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13folklore13 · 3 years ago

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Absolutely devoted to you

Erwin Smith x fem!reader

Warnings: a little smutty (i dont know how i feel about this)

a/n: i recently wrote this for a friend of mine and now i thought why not post it on here as well. Please excuse any grammar mistakes etc. English isn’t my first language. This is also my first Erwin ff ever so please bare with me and tell me what you think!

As you opened the door, a light breeze welcomed you. You stood there in the doorframe, your hand still on the doorknob and looked around. It was already late at night, but the moonlight lit up the entire office. There was a feeling of discomfort inside of you. Something that wanted to stop you from stepping foot into the office. You turned around to look down the hallway. This is my only chance, you thought and stepped into the room. You closed the door behind you, careful not to make any sounds. When the door closed, silence filled the room. The room that was once filled with laughter, joy, and warmth. The room once welcomed you like a warm embrace. But now there was no laughter or joy or a warm embrace. Even though everything still looked the same, nothing felt familiar. His books were still sitting neatly in the bookshelf. His desk was still filled with papers he needed to read. And in the back of the room stood his made bed. But all his books haven’t been read in a while, the papers on his desk were coated with a layer of dust and his bed looked like it hasn’t been used in ages.

You were still standing at the door. You didn’t dare to move. No one else was in his office, however you still looked for him. Just for something of him. You walked towards the centre of the room and wrapped your arms around your middle. Someone was here before you and opened a window. That must be the reason I can’t smell him. You went to his bookshelf and pulled out a book. Ironically it landed on that book.

“Erwin, why do you have that book in your bookshelf?”, you laughed and turned towards his desk where he was sitting, “Never took you for a poetry lover.” You flicked through the book that was familiar to you. “And why is that?”, he walked towards you and leaned against the shelf. “I just never thought you could dedicate your heart to something else than to the survey corps”, you teased him and turned one of the pages. You paused as you saw a little note at the end of the page. Her favourite. It was your favourite poem. You looked up to him, to find him already looking at you with his ice blue eyes. You lifted the book and said, “You knew what my favourite poem was? How?” He scratched the back of his neck and let out a low chuckle. You gasped. Erwin Smith was flustered. “Sascha told me”, confusion painted your face. None of your friends knew that you and Erwin shared feelings for each other. He requested to keep your relationship private as long as the world was cruel. “Well, she didn’t exactly tell me, but I overheard you guys talking about your favourite poem and the way Sascha worded it, it seemed that you already told her about that poem a million times. That’s why I thought, when it really means that much to you, I should read it.” You were stunned. You grew quite used to hearing Sascha and the others complaining about you none stop talking about it. But to hear that someone would genuinely be interest into something you loved so dearly overwhelmed you quite a bit. “I – well, I didn’t expect that”, you stuttered, and Erwin tilted his head. “You do realise that I care for you deeply, do you? It’s just fair that I care about your interest as deeply as you care about mine.” You had no words. If you hadn’t realised his love to you, you did now. You put the book at its place again and moved forward to wrap your arms around him. His arms closed behind your back, and he pressed you to his chest. His forehead met yours and you inhaled his scent. “Thank you, Erwin.”

Water dropped onto the pages of the book and that’s when you realised that you started crying. You dried the pages with your arm and wiped away your tears. But your lips started to quiver. Your eyes filled with tears again as your body felt insanely cold. You hugged the book close to your chest. You tilted your head back and let out a few hasty breaths. A strong breeze made you shiver and look back at the window. You put the book back at its place again and moved to the window. “Who opened this fucking window”, you whispered and closed the window and the curtain. You puffed out a sigh and turned to face the room again. But your eye drifted to the right. You closed your eyes again, debating if you should just leave his office and end the torture, but as you were thinking about it, you already sank down on the bed.

It felt the same, even after months. Your hands brushed over the bed sheets and stopped when you felt something paper like under the sheets. You lifted the sheets and pulled out a sheet of paper. Once your eyes drifted over it, you closed them and pressed the piece of parchment paper against your chest. Tears streamed down your cheeks again as your back met the mattress.

“Can’t this wait”, Erwin grunted, pressed a pillow on his face. It was 1 am when you entered his office to share the night. All Erwin wanted to do was to press you against his chest, to feel your warmth, your breath, your kisses, your touch- “Of course not! This is the perfect moment for this”, you exclaimed and straddled his lap, your night gown rid up. You removed the pillow and flew it across the room, accidentally knocking his papers from his desk. “sorry”, you chuckled quietly, earning a grunt as an answer. “Alright”, he sighed and put his arms behind his head, his muscular chest now flexing, “what do you want to show me.” But all you could do was stare at him. “You still there?”, he laughed, and you rolled his eyes and slapped his broad chest. “Oh shut it.” You stretched your arms behind you, to grab your jacket and Erwins hands gripped your hips, to usure you that you wouldn’t fall off him, of course. When your hands grabbed the jacket, you pulled it towards you and grabbed the desired paper. You let the jacket fall of the bed, pressed the paper to your chest and grinned brightly at Erwin, who was looking at you with raised eyebrows. “So, it’s not perfect, but I’ve worked really hard on it and-“, you felt his hands squeeze your hips. “I’m sure I will love it.” The assuring smile he gave you clamed you down. You returned his smile and gave him the paper. His hands left your hips and took the paper from you. His mouth gasped open, and his eyes switched from the paper to your flustered face. He looked back at the paper where he saw the both of you sitting next to each other. Your bodies were turned to each other with your knees touching. Your hands were placed in your lap and Erwin’s hands were holding them. Both of you were wearing civilian clothes, something he had never seen you in before. “w-what is this”, he couldn’t believe what he saw.

You wrung your hands and a blushed creeped up on your cheeks. “Well, I thought, because we cannot go to get our real portrait done, that I would draw one for us. You could also see it as a promise: When all of this is done, we’ll get a real one done for us, in civilian clothes and everything”, a chuckle escaped your mouth. Erwin wanted to marry you right then and there. He has never met anyone who devoted him as much as you do. And deep down he knew that he would never be deserving of your love. He knew that he couldn’t promise you what you wanted, even if he wanted it to become true. He glanced at it one last time before he dropped it on his bedside table. He sat up and wrapped his arms around you. Your hands found his hair and brushed through them, “I assume you like it.” He cupped your cheeks and pulled you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. He wanted to say something. He wanted to thank you, to tell you that he would cherish it until he takes his last breath. But no words left his mouth. Everything he wanted to say, never left his mouth. So, before he could tear up, he pressed his lips on yours and tangled his hands in your hair. Your breath got stuck in your throat. The man who was known for his speeches couldn’t say anything to you. All he could give to you, was his love. And you accepted it gratefully.

