‘Well, I hope that’s true, because it won’t be long before someone tries to steal her from you,” he says with a teasing grin and arch of his brow.

Sugishita is on edge after that. Truly he hadn’t considered the fact that you might want to spend time with someone else eventually, and that realization surfaced a ton of scary emotions for him. So the next time you two are sitting at the park, he uncharacteristically talks more than usual.

The moment the two of you sit down on the bench, he’s fidgeting his hands in his lap and twitching his shoes in the dirt. Frequently you peered over at him, but the moment he met your gaze he’d look away immediately. Finally, you pin him with that same intense stare he’d give others until he faced you fully and just came out with whatever was on his mind.

“I like you Y/N,” his monotone mutter wavered slightly as a blush crept over his cheeks. Dubiously, you tilt your head with a notch in your brow at him - trying to decipher what that meant.

“I like you too Sugishita!” Chirping brightly at him after the short pause as your face smoothes out, and for a beat his face lights up in surprise and a smile starts to curl his lips. Until you add, “Honestly, and I’ve never told you this, but you’re my best friend.” Admitting with a bashful giggle. Immediately, his face falls as he turns away and he begins fidgeting again - you almost ask him what’s wrong but he meets your gaze with a determined look on his face. By the way, “determined” on Sugishita’s face just looks like a severe glare, so you jump at first.

“Y/N.” He says meaningfully and you lean in slightly - looking up at him through your thick lashes. Gulp - he swallows hard before continuing. “I like you… as more… than a… friend.” Through gritted teeth he breathes the words out, eyes pleading. Just due to his demeanor, you’re stunned, sitting there blinking rapidly for several minutes. Despite every nerve in his being telling him to run and that this was all a huge mistake - he stays and speaks some more. “Y/N, I want to be your boyfriend. If that’s okay with you?” Asking slowly, in such a quiet, vulnerable tone that contrasts his usual one. Finally, you’re released from your shock.

“Really?” Whispering so softly eyes welling with tears. “Sugishita… of course!” Crying out as you nod quickly. As for Sugishita, well, he’s usually not an expressive person but he beamed at you as the tips of his ears burned brightly. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time - I just had no idea you’ve felt the same.” Admitting quietly as you regard him with a soft expression, and he just bashfully nods while averting his gaze.

After that day in the park the two of you were official, but still a little awkward. Neither of you were used to dating, so touching each other - even holding hands - was kind of off the table. Honestly, the two of you kind of acted the same as you did before so no one really knew. Umemiya thought it was odd that Sugishita was still so calm after their conversation, so he asked Sugishita about it while rooftop gardening. The raven haired teen simply said the two of you were dating now while going about his task - that’s how all of Furin found out that you were official.

As for you - your friends found out when they tried to set you up with one of their brothers who had a crush on you, but you politely told them that you were seeing someone. They begged for photos so you showed them the only one you had saved that Umemiya took of the two of you.

It was from that day in Pothos when you met everyone - you and Sugishita are sitting side by side in a booth, and you are looking off to the side (Tsubaki was talking to you in depth about fashion) and Sugishita is peering over at you. Except that severe look he usually wore had softened completely, a small smile curled the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were brimming with so much adoration. That’s how everyone in your life found out.

It’s been a solid six months since you and Sugishita started dating, but everyone still just calls you ‘friends’. When you asked your bestie about it she said “you don’t act like a couple. Like you hang out a lot, but I’ve never seen the two of you touch each - not even holding hands!”

Her words plague your thoughts for the rest of the day. They were still heavy in your mind as you were hanging out in Sugishita’s backyard later that day. The two of you were sitting on the bench looking at the daffodils starting to bloom.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly reach out and take hold of Sugishita's thumb (too afraid to take his whole hand), and he immediately jumps but doesn’t pull away. He just looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, kind of like he would look at Sakura, which makes you cower a little.

”So-sorry…” whispering quietly as you let go of his hand and fold yours in your lap. He just keeps staring at you, but you won’t look at him - finding interest in a daffodil swaying in the breeze.

After an exceptionally long pause, Sugishita gently holds his hand above your lap with his thumb stuck out for you causing you to look back up at him in surprise. His expression is confused, maybe a little apprehensive, and certainly nervous. Gently, you take his thumb in your hand again and hold it in your lap, but the staring contest isn’t over yet as he silently pleads for an explanation.

