#findorr

text :: « you read the ingredients of crab sticks: nothing but chemicals. // and suddenly you find your name in the ingredients of crab sticks. »

Findorr

It flusters him horribly every time. No matter how many times you do it, Findorr has a minor mental keysmash with each one. It's partially because of the sheer amount of trust in him you're offering... and partially because a sort of second-hand embarrassment is kicking in hard. When he sees you making yourself so openly, trustingly vulnerable for him, the thought creeps in of what it would feel like if he did the same in return.

Avirama

Quit messing with him!! That's not funny! Avirama isn't sure if you're trying to disturb him or just trying to get a reaction, but it's definitely working. Every time you lie back and expose way too much vulnerable skin, it hits like being stabbed. As he starts to understand that you're doing it to show how much you love him, it almost gets harder to handle. The emotional response that kind of trust drags out of him is overwhelmingly intense.

Charlotte

The show of trust gets to him. A lot. It's strange to imagine a human, of all things, willingly offering up such vulnerability, but the sight of it from someone he loves gives Charlotte all kinds of soft feelings. Expect plenty of gushing over how sweet you are every time you do that— and it's obvious that he's not fully expressing how much that gesture affects him. You're truly precious, to have so much faith in something like him.

Poww

He really doesn't know how to respond to that. You're so very small and weak next to him— there's no need to highlight your inherent vulnerability even more. At the same time, though, your willingness to show your trust in him is oddly impactful. He's not at all worthy of such open affection from anyone, and it's almost uncomfortable, for a while, to see you giving that exact thing so freely. Do you not understand what that means to him?

Ggio

You'll see his face going red every time you casually tip your head back around him. As much as Ggio would like to act cool and unaffected by what you keep doing, he ends up flustered and trying not to show it without fail. You're supposed to be above him! Showing weakness like this isn't fair. It's hard to understand why you trust him so much, and even harder to process the weird, soft feelings for you that the sight of that trust gives him.

Nirgge

It's kind of uncomfortable to see you do that, in a way where it's just... too intimate. Too trusting. It's one thing for you to put up with him, in the first place. Going out of your way to be vulnerable around him is just too much emotional softness for Nirgge to tolerate well. He won't tell you to stop, but it's not hard to notice that he's affected by what you're doing and trying his best not to show it. Humans really are stupid, if you can act like this so easily.

Di-Roy

My dream fight is Jugram vs Findorr vs Rojuro

Three blond men with RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL HAIR that was animated to near perfection for no reason.

I just need to know their hair products.

Context behind this doodle is that there have been instances that I used my Shuuhei plush and/or phone strap as a catalyst to summon him or Kensei but Findorr ends up coming home instead ^^;

48. “Shall we put that mouth to better use?”

You put him on his knees in front of you, close enough that he can duck his head against your thigh to hide— a mercy, with what’s coming next. 

Findorr doesn’t let himself do that yet, though. Even kneeling and stripped bare, it’s not that easy to let go of his pride. Cover up weakness at any cost. Don’t acknowledge anything that someone stronger could use against you. That’s how survival works, under Barragan’s command. 

So even when you stroke two fingers under his chin and tip his head up to face you, he tries to manage normal— “Is this all? I thought you’d had more entertaining plans in mind than putting me at your feet.”

“You’re bored? Then, shall we put that mouth to better use?”

With amusement in your voice, you move your fingers up to his mouth. Findorr, though tempted to make another smart remark, decides against it. He obediently parts his lips enough for those fingers to slip inside. The easy confidence in how you stroke over his tongue makes his stomach flush hot with want. There’s nothing rough or painful about it, but there’s also no mistaking that you expect him to submit.

Hooking your fingers downward, you push his jaw open wider, and hold it there until a thin trail of saliva escapes down his chin. Findorr swallows, throat constricting awkwardly around nothing, and fights the urge to squirm under the look of open fondness in your eyes. You’ve hardly touched him, and yet, that familiar, needy ache is starting to form between his legs. 

Soon enough, his thighs are slick when they rub together. It’s getting harder to stay still, especially while all but muzzled by the intrusion in his mouth. The combination of taste and fullness is altogether too much sensation, overwhelming in its unfamiliarity alone. 

“Getting desperate?” you ask, even though there’s no way he could give you a coherent answer like this. “Here, I’ll be nice and let you...”

Suddenly, you move. Your foot nudges his legs apart until there’s space to fit between them, and then presses up against where he’s wet and oversensitive and painfully untouched— not firmly, but enough. 