Your lips moved in sync. His tongue dancing with yours. His hands pulled slightly at your hair, so that he could tilt your head back. His lips found your neck and kissed you so lightly, you begging desperately for more. His lips travelled up to your ear, kissing it and whispering, “Thank you.” One of his hands cupped your cheek as the other grabbed your hip. In a smooth motion, he turned the both of you around so that he was hovering over you. You gazed into his depth of blue sapphire, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked right back at you. He closed the distance between you to so that his lips would slightly touch yours. “Do you know that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me?”, he breathed and pecked your lips just for a second. He took your hands and pinned your arms above you. His hands were sliding down your arms, making you shiver. As his hands moved down your sides, his lips trailed down your neck to your collarbones. Kissing every part of you. “Do you know that I would do everything for you”, he said as he caressed that one sensitive spot on your neck. You hummed in response and closed your eyes in anticipation. You could feel him lift your night gown. When you opened your eyes, you could see him staring at you. Like you were his most sacred possession. He tore his eyes from you when he felt your hands traveling up his chest. As your hands met his cheeks, he closed his eyes and leaned into your warmth. You pulled him towards you. Yours and his face centimetres away from each other. He opened his eyes again and pressed his forehead against yours. Both of you holding eye contact as his body interwind with yours, a moan escaping from both of your mouths. His hands held onto your hips as yours caressed his cheeks. Your bodies moving so perfectly together, like they were made for each other, like an old dance they’ve memorized. His hands travelled up and down your sides, making you giggle. “That tickles”, you breathed and earned a low chuckle from Erwin, his hands grabbing your neck. He leaned in closer to you so that his nose brushed yours. He moved his nose up and down the bridge of yours, inhaling your scent. “You are so good to me”, he says, both of you becoming breathless. You placed your lips on his and whispered against them, “Because you make me good, Erwin”, you panted as his body moved faster. He wrapped his arms around you as he pressed himself closer to you, “I’m..”, he whispered and you nodded in return, “Me too.” When you looked up at his eyes, you could feel the knot in your stomach growing stronger and stronger as you closed your eyes again pressing your head into the pillow, welcoming the overwhelming feeling that overtook you. As he reached his high, you could hear him whisper, “I am absolutely devoted to you.”

“Oh god”, you cried as you buried your face into his pillow. You thought that you could survive this. That you could live a life without him, but even after months of trying you failed. You would usually try again right after you failed a training session or would prepare better for a expedition. And at first you tried to wake up everyday with a good feeling. That today would be the day you could go without breaking down. But you failed every day. It haunted you that he could’ve been saved. That he could have been the one to receive the serum instead of Armin. And you felt horrible whishing that Armin would be the one who died. But waking up every day without him, moving forward without him, people slowly forgetting him or replacing him broke you. It haunted you that you couldn’t give him a proper funeral, that you couldn’t mourn in public. You thought that visiting his office could give you some peace, but every corner of his room remined you of the things you both never got to experience together.

Then suddenly the door to his office opened, making you jump from his bed. “Hange!”, you exclaimed. They instantly stood still when they saw you. “y/n! I didn’t expect you here”, they said, clearly stunned to see you. You let out a few chuckles and moved towards them. “Oh, you know, when I crossed the hallways, I heard the window making some weird sounds so I thought that I would check on it and surprise, surprise the window was open”, you stammered. You stood in front of Hange now and were glad that the room was to dark to see your face, “But now it’s closed so I will go now, good night Hange!”, you smiled and tried to pass them as they grabbed your arm. Your breath got stuck as you faced them. They were looking down as they said, “He told me.” Hange now lifted their head to look straight into your eyes, “Erwin told me about you two before he died.” Tears started to glitter in your eyes. “He did?”, you whispered. Hanges’s hand was now on your arm as they brushed it comforting. They nodded, “He asked me to look after you.” Your lips started to quiver. “I always thought that you’d cope well with his death.” You shook your head as your tears started to stream down your face. “I- I”, you cried, “I can’t breathe.” Hange’s arms flew around you as they hugged you tightly. Even if you whished to be embraced by a different commander, you felt like that they were send to you at the perfect time. As if someone was watching over you.

#snk erwin #erwin x y/n #erwin smut #erwin smith #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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parkers-gal · 4 years ago

Note

Tom x reader where reader wants to move out & live with Tom only (not with boys). Tom doesn’t want to move out, maybe Nikki has a talk with him

the one T.H.

➢ a / n | went a lil overboard, heh, but enjoy this ! sorry it took a lil while :,(

➢ wc | 2.5k <3

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

There’s too many dishes in the sink, you note. There’s so many, that they won’t all fit for one load in the dishwasher. It’s a pain, and you know nobody in this house has the patience to wait for two full loads to carry through, so you have to hand wash half of them and allow the whirring machine to do the other half.

If this were a romantic comedy, you’d have Tom standing next to you and you’d hold hands under the suds while you wash the dishes together and chat about your future. This isn’t a rom-com, though. In fact, you don’t even know where the boys are right now. You were certain they went into the den to play Call Of Duty — or whatever it is that they play — but then you thought they went into the backyard with Tessa, but now you’ve just given up on figuring their whereabouts.

Not that you’re angry at Tom for not helping, though. He did the laundry with you earlier, so you’re content with his keeping end of the deal. It’s the other four that you’re a bit fed up with. Sam had just recently joined the Holland-Osterfield-Barrett household of mates, and while you’re all the more happy to welcome him in, it also means more work. There’s a chore schedule, but sometimes someone has work in a town or a country away, and the gaps in the schedule are only ever left for you to fill.

It’s tough, considering you have your own job, but you’re content with the situation — for now. You have Tom, the love of your life, and you have the best people of your life - Harry, one of your closest confidants, and Harrison, one of your partners in crime.

There’s a lot of baggage that comes with being the only woman in a household of boys that practically grew up with each other. You love Tessa with all your heart, but it’s not like you can really gossip to her about your day.

You’re not too worried about everything, anyway. The second anniversary of your relationship with Tom is coming up; it’s only a few months away, and though you’ve been pondering the idea for awhile, you’re thinking of getting a place with Tom, on your own, without the nagging and intruding fellow in-laws (to-be, hopefully).

Six weeks, today marks, for how long you’ve been thinking about the idea, debating whether it’s valid enough to bring up to Tom, deciding when the best time to talk to him would be. He’s a hard man to navigate — getting a spot in his busy schedule is like fighting to the front of a One Direction mosh-pit. That makes it practically impossible.

But, you’re Y/N. You’re his sweetheart, his darling, his weakness. You’re the most important person in his life, and when you want to have a serious conversation with him, Tom’s all ears and eyes, attentive and caring, understanding and, hopefully, supportive.

You’re hoping it won’t take much convincing — he’s lived with these people all his life, and if it’s truly hard for him to decide, you’ll know what he really wants then.

Ringing out a few glass cups, you let them dry on a dish rack that sits on the countertop. The buzzing and whirring of the dishwasher alerts you that it’s still happily running, and you walk towards the glass sliding doors that lead to the patio and backyard. Peering out, you see all four housemates and Paddy, playing with a frisbee and wrestling with Tessa and messing around with a rugby ball on the trampoline. They look like kindergarteners on the playground, and you decide then to bring them some lemonade like a mother in summertime.

“Hope you’re all a bit thirsty,” you set the tray down with a warm smile. Sam shuts his book of poetry to smile up at you from his seat. He’s been reading for a good fifteen minutes, but you reckon he’ll hop on the trampoline when Harrison gets off. For now, he watches as the Irregulars star jumps happily with Tuwaine.

“Oh, sick,” Harry runs over with the frisbee still in his hands, reaching for a glass and taking a big gulp. Tessa’s at his feet, awaiting for the frisbee game to resume, and you pet her head for a moment before Tom runs over to you, hair matted to his forehead in sweat.