”M-my friend said that everyone keeps calling us ‘just friends’ even though we’re dating, because no one ever sees us touch each other - or even hold hands,” you explain quietly as Sugishita’s brow furrows and he tilts his head to the side, perplexed. “It’s not that I care what other people think, but you are my boyfriend and I would like to touch you sometimes…” trailing off as a vibrant blush overtakes his face. “Not anything crazy… It’s just hard for me to even,” looking down at where you’re holding his thumb, “I was never hugged, or kissed or loved on at home, and I just don’t know how… I’m trying to find a way though, because if there’s anyone I want to do that with it’s you.” Admitting so softly before returning your gaze to the daffodil. Another, extraordinarily long pause passes, where you can feel Sugishita’s eyes boring into you, but you don’t break the silence.

Without warning, Sugishita wraps his fingers around your hand where you’re holding his thumb and pulls so your top half is leaning in front of him, and then he uses his other arm to scoop you up and pull you into his lap. Promptly, he wraps one arm tightly around you while the other stays between you, his thumb still in your grasp, and then he hides his face in your neck. Neither of you speak, or move, or breathe really as you just sit there and get comfortable feeling each other so close. Then, like the wind whistling through a gnarled stump in the dead of night - he finally speaks.

”Me too,” he whispers into your hair. That’s all he says, but you understand - he’s the same as you in a lot of ways, this being one of them. He wants to touch you too, but he doesn’t know how. But he does know that you are the person he wants to touch. The two of you stay like that for a long while, and though your relationship changes marginally (both of you are just slow paced, and that’s okay!!) the two of you start holding hands regularly.

Specifically, when the two of you are sitting somewhere, Sugishita will hold his hand out to you with his thumb sticking out, to which you’ll smile softly and wrap your hand around it - the two of you will sit doing your separate activities while holding hands like that. From that point on though, it is no longer in question whether the two of you are ‘just friends’ or dating. Especially with the way Sugishita blushes brighter than Sakura every time you hold his hand.

Years later, Sugishita still isn’t super touchy-feely, openly that is, but he is actually much more tolerant than he looks - with you and the kids at least. Once your children are old enough they literally use him as a jungle gym while he’s doing things around the house, the whole time he wears a gentle smile as he maneuvers them expertly around corners and furniture.

As for you, Sugishita will come up behind you often - especially when you’re cooking - and place his chin on the top of your head before wrapping his arms around your waste and hugging you snugly from behind. If you are cooking, and it’s something he likes, then he’ll steal a small pinch from the pan while you’re “not looking” (you see every time though).

Your husband only really comes into his own as a touchy feely person when your kids have grown up and moved out - having kids of their own. Teenage Sugishita and Grandpa Sugishita are completely different people. Grandpa Sugi - as the grandkids call him - is often seen scooping them up when they come to visit and peppering their face with kisses.

Around Furin he can be seen carrying one grandkid in one arm, holding the hand of another walking next to him, while a third sits atop his shoulders - hugging his head for stability. Of course, you always take the third one and put them on your shoulders instead - more securely - to both their and Grandpa Sugi’s dislike as they grumble in a way that has to be genetic.

Kiryu Mitsuki

(4913 WC)

The day you moved in next door to Kiryu Mitsuki is the day you fell in love with him. From the moment you met his viridescent eyes - you were hooked. Most of your childhood was spent playing at his house, at your house, or at the park. Sometimes you would end up in the same class throughout grade school, but the two of you were close friends regardless.

And close friends you remained going into high school, despite your obvious crush on your best friend. Going into that first year, you vowed to keep your feelings to yourself so as to not ruin the friendship, and because you also knew Kiryu would never reciprocate them. He was the coolest person you’ve ever met, popular, and one of the most authentic people you know. Whereas you have always been quiet, shy and a bit of a nerd - to be quite honest, you didn’t think anyone was looking your way.

That was until one of your peers from grade school approached you with a wide grin and desire in his eyes. You were thrown off at first to see him approaching you with that expression - especially since he’s the same guy who broke your glasses three years in a row just for fun.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?” Asking cheerily as he leans into your space making you stiffen completely. Unaware of how uncomfortable you are, he keeps talking to you, leaning closer and closer until finally he asks, “So - wanna go on a date with me?”