Findorr can’t hold back the whine that follows. It’s muffled by your fingers, somewhat, but still embarrassingly audible. His hands snap up to rest on your lap, and it’s only whatever scraps of self-control he has left that prevent him from trying to cling. You’re human, fragile. Too much force would hurt you— and the same goes for any attempt to close his mouth.

Your ankle shifts, rubbing over the thin, frilly folds of skin left fully exposed by his arousal. Every nerve unanimously flares in protest, and his hips rock forward into it on sheer instinct, seeking pleasure while his mind (and sense of dignity) are preoccupied with your fingers on his tongue. 

86. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

You kiss up his thighs until his body starts to relax. He softens up for you, quite literally, and the sensation of the space between his legs slowly giving up its protective shell is both pleasant and much too vulnerable.

“Pretty boy,” you tell him, then trail your kisses all the way to the seam where leg meets pelvis. It’s so close to where his nerves ache for touch.

When your fingers trail over his belly, the lower parts of it, Findorr’s muscles twitch under the touch. He’s bare for you. You can see far too much skin, and the instinctive parts of his brain that register you as a predator keep telling him to roll over and plead not to be hurt. Somehow, that thrill is only making his body soften up quicker. Open up for you like it wants.

Then, you're touching there. First, you trail a light bit of contact up his outer labia, where the texture is still a little firm. There’s not a lot of sensation there, yet, but it’s still a shock to his system. But all too suddenly, your fingertips dip between the harder parts and find the little frills in between. The lightest brush there is a shock right up his spine. Findorr stifles a yelp. He bites down on his hand to hide the whiny little noise.

You stroke him there until he gets wet, until there’s a layer of slick and he’s squirming restlessly under your continued touch. Then, you slide a finger right into the tight little hole that makes his whole body twitch.

“These are so pretty...” you say, and don’t do anything more.

Instead of anything more intense, you just toy with his frills, occasionally nudging your finger back inside to feel the way his walls cling to you. It’s enough pleasure to leave him shivering, but nowhere near enough to make that edge start to climb. It’s just— teasing. Almost clinical.

Soon enough, Findorr can’t help but squirm. The way you’re staring at the place where his hole sucks you in is downright embarrassing, especially when he feels himself clench and flutter around the small intrusion.

“W-Would you hurry this up...” he mumbles, trying not to squeak when you crook your finger up just right. You hum and drag against his insides, testing, smiling when the tight muscles in his thighs jump and twitch. “You’re t-teasing me. I don’t appreciate it. Just h-hurry up and—” This time, he is cut off. You lean in and lick around where you’re holding him open.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” you say as you pull back. “Don’t let it. I’m just admiring you, my sweet, perfect Hollow.”

Yylfordt

As you’d expect, he’s ready to be the tough guy and insist that nothing you, a human, could do is ever going to get to him. Even when he really knows better. You have to make him come over and over again to get him thoroughly emptied out, and that turns out to be far too much for his blustering to handle. Yylfordt winds up a trembling wreck, practically begging you to stop even though he knows that if you stop now, he’ll just hurt later from the build-up in his swollen balls. 

Di-Roy

Pathetic little thing that he is, Di-Roy gets weak after even one orgasm. He’s sensitive all over even normally, but after he’s come, that gets twice as bad. He’ll forgo all pride in favor of begging pretty quickly, although it’s unclear if he wants you to stop or keep touching him. Just having contact with you is bliss, so even though this is way too much, Di-Roy won’t make you stop even when he’s actually sobbing. He’s beyond humiliated, but in a way, it feels good to have his body used like this. 

Findorr

At first, he brags and boasts that he’ll be just fine, no matter what you do! But after he’s come even once, Findorr starts realizing the error of his words. He’s too proud to ask you to stop, so he winds up biting down on his hand to hold back desperate curses and sobs while you keep stretching him open and finding every way-too-sensitive spot he has. By the time he’s choking back tears, the pleasure is starting to make him brainless. What he’s feeling isn’t either plain or pleasure anymore— just a lot. 

Ggio

Eager to please as he is, Ggio wants to force himself through as many orgasms as you want from him. Even when that means your fingers toying with his barbs until he feels like he’s going to cry, when they’re painfully ultra-sensitive after you’ve already made him come three times, he doesn’t want to admit defeat and risk disappointing you. He’ll insist that he’s fine even when he’s actually sobbing— not wanting to seem weak, or worse, not fulfill what you expected him to be able to do. 

Avirama