“You’re the best, love,” his hand finds the small of your back as he kisses your temple. You smile again, eyes shutting in bliss at the feeling of his lips, but his hand maneuvers you so he can reach for a glass without bumping into you.

One by one, they come over for refreshments, before picking up where they left off beforehand. Tom’s last to leave, wanting to talk to you before playing with his brothers again.

“Oh, I have to talk to you later,” you whisper, fingers tracing down his damp (sweaty) shirt with a giggle. Tom raises a brow, and you nod softly, “Just, when you have time. Now have fun,” you push him off, and though he’s still just as curious, he leaves you alone on the patio. Taking one last glance at the rowdy group of boys, you bring the tray of empty cups inside, sliding the door shut and sighing to yourself. More dishes to do.

——

Tom’s drying his hair with a purple bath towel when he comes out of the steamy bathroom. He sighs contentedly, before remembering your words from earlier. He brings it up, “What was it that you needed to talk to me about?”

He walks over to the dresser while you look up from your phone. You hum as Tom puts something away, and you shut the electronic device off, setting it on your nightstand and twisting to face his direction.

“I wanted to talk to you about… us, I guess.”

You see Tom’s movement slow, and he removes the towel from his damp curls, turning around hesitantly. You smile, waving him off, “Nothing bad, I promise.”

He lets out an inaudible “phew,” and nods. “Good.” You agree with a nod of your head, and he furthers on with the questions. “What is it, though? Is it something important?”

“I mean…” Tom places his towel on the rack before walking to the opposite side of the mattress “Sorta?” You offer, and you see the gears turn in his head. He sits down across from you, on the bed, and he smiles encouragingly, still a bit suspicious.

“Well, I’m all ears, darling.”

You smile at the familiar pet name, and with a final breath in, you admit what’s been in your head for the past few months. “I was thinking maybe we could… move out… without the boys.”

It’s dead quiet for a few beats while the words sink into his mind. You’re not sure how he’s going to react, but you watch to gauge his reaction.

His mouth opens, almost as if he’s about to say something, but then he closes it, as if he’d suddenly second guessed himself. For once, you truly can’t read him.

“I thought… I thought you liked living here?” he says softly, almost a bit saddened.

You sigh with your words, “I do! Really, I do, but…”

“But…?” He bites his lip.

“Well, I mean…” you exhale again, “We’ve been together for almost two years,” he’s still listening, “Don’t you think we should be a little more independent?”

“I mean, sure, if we were a normal couple.” He laughs at the joke, and while you do too, it’s not really genuine, but more forced for the awkward tension in the air. “I just thought you… y’know, enjoyed spending time with everyone.”

You nod understandingly. “I do, Tom. Really, I do. But… y’know, we’re not getting any younger. I just thought maybe it was time for us to get a place of our own.” It comes out as more of a suggestion, a question for him to respond to. You quietly bite your lip while Tom nods at the information he’s taking in.

He looks down at his fingers, before locking eyes with you. “Can I think about it?”

You shut your eyes softly while nodding. Tom blinks, before standing from the bed, giving you a kiss on the forehead and bidding farewell, heading downstairs for more quality time with his brothers.

——

It’s been a week since that conversation took place in your room. You didn’t think it’d go so… bad? You’re not sure if you should say that, because he didn’t exactly say “no,” he just didn’t seem enthusiastic about deciding at all.

It’s a quiet Saturday. You’re out bowling with a few of your friends, news of one of them getting engaged spreading like wildfire. She’s having a dinner party later, but for now, you’re keeping the meeting small, inviting your closest circle for the fun day at the bowling lanes.

Tom asked you if you wanted to reschedule the dinner with his family, but you insisted that arriving late would be fine. It’s only four o’clock — the Holland family likes to come for late lunch and spend the night playing games and drinking beer, until the clock strikes midnight and Paddy’s passing out in the backseat on the way back home.

At least now, only one Holland brother stays with the parents.

Somehow, someway, the conversation had shifted to you. Everyone’s gathered in the living room, scattered on sofas, couches, beanbags, armchairs, loveseats. Tom misses you at his side, but the conversation of how your work is going just reminds him of what you’d proposed a few days ago.

“How’re things with her in general, though?” Nikki, Tom’s mom, asks with a smile. The eyes shift towards Tom, and he can feel his face heating up.

“Yeah, how’re things with the lovebirds?” Harry teases.

Tom chuckles, anxiety bubbling in his stomach, twisting his. “Uh- they’re- they’re good, yeah,” he assures them, though shaky.

“You sure, there?” Harrison teases. “Did someone propose or something?”

“No, no,” Tom airily chuckles. “Nothing like that.” “Oh?” His dad picks up, “What, then?”

“She- uh…” he licks his lips out of habit. “She wants to move out. Find a place for us, she said.”

The tone in which Tom tells them lets them know that he’s a little less than enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. It’s something that raises a red flag for Nikki; it’s something that makes her brows furrow in confusion.

“Oh,” Sam breaks the silent. “I’m happy for you, bro,” he pats Tom’s shoulder.

Tom smiles, though it’s forced and a bit spaced out.

“What’re you gonna tell her?” Harry asks. “You want it too, right?”

Tom shrugs weakly. Nobody talks about his responses, his reactions. It’s all a bit unexpected, for Tom to not be on board with the next step of the relationship.

“I mean, I don’t know, really.” He confesses with a nervous laugh, running a hand through his curls. “I’d miss you all so much. I just… I don’t know, I guess I just thought she liked living here too, y’know.”

A collective number of “yeah’s” and “mhm’s” go around the room, and Tom nods nonchalantly before the conversation switches to something more exciting. For now, Nikki lets it go, just until she can get her eldest in a room by himself, and before you get home.

It’s when Tom’s getting snacks for the group that Nikki decides to offer her help in the kitchen. They’re just putting dinner in the oven and preparing appetizers, but still, any opportunity to talk to Tom.

“So,” Nikki smiles, and Tom giggles while she puts another slice of tomato on the dish they’re preparing. “Moving out, huh?”

Though her tone is teasing, Tom can’t help but get shivers. He nods, quieting down a bit. Nikki’s movements remain, but Tom stops working altogether. “I don’t want to move out.”

His mum turns to look at him, and she nods, almost as if anticipating the confession. “Why not?”

Tom clicks his tongue, looking down as if he’s ashamed of feeling this way. “I just like things the way they are right now. I know at some point, someone’s gonna move out and the clan’s gonna go our separate ways, but I don’t want to be the one to go first.”

At this, Nikki fully turns to talk to Tom, no longer making dinner. “Tom…” She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel, and Tom does the same. “You were the first to go, you know.”

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she sighs, “Your career was first to take off. You ran out that door so fast, we couldn’t keep up.” Tom laughs, reminiscing to himself. “You’re going to keep growing,” she says softly. “You can’t stop that. You can’t stop everyone from growing apart. Sure, you might not grow apart, but you won’t always be this cute little boy band from your school days.”

“Not a boy band, mum,” Tom grumbles. The two of them share a knowing smile.

“You can’t blame yourself for growing, darling,” she steps closer, grabbing one of his hands just like he had grabbed hers the day he was first born. “You can’t expect to be the glue that holds this- this temporary situation together forever. You’re not a superhero,” the two of them laugh again, but then Tom nods knowingly, and Nikki can see a faint batch of tears spring in his eye sockets.