Grinning ear to ear as he expectantly awaits your affirmative answer, but you’re just stuck there blinking rapidly. He couldn’t be serious, right? The two of you haven’t spoken since you were under 3 feet tall, and this may be the first time he’s ever said a kind word to you.

“Um,” stammering for a moment as you flounder for a response, and then you toss him a tight lipped smile as you inched towards an escape route. “No thank you - I have to go actually,” rushing the words as you duck past him and speed away. Not sparing a glance back either, so you completely miss the way his face sours and his jaw clenches in annoyance.

The next few weeks pass with the same peer following you on all of your social media accounts and DM’ing you until you have to block him and go private. Completely missing the hint though, since he somehow acquired your number and has just started texting you directly until you have to block that as well. Finally, you think it’s over until he starts showing up at your school, job, and sometimes randomly when you’re out with your friends. You don’t even know how he knows where you are. Still, you’re not sure if it’s serious enough to bring up to someone yet.

The last straw is when he shows up on your front doorstep while both your and Kiryu’s parents are gone and he is out on patrol - so you’re totally alone. Knowing better than to answer the door, you crouch in your kitchen with your phone opened to the emergency number already punched in - just in case. For 30 minutes he bangs on your door insistently while calling your name, and then suddenly it just stops. Still, you wait another 15 minutes just to be safe.

When you hear Kiryu opening the front gate to his house, you jump up and sprint out the front door over to him. Seeing the panic in your eyes, he immediately goes on high alert - looking around for whatever caused you to be in such a state. After you catch your breath, everything that’s been going on for the past few weeks right up to the incident less than an hour ago spills out of you in one sentence. Kiryu listens silently - eyes widening and jaw clenching more and more with each word - by the end of your tale his expression is downright murderous.

For a moment you wonder if it was a mistake to tell him as you gently reach out to touch his arm, but then he suddenly snaps out of his stupor - face smoothing out as he throws you a reassuring smile. Though his verdurous eyes were still seething.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just leave it to me,” reassuring you with a serene smile as you slowly nod - uncertain of what he could mean exactly by his earlier expression. “I just found a new game - wanna play it with me to take your mind off of it?” Offering kindly, and you sigh in relief since the boy next door you were familiar with had returned. Nodding, you follow him into his house and chill there until your parents get home. Kiryu insists on walking you the 15 feet home - just to be safe.

Two days later, the guy approaches you - with a black eye and really nasty split lip - and genuinely apologizes for how creepy and completely out of line he’s been. Then he promises to leave you alone. Stunned into silence, you just nod with wide eyes before he turns and walks away. Later that day, you confront Kiryu about it - expecting him to deny beating the guy up - but he just shrugs at you.

“Yeah I did.” He adds to the gesture, matter of factly. A long pause passes where you just stare at him in disbelief, and as you part your lips to start chastising him, he just gives you a deadpan look that makes you pause. Then he states in a cool tone, “If you would just date me already, then I could’ve just told him that I’m your boyfriend and to back off.”

Wide eyed, you just stare at him with your mouth opening and closing like a guppy - causing him to throw his head back in laughter. ”Y/N, don’t tell me you actually haven’t realized it yet? I mean, I’ve known you’ve liked me since grade school, and it’s not like I’ve tried to hide that I like you.” Teasing you gently as he titters at your shocked expression and blushing cheeks. Dropping your head in embarrassment, you sigh deeply before meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Before grade school actually,” you whisper softly, and a shocked look replaces his smile as a light dusting of pink crawls over his cheeks. “Since I first moved in next door…” adding quietly as your gaze falls to the floor, but not before you catch a glimpse of Kiryu’s ears turning red.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He asks, genuinely curious with his brows raised.

“Because,” you release an exasperated sigh as you meet his gaze again. “You’re Kiryu Mitsuki and I’m just me,” you say - a little miserable by your own admission. Kiryu’s brow creases in utter confusion as he slowly shakes his head.

“Y/N, I have no idea what that means.” He admits, honestly, and a little concerned by how miserable you seem by the topic of conversation.