“No, I know, mum.” He sniffles. “I guess… I don’t know, i’ve just always been afraid of never being there when everything changes. I always come back and everyone’s a different person, just…” he searches for the words, “with the same faces.”

She nods, turning back to her dinner dish. Tom keeps his eyes trained on his hands, which are planted on the countertop.

“She loves you a lot, you know.” Nikki says after a few beats. “She just wants a bit of privacy, a bit of your relationship without your annoying brothers.”

“Annoying is right,” Tom teases. They laugh again. “Yeah, I guess I just never thought of that.” Nikki hums, and the kitchen grows silent for a few moments. “Thank you, mum.”

“For what?”

“Being there.” Tom replies. “You never gave up on me, and now… I don’t know. It means a lot to me that you’re helping me with something so important to me.”

Nikki’s eyes soften, and both of them tear up. She nods, this time breaking the silence again. “I know how much you love her,” She says quietly. “One day, she’ll be yours for forever. She’s the one — I can see it in both of your eyes.”

Tom sucks in a breath and wipes his eyes. “I know she’s the one, too.” He adds in another tomato to the dish. “She’s always been it for me.”

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

Text

Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

=======================

TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

=======================

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

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ghoste-catte · 3 years ago

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I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years ago

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Love Me Like You Drew - chapter six (final chapter)

Fandom: Nancy Drew Pairing: Nancy x Ace Rating: E Chapter: 6 / 6 Word Count: 7417

Chapter summary: With a little advice from a trusted source, author Nancy Drew plots her next chapter.

Read: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Nancy was on her own Author Page on her publisher’s website. It bore a bio identical to the one on the back of her books. Normally, that was where they put stuff about the author’s higher education, the magazines that had printed their past work, and, basically, what their deal was. So-and-so lives in Chicago with their husband and two daughters. In Delaware with their wife. In Memphis with their sons. In L.A. with their Instagram-famous cat.

After her mom’s diagnosis and rejection by Columbia, Nancy hadn’t applied anywhere else, hadn’t gone to college. Past work? A Breath of Fresh Heir had been her debut novel, and she’d never shown the stories she’d written before that to anyone but her mom. It had never bothered her, that her bio had been seriously padded by enthusiastic language about her youth and a tsunami of praise for her talent. She didn’t particularly like offering up details about herself. Only as time went on—her second book had gone to print, her third—had she wished she could namedrop a college to add credibility to her bio, some snobby arts journal that had published a little experimental poetry or something so she could prove she could do more. Try other genres and forms, produce more work.

What really, genuinely, honestly hadn’t bothered her until now was the third thing. The partner/husband/wife/kids thing. A relationship stable enough to take to production because its status wasn’t going to change in a week. A person for whom she could announce her love on the back cover of 80,000 copies (55,000 of those pre-orders; her fans always came through). Nancy’d thought she was smart to go it alone, that it meant no one to detract from her achievement. Besides, she’d never been with anybody she’d considered a back-cover contender. Abe and Gil probably would’ve run for the hills if she’d named either of them as her boyfriend. Park and Owen probably would’ve done something truly insane, like propose, bringing her one step closer to the Chicago/husband/two daughters version of how her life could play out. In her own estimation, she wasn’t ready for marriage or kids, but, for the first time, she wasn’t afraid to start something that could end up there.

And that personal growth was working out great, Nancy sarcastically acknowledged to herself. Where was this spectacular someone, this guy who’d started out 100% front-cover material but was now the subject of back-cover contemplation? He certainly wasn’t here.

Hell, she didn’t even have the cat, famous or otherwise.

She’d made it through another night at the Breaker Hotel—this time not surviving murderous ghosts but her own confusion and hurt. When she’d checked in, she’d spotted a comment box on the front desk; she was going to leave them one suggesting they change the hotel’s name to Heartbreaker. No, of course she wouldn’t actually do that. Because that would require approaching the front desk. Which was Amanda’s domain. While Nancy had liked Amanda from the start, she definitely liked her a little less now that she’d seemed instrumental in Ace ditching her in the lobby last night. Exes, Nancy assumed. Sure would have been nice if Ace could confirm that, but he hadn’t texted, he hadn’t called. He’d said he would call.

Couldn’t Nancy call him? Technically, she was capable, and yet, she was too angry. She was angry because of the hurt and confusion that had been her only overnight guests. She didn’t give guys the opportunity to do this to her. Ace was handsome, child-friendly, and a good listener, but she’d clearly overestimated his perfection. Sounds like a you problem, some internal voice that sounded a hell of a lot like George’s quipped.

Nancy stole a fluffy bath towel from the supply in the bathroom, pitched a bottle of sunscreen into her purse, and decided to give up on what she’d come to Horseshoe Bay to do. Instead, she would do what the tourists did: spend her day on the beach. Nick had somebody putting new tires on her car today, but she hadn’t received a call to tell her the work was finished yet and she didn’t need a car to get down to the water.

There were multiple beaches to choose from. Some of them were rocky, and some of them, on her various exploits around town, had appeared to attract fewer sunbathers. Normally, Nancy would’ve gone for someplace less crowded, but she picked a popular strip of sand instead. She wanted to be near people. Not to study them for book material, jotting down points in the notebook she always had with her, but because they made her feel far from the lonely hotel room where she’d passed her morning. She unrolled her white towel on the sand, sat down in her cut-offs and bikini top, and listened to a blend of tourists and locals. A community at play.

After ten minutes under the sun, she remembered her sunscreen. After fifteen, she was wishing she had one of those books Nick had offered to let her borrow. She’d never been to the beach alone and, without a book to read, she was slightly horrified to find herself thinking of her own. Away from her laptop, Nancy traced lines in the sand as she thought about what she had so far.

Maine, summer. A reunion of old flames, or no, better, she’d decided, a classic summer fling that evolved into more. Plenty of places for a first date: the café, the beach, the lighthouse (she’d ruled out the ice cream shop because she’d made one of those Lucy and Ryan’s “spot” in His Sea Queen). The details were not eluding her; she was up to her eyeballs in words to describe the texture of a beachball and the scent of the bay. As with the night before, it was the romance that was giving Nancy trouble.

She laid back, pulled her sunglasses out of her hair and put them on, and followed her instincts. With her phone pressed to one ear and her finger jammed in the other, she could hear the line ringing over the excited yelps of people playing with a frisbee off to her left.

“Nancy! Are you alright?” her dad asked.

She felt a wash of regret that she called him so infrequently that he wondered whether this one was motivated by something being wrong.

“I’m… ok.”

“Where are you?”

“Generally, Maine. Specifically, trying not to become a casualty to three teenagers with a frisbee. I’m at the beach,” she clarified.

“That’s good.” She could hear the caution in his voice. “You used to love the beach when you were little. Mom and I could hardly get you out of the water.”

“You always wanted to build sandcastles,” Nancy remembered with a wistful smile. “I could never sit still long enough.”

“You wanted to do everything at once. Just like your mom. When you were really young, the two of you used to bounce between swimming and snacks and shell-collecting. You’d get so worn out that you’d sleep in the car the whole way home.”

“Best sleeps I ever had.”

“And then, when you were older—” She heard her dad adjust his phone and knew he’d switched it from his left ear to his right. She’d watched him do it a million times. His habits were so familiar, but she’d let the two of them grow so distant. “—we made you treasure maps, and you ran ahead exploring.”

“You took pictures, but Mom always hung back.”

“She knew you could do it on your own.”

“Yeah.” Nancy blinked quickly. Her dad was quiet for a minute and she knew how he was feeling because she was feeling it too. She let the tear slide down her temple into her hair, making no move to swipe it away. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I’m struggling.” She sniffed. “With my writing.”

“Sometimes we take it for granted when things come easy to us. We think it’ll always be that easy.”

“Tell me about it.” Nancy laughed wetly. “I have the trilogy, but I’ve been feeling so lost about what comes next for Nancy Drew. I can’t hear the characters anymore.”

At her stipulation for the level of embarrassment she could reasonably cope with, her dad had only read bits and pieces of her published work, never a novel in its entirety, but just because she hadn’t exposed him to which words she preferred to use to describe genitalia didn’t mean she thought him unqualified to give her advice. He knew her style. More than that, he was the only other person who knew the conditions under which she’d written her trilogy. He’d lived through them too.

He surprised her by saying, “I think I’ve been going through a similar thing.”

“You have?”

“Yes. Well, I think so—you can tell me if I’m totally wrong. But… I’ve been figuring out how to live my life after the death of the love of my life. How to transition from that part of my life to the next, how to be someone who doesn’t squander all the love my years with Mom equipped me to hold.”

Nancy was nodding, the back of her head rubbing across the towel.

“How to create something good again,” she supplied.

“Me with Jean, you with your next book.”

“Hypothetical next book.”

“Nancy, if you want something, I will never doubt for a second that you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“It just feels… I don’t know,” she admitted. “Not impossible, but maybe like it’s not the right time?”

“Does now have to be the right time?”

“A huge gap between the trilogy and the next thing I put out would not be ideal. Unless you’re Harper Lee following up To Kill a Mockingbird after fifty years, you’re forgotten about and you have to start all over again. Building up a readership, getting recommended as a great book club read, slowly climbing back up the bestseller lists. Odette would be out for blood. Temperance might actually draw it.”

“You’re worrying about things that haven’t happened yet,” her dad said gently.

“What else is new.”

“I don’t like you putting this pressure on yourself.” He sighed. “You were never very receptive to my concerns.”

“Because I know what I can do!”

“Exactly.” Damn his lawyering. “You know you can do this. I know you can do this. You writing another book is a question of when, not if. If you can accept that, maybe you can find the one thing you always denied yourself.”

“What’s that?” Nancy asked.

“Patience.”

She groaned. Her dad laughed.

“You never liked that word,” he reminded her.

“Well, because, what am I supposed to do with myself if I’m not writing?!”

“You could read To Kill a Mockingbird again.”

“It didn’t influence me into a legal career last time,” Nancy pointed out. “Nice try though.”

“You were only eleven, but you saw right through me.”

“So did Mom.”

“She did,” he said.

She could hear in her dad’s voice that being seen through wasn’t as bad as she feared.

—

Nancy hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the sun. It was early afternoon when she dragged herself from her bath-towel altar of solar devotion. She’d dozed the morning away—the human sounds of people struggling to erect their beach umbrellas and wrangle their kids fading the way they couldn’t anyplace else.

Still sun-muzzy, Nancy was thinking about her dad’s uncomplicated wisdom, how he allowed love to steer him. She’d never really known that about him. She could see that her mom continued to be with him, and that it simply wouldn’t have been possible for him to set her aside to pursue his relationship with Jean; Nancy’s parents had been so connected that they’d become a permanent part of each other. She found it a little vertigo-inducing that someone could follow their better instincts again and again and again until they woke up one day and a chance meeting had turned into plotting out treasure maps together at dawn before their daughter woke up for the first beach day of summer.

Her better instincts wanted her to call Ace. What else was she going to do? Drive all the way back to New York and never see him again? Never feel that thing she felt when she recognized him across a room or a garage or a makeshift archery range? Where he was concerned, she meekly acknowledged to herself that she’d been kinda stupid. She’d imagined him a certain way, at first, as an excuse to avoid him and then as motivation to give in. That had fucked it up from the start. Nancy didn’t want to do that again.

She could’ve called and asked him to meet her at the beach—her Ace Hardy Harlequin cover collection was missing a Baywatch-style wet hair flip as he walked out of the bay in slow-motion, somehow backlit even though the sun was overhead. Aware of that, Nancy texted George. At first, George responded with a rebuke about how requesting a person’s work schedule was absolutely not cool and so, so creepy. And then she confirmed that, yeah, Ace was working the lunch shift, and Nancy’d better not try to kidnap him or else their friendship was super terminated, and no more free chowder besides. That text made Nancy roll her eyes. George had never given her free chowder.

Nancy turned up at the Claw minorly sunburnt and smelling like a beachy blend of sweat and coconutty sunscreen. Her hair was in a lumpy ponytail. There was sand between her toes. The bell rang when she pushed through the door, and it was maybe the nicest sound in the world, if anyone was keeping track.

In spite of the diner’s many windows, she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the indoors. It felt like she hadn’t been here in ages. For the second time since arriving in Horseshoe Bay, her instincts had told her to find food. Knowing the drill at this establishment, she seated herself. She could see George watching her from the kitchen transom and Nancy made sure to hold up her purse and sloppily-rolled, thieved bath towel; no kidnapping paraphernalia here.

Bess’s eyes were full of questions, so probing that Nancy wondered if her friend was actively attempting to read her mind, but she didn’t ask any of them. Could be down to lingering respect for Nancy’s privacy as an extremely low-tier famous person (like, the basement—Nancy was in the basement), or Ace, as Bess’s platanchor, asking her not to pry. Yeah, it was probably the second thing.

Nancy finally got her hands on the sandwich she’d been eyeing on her first visit and it was delicious, but she was almost too distracted to eat. Did Ace know she was here? If not, could he feel it? While she was picking at her fries, a mechanic from Nick’s garage called to tell her that her car was ready and as soon as she hung up she had no memory of what she’d said.

It was surreal when, shift finished, he came out of the kitchen and walked over to her booth. The way he held his mouth indicated nerves.

“Bess said you were here,” Ace told her, eyes flashing to and away from Nancy’s as he sat down opposite her.

“Was she as manic about it as the look in her eye while she took my order suggested?” she asked calmly. In her lap, her hands gripped each other like two survivors of a sinking ship.

“Pretty much. Luckily, George had already told me. Apparently, she wanted me to be prepared in case you tried to kidnap me.”

“Just a conversation. Hope you’re not disappointed,” Nancy joked.

Ace met her eye. His expression was a combination of earnest and regretful. If he was about to let her down easy after their hookup, she’d have to accept that. She’d have questions—she always had questions—but she wouldn’t be able to make him answer.

People had one-night stands every day (night)! People had vacation flings and they probably didn’t mean anything a lot of the time! That was the entire premise of Adam Sandler’s character in 50 First Dates, and if Nancy hadn’t correctly identified Ace’s role as the love-em-and-leave-em local, then maybe she’d also missed the memo that she was basically every woman in that movie except for Drew Barrymore. She’d never classed herself with the tourists, but she should have. She couldn’t pretend this was her town just because she wanted to replicate it in one of her books. She couldn’t force Ace into the role of Love Interest just because he looked the part.