“I mean that you’re cool. And popular. And you have no problem being yourself, and a lot of people love that about you. People who are also good at being themselves,” explaining while moving your hands about with each of your points. Kiryu’s brow only furrows more as he moves from confused to perplexed. Taking a deep breath, you add, “I’m just me. I’m quiet. I’m awkward. I’m nerdy, and I just don’t know why anyone as cool as you would like me.” Admitting in a cracked voice as tears brim along your lash line. Kiryu still looks so completely thrown off, but you just give up trying to explain - releasing a tired sigh. After a silent beat, Kiryu’s calm voice breaks the silence.

“I’m only cool because of you, y’know.” Your head cocks at his words as one slippery tear drops down your cheek, and he nods before continuing. “You’re the one who cheers me on every time I do something like dye my hair pink or pierce my face, or just try to be myself. I’m cool for you, Y/N.” He explains earnestly as you deflate a little - all brewing arguments dying on your tongue. “I honestly could care less if anyone else thinks I’m cool, as long as you do. So, please, will you be my girlfriend already?” He asks solemnly, and after a long pause you nod dumbly at him, and then you nod quicker as your face breaks into a bright smile.

“You’ve been trying to be cool for me?” Giggling out softly to him as you wipe away the tears in your eyes - starting to feel a little ridiculous for how you’ve denied your feelings for so long.

”Desperately,” he breathes out - obviously relieved that his feelings have finally reached you. Another fit of giggles strikes you as you lean a little closer to Kiryu - looking up at him through your lashes.

“That makes me so happy Kiryu - of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” gushing excitedly up at him. And even though Kiryu knew he probably shouldn’t, he can’t help but lean forward and press an excited kiss to your cheek. Immediately you tense up and turn a bright red, and when he leans back he’s struck with a fit of giggles at your shocked expression.

After that, the two of you were officially dating, and though he hasn’t kissed you again, Kiryu will also occasionally hold your hand. Although he can feel you’re tense and awkward, he stills wants to do it and show everyone else you’ve moved from friendship into a relationship. You aren’t uncomfortable to the point that this bothers you - you’re just really conscious of the fact that you two are holding hands which makes you feel a little awkward.

Finally, your awkwardness around physical touch comes to a head one day when Kiryu is holding your hand - a blush radiating from your cheeks the whole time - when he suddenly lets you go to assist a shopkeeper with hanging a plant. When he returned to your side, he didn’t immediately grab your hand again like he usually did. A bit confused, you walk along a little longer expecting him to remember at some point, but he’s just babbling about some video game as a notch forms in your brow. Eventually - while he’s mid sentence - you stubbornly reach out and take his hand in yours, gripping it firmly.

“Oh, and that one level-” Kiryu stops and looks down at your smaller hand holding onto him by his fingers, and then looks back up and has to stifle a laugh at your expression. You’re looking at him with that same notch in your brow, your lips pulled in a small pout, and slight betrayal in your eyes. “I’m sorry - did you want to keep holding my hand?” Asking in a teasing tone with a slight arch of his brow.

Blushing furiously up to your ears as your expression turns shocked and you quickly look away, but don’t let go of his hand. Humming a small ‘mhm’ as the two of you keep walking. Kiryu titters to himself, but doesn’t tease you further since you finally touched him.

Holding firmly onto his hand until you were settled on a bean bag in his bedroom, as he sets up a 2 player game on his console across the room. Without turning around, he breaks the awkward silence in his signature calm tone.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve held my hand…” he says with an obvious smile in his voice. Proven when he turned around and the corners of his mouth were turned up. “Anything you want to talk about?” Asking in a knowing tone as he arches a brow at your expression.

Nodding slowly - that notch from earlier back in your brow, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and hands clasped in your lap as you twirl your thumbs. Laughing lightly, Kiryu nods at you to go ahead.

“I-I don’t know why,” you start in a timid voice - eyes darting back and forth, “but I get really self conscious and awkward when we hold hands.” Meeting his gaze for a moment as he nods again for you to continue. “But I really like it too, and I think I would like to touch you more… but I’m just so awkward I can feel it in my bones. I don’t know how not to be, or how to just let myself enjoy it, y’know?” Finishing in an uncertain tone as you tilt your head forward to look at him through your lashes. Kiryu is just staring back at you with the most amused expression - a scheming look in his eyes.