“I feel really awful for how I acted last night,” he said.

Nancy ignored her urge to wave his apology aside and keep the conversation superficial.

“I knew that’s where you were staying,” Ace went on, “and I’m not keeping tabs on Amanda, but I assumed she still worked there, so I should’ve been ok with—”

“You’re not over her,” Nancy said gently. “It happens.”

“That’s not it though, Nancy. It’s not. I’m not… pining for her. She hurt me.” He sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat.

“What happened?” she asked, and she actually wanted to know.

Ace sighed again, mouth twitching before he spoke.

“We got into a relationship really fast. We just clicked, and it wasn’t just me who felt it—her too. You know what that’s like?”

Nancy nodded. Instant, irresistible chemistry? Yes, she was familiar. Abundantly.

“Everything was going so right,” he continued, “and it felt really good to be on the same page with somebody. We took trips together, dropped in on each other at work. I met her dad, even though he was kinda shady, and her brother when he drove up for the weekend one time. Kind of a dick, but he fucked off back to New York, so who cares? I mean, I liked everything about her. I think I was falling in love.”

This was where their experiences diverged, Nancy thought. But she kept looking at him, not with judgement or sarcasm, and let him lay his emotions bare.

“It never occurred to me that, for her, I was falling short. All the time, I thought it was great that we both had jobs we didn’t hate, both had friends, both had pretty established lives here in Horseshoe Bay.”

“How could you fall short?” Nancy asked kindly. She couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t have before, when she’d seen him as some model of romantic perfection, and she still couldn’t now that she was better understanding him as a real person.

“Amanda wanted me to be more ambitious, share her plan to only stay here a little while longer and then move away to live somewhere else. Better, she said. And, ok—” Ace shrugged. “—it’s great that she has goals and no way that’s an unreasonable one. She’s allowed to expect that of me, that I’m a grown adult and I should want those things too, but I’ve always known where I wanna be.”

Nancy gazed at him.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” she said. “I actually think that’s a really tough thing to figure out about yourself. Running away from your past doesn’t make you grown-up.” She thought of everything she’d done to avoid dealing with her mom’s death. “Sometimes it’s just a shitty coping mechanism.”

“So you don’t find my life… underwhelming?” He gave her a self-deprecating smile and she frowned, shaking her head.

“What I’ve observed about your life is that…” Nancy ticked the list off on her fingers. “…you have really good friends who are invested in your happiness. You’re maybe a little too obsessed with your car—”

“No idea where that’s coming from.”

Nancy smirked in amusement.

“You’re generous with your time and your involvement in your community,” she went on, “which, by the way, seems like a really great community. I’m jealous of your hometown.”

“Because you wish you lived here, or because it has me?”

“There he is,” she said, slapping the table and pointing a teasingly accusing finger at Ace. “There’s the guy who tried to pick me up over a phone call.”

He smiled, then said, softer, “Seeing Amanda just surprised me. I’m sorry that I bailed, and that I didn’t call.”

“Sometimes a person’s gotta bail.” Nancy smiled back at him. “And if there’s anything I’ve learned since coming here, it’s that I might not avoid people so much if I always had the option to talk to them face-to-face instead. I swear, my life was turning into one big email chain.”

Ace gave her a strange look.

“We do have internet here. I’m almost as attached to my laptop as I am to Florence, so if you’re about to have some kind of Luddite-worship moment, I would not be down with it.”

“Not at all. I live for the murder hotel’s powerful wi-fi signal. I just… like that I can be here, talking to you.”

Under the table, she bumped her foot lightly into his.

“I like that you came to see me.” Ace smiled and tapped his nose. “You’re lookin’ a little pink.”

“Shit. I always forget to do my nose.”

“If you hit the beach again before you leave, I can get that for you.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said. Then, because she could tell he was wondering. “I’ve actually recently decided that I might not.”

“Not go back to the beach?”

“…Leave.”

His lips parted, but he still seemed unsure. Nancy put her hands on the table and flipped them palm-up.

“I like it here,” she said simply.

“It feels like the stakes might be really high right now, but we should probably have sex again, right?”

“Oh, we definitely should,” Nancy confirmed.

“I have a loft downtown,” Ace floated.

“I’m picking my car up from the garage, but wait for me. I’ll follow you there.”

—

His loft was really nice, in the fleeting assessment she was able to give it before Ace lifted her off her feet, hand on the seat of her jean shorts as she quickly wrapped her legs around his hips. Nancy tugged irrationally at his t-shirt, shunning the part of her brain that said she couldn’t take it off him while his arms were holding her up. She wanted skin. That was what had been missing when they’d fucked under the pier—skin and enough light to see Ace’s body by, and she got those things now. Apparently, he didn’t close his curtains during the day. Ah well, it wasn’t the first storey and the building across the street was a squat little hair salon. Unless he wanted to take her from behind while pressing her against the window, they’d have plenty of privacy.

Ace’s fingers slipped up the leg of her shorts, trailing across her ass. He lumbered through the open-concept space while she made it difficult for him to navigate; hands in his hair, Nancy pulled his head back and tortured him with a slow kiss that had him groaning into her mouth. The first time he set her down for a respite of handsy making out, it was on the stove (off). The second time, on a low half-wall that partitioned his bedroom from the rest of the loft.

Widening her legs, Nancy wriggled against him. She could feel how hard he was and she couldn’t resist. They yanked each other’s shirts off like they were snatching laundry from a clothesline as a rainstorm rolled in. With all the motion, and the narrowness of the dividing wall, she rocked too far forward and lost her seat, torso colliding with Ace’s. His instinct was to hold her flush against him, arm around her waist. She looked him in the eye. She felt him start to play with the strings of her bikini top and watched him swallow.

Nancy smiled slowly.

“Do it,” she dared him.

He jerked the lower string loose and the top hung against her. He jerked the halter tie behind her neck and her bikini top fell to his smooth wood floor.

“Better with light, right?” she prompted.

Ace’s gaze was slow to rise from her breasts. Her nipples puckered. She wanted his hands on her.

“There are certain benefits,” he acknowledged.

And then he did put his hands on her, and then his mouth, her fingers woven tightly through the hair at the back of his head as he bowed to reach. He plucked at her with his lips and she skimmed the nails of her other hand down his abdomen, feeling him lean into the bite. When he used his teeth, she grabbed the waist of his jeans. The button pressed into her palm.

“We have a bed,” Ace huffed. “That’s an option now.”

“It is.”

Roughly, she tore open his fly and began to stroke him through his boxers. He straightened up, gripping the top of the wall and bracing himself, hemming her in. Nancy lifted her chin as she both caused and witnessed Ace’s unravelling.

“We can’t have sex against this wall,” he said, pled. “You’ll slide off again.”

That was probably true. But Nancy was a problem solver.

“Trade places with me,” she said.