“I have a few ideas of how to help with that,” offering in a low tone that you’ve never heard him use before as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Slowly, you nod your head without breaking eye contact. Kiryu crawls over to where you’re seated on the bean bag, and sits on his knees in front of you. “Can I hold you?” Asking with a tilt of his head as he holds his arms out to you, again, you nod slowly.

Wordlessly, Kiryu scoops you up and sits himself down in the bean bag chair before sitting you on his lap. Your legs are bent in front of you between his legs, his arms are loosely wrapped around you, and your back flush to his chest. Kiryus gently places his chin on top of your head. At first, you’re incredibly tense and so red you’re sure you’re radiating heat at this point. Kiryu just calmly sits there without moving until you ever so gradually relax into him - eyes wide and expression uncertain.

Ever so slowly, he begins letting his hands drift down over your skirt to caress your bare legs, feather light touches cascade over your skin making you squirm and blush. Kiryu laughs through his nose, but doesn’t cease his movement. It was almost imperceivable as he leaned forward and let his lips ghost over your earlobe to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Turning your head swiftly to meet his gaze, but Kiryu had already leaned back and over to the side to place another kiss to the nape of your neck while you were turned away.

This game of cat and mouse continued - Kiryu’s fingertips ghosting over your bare legs and arms, only barely over your ribs at times, while he peppered kisses on your cheeks, neck and shoulders - the whole time you maneuvering and craning your neck to try and look him in his vibrant green eyes. Finally, when you let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chest while crossing your arms - Kiryu devolved into a fit of laughter at your annoyed pout.

“Do you want me to stop?” Kiryu asked in a teasing tone, and you instantly released another sigh while turning your head to the side. He starts to pull his arms back while speaking in that same teasing tone. “You just had to say so,” he breathes against the shell of your ear as he begins to lean away from you, but you quickly grab his wrists to stop him. Pulling him forward slightly, you wrap his arms around your torso and lean back into his chest again.

“I-I want… more…” muttering through your stubborn pout, still refusing to meet your boyfriend’s gaze. Kiryu chuckles low before smiling serenely at your embarrassed demeanor.

Tightening his arms around you, he leaned forward until his chin rested on your shoulder, and then he whispered, “You just had to say so,” fanning hot breath over your skin.

Swiftly, Kiryu repositions you so you’re cradled in his arms and peering up into his mischievous green eyes with a surprised expression on your face. Stifling a laugh at your blushing cheeks and wide eyes, he bends down to place a kiss to your forehead before peppering kisses all over your face and neck. At first you tense and flinch under his affection, but gradually you loosen up and lean into him more and more until you fall into a fit of blushing giggles.

Kiryu pauses in his affectionate attack to hug you tightly to him and bury his nose in your hair until you both calm down a bit. A wide grin tugging at his lips at how good it feels to finally hold you like this. After a few moments, you wordlessly meet his serene gaze, and without warning you cup his cheeks in your hands before leaning up and slotting your lips with his. Kiryu freezes for a moment - stunned and red in the face - until he relaxes and kisses you back, tightening his hold on you even more.After parting from the kiss, both of you stare at each other warmly for a long moment, before devolving into a fit of giggles together this time.

From this day on, you really don’t have any qualms with holding Kiryu’s hand or sharing a kiss. Now, your favorite thing he does is when he gives a surprise hug from behind while pressing a kiss to your cheek. In private, Kiryu and you often sit in the same bean bag - him in it and you in between his legs - when playing video games or watching a movie. You don’t feel awkward at all any more, and just relish in being able to enjoy your boyfriend’s loving touches.

It wasn’t until the two of you graduated and were living in the same apartment on campus that your relationship went a step further. After the first semester, you surprised Kiryu with a nice homemade dinner and told him that you were ready once the meal was finished. Knowing this was coming eventually, he eagerly cleared the table as you went to get ready without question.

For tonight you bought an olive green, retro lingerie set that was a bralette and a pair of high waisted underwear. To wear over it you purchased a silky pink robe - as close to Kiryu’s hair as you could find - with lace trim around the sleeves and bottom hemline. Once you are touched up and adorned in your outfit, you step out into the living room to find Kiryu waiting patiently on the couch.

The moment his gaze locks on you, those vibrant green eyes are set ablaze like Greek Fire, and it almost burns where they travel over you. After he’s thoroughly snapped the mental image of you looking like the birth of Aphrodite emerging from the hallway - he holds his hand out to you palm up. Crossing the room with a shy smile tugging at your lips, you take his hand and let him lead you to stand in front of him in between his legs.

“I like this,” breathing out heavily as he runs his fingertips along the opening of the robe before smoothing his palms over the velvet hugging your hips. Kiryu continues caressing his hands along your velvety clad curves as his eyes fill with lusty adoration.

“I bought it for you,” you admit softly, and Kiryu’s eyes snap to your face - a little confused. He didn’t want to assume, but who else would you buy it for? Giggling softly at his expression, you point at the green velvet, “your eyes,” and then you grasp the sleeve of the robe in your other hand to hold up to him, “your hair. Though I couldn’t find the right green, so I had to settle.” Adding with a small pout, but Kiryu barely registers the last thing you said as he leans back against the couch to take you in fully once more.

If he had been looking at you with pure adoration before, then this may be closer to worship with his eyes wide, lips slightly parted and brows raised. It felt like he was hit by a Mack Truck - he honestly felt like he couldn’t be any more in love with you, until now.

“Pink and Green aren’t even your favorite colors though,” chuckling lightly while shaking his head at you. Ever since the two of you were young you always said you enjoyed nude colors, you just feel more yourself in them.

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite color,” murmuring with a bashful smile as a blush creeps up your chest all the way to the tips of your ears. Kiryu’s virescent eyes widen before he reaches forward and grabs you by the hips and pulls you down into his lap so you’re sitting on one of his thighs. Without missing a beat, he begins pressing open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck.

“I’m your favorite color?” He asks teasingly as he nips at your collarbone before pulling back to meet your half lidded gaze with his heated one. “Promise?” Whispering against your mouth and you subtly nod before slotting your lips with his. Kiryu titters into the kiss as he repositions you both to lay on the couch - you on your back and Kiryu’s hips slotted between your thighs.

Your boyfriend is agonizingly slow with his ministrations - trailing his lips down your neck and over you shoulder, slipping the rob off of you as he peppers kisses down your arm to your fingertips. Then, trailing his lips back up your arm, placing open mouth kisses where the strap of your bralette was as he pulls it off your shoulder. Moving down, he begins kissing along the hem of the bralette across your ribs as he slowly lifts the velvety fabric and pulls it off of you.

Before going in farther, Kiryu’s verdant orbs cut to your face again - searching for any sign of discomfort. But all he finds is unbridled excitement and lust as you nod eagerly for him to continue. You see Kiryu take a deep breath to steady himself before turning his attention back to your bare chest. Ever so slowly he brings both hands up to palm them lightly - gently squeezing and rolling the satisfying fat under his hand before moving his hands to cup under them so he can dip his face into the valley of your breasts. First, he places open mouthed kisses along the insides of them before moving to pepper kisses along the tops of your mounds. Then, finally, he brings his lips to over one pert nipple before licking it with the tip of his tongue, and then Kiryu wraps his mouth around it completely. At the same time he moves to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. The new sensations are overwhelming, causing you to arch your back and with it your chest even closer to his hands and mouth. Quiet whines and moans fall from your lips and into Kiryu’s ears causing him to grin against your sensitive skin.

When your soft sounds become more desperate, Kiryu finally makes his way down - littering kisses and gentle nips across your ribs, then down the center of your abdomen until his lips halt at the hemline of your underwear. Casting his gaze up through his lashes at you, he silently waits for permission to continue, and you bite your bottom lip anxiously before giving him a determined nod. Ever so slowly, Kiryu hooks his fingers into the top of your underwear before sliding them down to your ankles - watching your expression closely and giving you ample time to change your mind.

Once the garment is deposited on the floor, Kiryu leans back on his heels to stare at you in all your glory. Goosebumps pucker along your flushed skin as you squirm under his unabashed gaze, and then he reaches out to splay his hand over your abdomen before ghosting it down over your hip and up your thigh to rest on your bent knee. Vibrant, pastoral eyes following the path of his hand - watching the shiver that runs through your muscles from his touch. The expression that crosses his face is the same when he beats a difficult game - triumph and satisfaction.