He did and she shoved his hips to the wall, startling him. Her body reacted with a jolt of heat when she saw Ace’s blush. Crowding so close that her nipples grazed his chest, she tilted her face up, not quite touching her lips to his. He descended on her hungrily. As he kissed her, his hands closed over hers, guiding her to push his jeans and boxers down. When she pulled messily out of the kiss, she made sure to leave a winding path of more kisses down his body, sinking carefully to her knees. Hard floors.

Ace—flushed, fingers wrapping around his erection—looked down at her. His free hand grabbed the wall again. Nancy took his gaze and held it steady. When he slowly pumped his hand down towards the base of his cock, it seemed like an unmistakable suggestion for where she could put her mouth. Of course, that had been her plan, but it was important to get an invitation.

Her hands gripped the front of his bare thighs as she licked around the head of his cock. The fair hair on his legs darkened nearer to his groin. At Nancy’s eye level, Ace was a deeper blond, considerately trimmed and the answer to the mystery she’d been hung up on—even while she passed a shitty night trying not to dwell on this man—about what every part of him looked like in the light of day. She’d had a lot of sex in the dark, or purposely avoided letting anything happen above the covers, and it was almost always to stop her partner from seeing the look on her face, the disconnect in her eyes as she used sex as a solo escape from the sorrow she kept private. The way Ace was rolling with afternoon, full-sunlight oral reassured her. She slid her tongue over him and opened her mouth, taking him in and relishing every grunt, every twitch of his hips. He kept himself from thrusting across her tongue, but his hand betrayed him, pumping in an erratic rhythm. Sometimes, his fist bumped her lips when she was going down and he was jerking up.

Nancy had moved one hand all the way up Ace’s inner thigh and was toying with the idea of tantalizingly massaging his balls until he lost control, but he was calling her name in a wrecked voice. She got to her feet, letting his cock brush her chest as she stood. His eyes went to the wet mark on her skin, the shine transferred from where she’d been sucking him. He rubbed it in with his thumb.

“I think I’m ready for that bed now,” she murmured.

He stepped out of his clothes and walked her backwards, hand in the back pocket of her shorts. Though Nancy hadn’t taken a dip in the bay while she was at the beach, her bikini bottoms were definitely wet.

At the foot of his bed, Ace stopped her, gaze on his hands as he undid her shorts. Her fingers skipped up his arms. After the noise of her zipper, his loft was so quiet that she jumped at the sound of her own voice asking him to put music on. His curated AC/DC playlist wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but hey, she’d never had sex to “Come and Get It” or “Let’s Make It” before.

Ace sat down on the end of his bed. He didn’t seem to understand why she was laughing, but he grinned good-naturedly and carried on kissing her when she kneeled on his mattress, straddling his lap. His hand slipped into her bikini bottoms and she urged him flat onto his back. Holding her body parallel over his, Nancy swayed against his rubbing fingers. Last time—the only other time—she’d hurried him through foreplay, and she knew that had been her loss. This time, she groaned and sighed so he’d know it felt good, bowing her back to press herself into his hand. It was a little bit of a performance, but she was flaunting, not faking, the pleasure he gave her. Ace breathed heavily beneath her. She ran a hand up his arm and felt him shudder.

“Take these off for me?” He snapped the elastic edge of her bottoms against her hip.

“Or you could.”

Just like that, Ace flipped her onto her back. Nancy laughed and wriggled backwards up the bed, but her laugh faded to an admiring sigh as he crawled after her, arms and shoulders flexing every time he planted one of his hands on the mattress. She lifted her bum as he stripped her. Her gaze dropped to see his cock twitch and she parted her thighs in expectation. But it was his face, not his hips, that he lowered between her legs.

In no time, she was gasping, writhing against his mouth, shamelessly fisting his hair. His thumb made dragging passes at her clit like he was flipping through a magazine and his tongue plunged wetly inside her. She’d thought his fingers were her favourite. Now she wasn’t sure. And the sight of Ace in a soaked t-shirt seriously had nothing on Ace with a face glossed by her arousal. He licked from her entrance to her clit (Nancy’s eyes rolled back for a second) and she wiped the wetness from his upper lip. He winked at her and kept going until the only place she could feel her pulse was in her clit, and that was throbbing like a Looney-Tunes heart beating cartoonishly out of a chest.

“You want it?” he asked, lips skimming her unbearably.

Nancy’s fingers tightened in his hair.

“I need you,” she begged.

Those three words had as much persuasive power now as they’d had under the pier. Ace flattened his tongue to her clit and rolled it up and down, never lifting off, his head moving like he was nodding. She was nodding too, frantically, almost crying, and clutching him against her even as she rode his face. Her orgasm felt like a crack of thunder, followed by a shiver of electricity zinging down to her toes. Nancy realized she was still gripping Ace’s hair, so she relaxed her fingers, but he didn’t let up. Soon, she didn’t want him to. She moved her hand to the back of his neck. Grinding herself against his mouth required more precision than she had at her disposal at the moment; while she mostly stayed on his tongue, she also felt the blunt edge of his teeth, the light scruff of his upper lip. Encountering that texture, her body seized a second time, and this time, Ace had the grace to let her float all the way down from another lightning-storm climax back into the body of a very fortunate woman sprawled on his freshly-made bed.

“Sweet Jesus,” she muttered, staring at the ceiling.

Ace drummed his fingers along her inner thigh, evidently content.

“Do you think you’ll want to—”

Buzzing with sensation as she was, Nancy nodded firmly, raising her head enough to hold his eye.

“God, yes. More. Please.”

“What do you do again? Write books?” he teased.

She ignored the dig at her temporarily sparse vocabulary.

“I’m thinking I’m going to have to give that up so I can do this full-time.”

“Get eaten out? I gotta work sometimes, you know.” He smiled.

“Take a vacation. A staycation. It’ll take time to fuck against every flat surface in this loft, but I’m willing to put in the work if you are.”

“I remember when I couldn’t even get you to call me.”

A laugh burst from Nancy’s lips.

“Let’s put it down to the power of AC/DC,” Ace concluded.

“Let’s absolutely not do that.”

“You’re into it.” He kissed her thigh.

She sighed happily and reached for him as he scattered more kisses up her body. She felt pleasantly leaden, cradled by the foam of his mattress. There were still occasional sparks of pleasure from between her thighs, though his hands didn’t go near her clit again, gliding safely up her sides. Nancy had never experienced such gentle foreplay. All the thrill was in the simple contact of his skin on hers, his lips in spots like the back of her hand, the warm crease of her elbow, the hollow of her collarbone. With anybody else, it probably wouldn’t have worked for her, but she was so relaxed, so unbothered by the world and free of her own exhausting expectations. By the time Ace was nosing up her jaw and placing kisses behind her ear, she was panting into his.

She grasped his naked hip and moaned, “Please.”

Ace raised his head to look at her. When he did that—so close, eyes so blue and serene—she thought, Oh boy. It was dizzying. She’d seen people give each other that look before, and it hadn’t been during her book signings or at her publishing house or in Owen Marvin’s upscale apartment—it’d been at home. Across a certain dining room table. Nancy had had this feeling about Ace, that they might have Kate-and-Carson potential, but she’d ignored that premonition even better than she’d ignored his Harlequin-esque axe-wielding and oil-changing, and now it was knocking her feet out from under her anyway.