Slowly bending forward, he brings his lips to your other knee - keeping your legs spread apart - as he gently grabs under your calf with his other hand and extends the leg he’s kissing. Trailing pecks and love bites up your calf to your ankle, where he pauses to cut those heated green eyes to you before grinning deviously as he places your ankle on his shoulder and begins working his way back down. Halting at your knee to bite the back of your knee, causing you to jump and your slick cunt to clench eagerly, before he drags his tongue along the sensitive skin there, then he places a long and sloppy kiss there. Your breathing becomes uneven as his grip on your thigh tightens and his thumb starts tracing circles on your other knee.

“Kiry-u!” Moaning desperately as the string in your abdomen begins to tighten. Grinning wide into your skin, and you shiver while releasing a shaky breath at the sensation of his teeth against the sensitive area. Pulling his lips away, he then leans forward completely - sliding your knees onto his shoulders - until he’s face to face with your drooling pussy. Those Greek Fire eyes have become hungry as he looks up at you from between your thighs for permission.

“Can I kiss you here too?” He asks, oh so innocently, with a slight raise of his eyebrows and everything, but the mischievous look in his gaze betrays his tone. Regardless, you nod with a breathless “uh-huh”. Kiryu’s eyes fall back to your glistening folds as he drags his palms to your hips to grip them and pull you closer. First, he leans forward until his nose bumps that sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to hiss, and then he breathes in deeply before releasing a long, satisfied sigh. Warm air fans your folds, shooting a shiver up your spine, and then Kiryu ever so slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Back arching off the couch, you unintentionally push your dripping core closer to his eager mouth and without missing a beat he latches his mouth onto you. Licking up your arousal while mapping out your folds up to your clit with the tip of his tongue, and then he maneuvers his wet muscle down to your entrance. Teasing it slowly at first by pushing the tip of his tongue just through that ring of muscle and then pulling it back before pushing it again, over and over again at a leisurely pace that was making you lose your mind. Even more so by the way his fingertips were digging into the fat of your hips bruisingly - holding you tightly in place.

When you finally reach down and card your finger through his rose colored locks - gripping on tightly as you buck into his mouth - Kiryu relinquishes and pushes his tongue fully through the ring of muscle to glide along your gummy walls. Groaning deeply as his eyes roll back into his head as his ministrations become more insistent, the vibration only makes you buck harder into him as you cry out desperately for more. Kiryu moans approvingly into your clenching core as he grips and pulls on your hips to wordlessly tell you to keep grinding against him. Following his silent direction, you grip his hair harder and pull him closer as you grind shamelessly on his lithe tongue.

Suddenly, the string in your abdomen becomes so taught it finally snaps, and with it your release comes crashing over you. Arching your back off the couch as Kiryu’s name is ripped from your lips in a breathy cry and every muscle in your body tenses with euphoria before they relax - pleasure washing through your being - as you collapse back onto the couch. Kiryu pulls his tongue back, but doesn’t stop his ministrations - gradually slowing as you come down from your orgasm. After you’ve relaxed entirely - boneless as you catch your breath - your boyfriend continues licking your folds, cleaning you and drinking every last drop of you.

Once he’s finished, and finally comes up for air - an immensely satisfied look on his face - he regards your flushed cheeks and drowsy eyes. Grinning ear to ear, he lays down beside you and pulls you flush to his chest. “Thank you for the meal,” he breathes against your temple before pressing a loving kiss there as you curl into him and murmur a soft, tired ‘thank you’ in return.

It wasn’t long before you are drifting off to sleep in Kiryu’s arms - him holding you so securely as he continues peppering kisses into your hair and whispering sweet nothings.

‘You taste utterly divine,’ ‘I love the faces you make when you cum - you're so beautiful Y/N’, ‘I can't wait make you scream like that again’.

Until he finally drifted off to sleep with his nose still buried in your hair and a serene smile tugging at his lips.

After this it still takes some time for you two to go all the way, but that was mostly because of Kiryu. He said you’re an overachiever by nature and would focus on his pleasure before you ever found out how good he could make you feel. So you followed his lead, and you were glad you did because it wasn’t long before Kiryu showed you just how well he knows your body.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker boys x touch starved reader #pernesophe #SP's Headspace

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