Eyelids not fully lowering, she leaned up and kissed him. His mouth moved very naturally with hers, and that was because he was a good kisser, but it was also because their techniques were compatible. Like their flirting style, and their sense of humour, and their sheepish tendency to run away when they were alarmed or overwhelmed. Nancy licked Ace’s lip and his tongue came out to meet hers. The kiss deepened and her eyes shut completely. Like sitting down in that booth at the Claw, there was a rightness to this, to them, that she couldn’t explain. Score one for the universe, she thought. Somewhere, Bess was probably smiling.

Ace pulled away and nuzzled into Nancy’s hair.

“Stay,” he whispered.

“No,” she said instinctively, eyes still closed, but she didn’t move an inch while she heard him opening a drawer, readying himself with a condom.

He rolled her slack body onto her stomach and slipped a hand under her abdomen, raising her hips. A soft groan left her lips at the nearness of his fingers to her clit and she clenched automatically before he was even inside her. Nancy folded her arms to rest her cheek on them. He kissed that cheek as he positioned himself at her entrance. With an easy pitching motion, he sunk into her, then out, until he was deep and she was freeing one of her hands so he would hold it.

Fingers closing around hers, Ace began an unhurried pace with his hips. At first, he was hovering over her, but as the pleasure built between them, Nancy felt the heat of him just above her back. Inside, she clutched at his cock.

“You’re so tight,” he gasped.

She couldn’t help her short, breathy laugh.

“There’s a line I’ve read a thousand times.”

His answering laugh ruffled her hair.

“I’m so unoriginal. Like some recycled guy out of a book.”

“Not at all,” Nancy told him. Trust me, I’ve put some thought into this. “Besides, some lines stay sexy no matter how many times they’re used.” Her lashes fluttered down as he changed his angle. “For example, fuck, you feel good inside me.”

She felt his cock pulse in response.

“Maybe dirty talk in general just ages well.”

“Maybe I just like to hear myself talk.”

“Mmm,” Ace said, kissing her neck. “I like it too.”

So she let every little thought spill out, every dirty bit of praise, and he brushed kisses across the top of her spine. Eventually, her comments became so obscene that it gave her an extra kick just to say them—and that was definitely the influence of AC/DC. They were driving Ace absolutely wild; he wrapped his arm beneath her, kneading her breast, hips bucking so forcefully that when she tried out the classic erotica request for him to fuck her into the mattress, it was redundant. He already was.

He came hard, hugging Nancy from behind, getting her off just after with his tugs at her nipple and the way he groaned her name. For a minute, she lay in his arms, sunburnt and satisfied, and then the world picked up where it had left off spinning. He put his boxers back on and got rid of the condom. She stole his t-shirt (smelled a little like the sweet, comforting scent of fried food; he had been wearing it at work) and went to pee.

They returned to the bed and lounged on each other like they were just hanging out. AC/DC finally wore out their welcome. Ace asked how her car was running and she asked after his brother. It wasn’t hard to talk to him like this—in fact, it was so much easier than all the times she’d looked for ways to get out of conversations, avoided sharing personal information. Nancy had perfected a certain professional smile to prove she was happy. With Ace, she never had to reach for that smile once.

“So,” he asked, running his lips across her cheek, “any ideas for your book?”

She laughed.

“You mean, will what we just did show up in the kind of chapter my readers tend to dogear?”

“Well, presumably some of them use e-readers, but yeah.”

Nancy swept her gaze over his face, smiling.

“No,” she said. “This story’s just for us.”

—

1 month later

Nancy organized her notes before she left for work. There was only so much her notebooks could contain, and scraps and doodles had overflowed the bindings. The corkboard her dad had helped her attach to the wall above the desk looked like some kind of crazy murder/conspiracy board—if the conspiracy was that a once-famous romance writer had decamped from New York to begin her long-awaited new project in a coastal town in Maine. In the publishing world, rumours were already swirling. Bess was a dab hand at social media marketing, and Nancy was relieved to pay her for her subtle hints across various Official Nancy Drew accounts rather than make Odette mad by just posting her whole first chapter online.

Not much of the book was finished, but it was underway. She’d taken to heart her dad’s point about now not always needing to be the right time; after that phone call, Nancy hadn’t pushed herself to write. Nearly three weeks had gone by before she’d suddenly been struck by the urge to run to her laptop and get down a hundred thoughts at once. It had meant flaking on her shift at the Claw, but she’d been so busy writing that she hadn’t even noticed the time. Ace had called later to unconcernedly inform her that George was pissed (but would get over it) before asking if she would read him something from her new pages.

He loved his loft, and she loved his loft, but lately, they spent more nights here. Otherwise, Nancy would’ve felt bad about the percentage of her book advance she’d set aside to pay rent on an entire house where only she lived. When it had become available, it’d felt too serendipitous to pass up. It was the blue house, the cute one she’d first seen during Bess’s tour and had gone out of her way to drive and walk past many times since. She planned to buy it—she just needed to be slightly more heedful of her waitressing schedule so she’d actually have a steady income.

It was funny, she thought in the car, that settling farther away from her dad would mean seeing him more. Their visits had become a regular thing. He’d helped her move out of her apartment in the city and into her new place, being very vocal about how proud he was of her and how much her mom would’ve loved the house she’d picked. Jean had come too and Nancy had been unexpectedly touched when her dad’s girlfriend had hugged her in response to the open invitation to stay in her guest room. Things just meant more in person, she guessed. They’d be dropping in again next month, spending the night on the way to a cabin Jean’s sister owned up the coast. Nancy was thinking of surprising them with her best stab at her dad’s famous pasta primavera.

She parked in the mostly-empty lot near Nick’s truck. It was September now and the tourists had scattered in advance of the falling leaves, though they hadn’t even begun to yellow yet. Her dad had playfully warned her that she’d miss the New York City autumn, but she was looking forward to seeing what the season looked like up here. Pinning on her nametag, Nancy got out of her car and headed for the Claw. She still loved the sound of the bell ringing above her head when she went inside.

There was Bess, looking like she’d stopped setting out placemats when she’d reached the booths under the front windows and her engagement ring had caught the light. Nancy snorted as she watched her friend twist her hand, making the diamond sparkle. She knew Lisbeth had really wowed Bess with that ring. All those extra hours at the station had paid off; Bess said the words “Chief Lisbeth” almost as often as she said “fiancée.” The Horseshoe Bay equivalent of celebrity namedropping.

Nick and George were standing together at the counter. He was drinking from a takeaway coffee cup that she’d probably just brought him, likely stopping in before going to the youth centre. George was in such a good mood that she let slide the fact that Nancy had been late yesterday due to another burst of writing. The leniency might’ve had something to do with Nancy emailing her possible plot points last night so George could weigh in. She was invested in this new book now, and when she wasn’t bugging Nancy to clean tables, she was bugging her to hurry up and write the next chapter. The other day, a customer had overheard them talking about the book and made a derogatory remark about people who wrote “that shit.” George had snatched back the plate of fried clams she’d set in front of them a minute earlier and, while Nancy laughed in disbelief, told them they could come back to the Claw once they’d learned how to behave in public.

Nancy pushed into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. He had his back to her, talking to Grant. Every day, he greeted her differently. Look at what the tide washed up. Excuse me, miss, you can’t be back here. If she walked in with Bess, his old flirtatious Hey, Bess, who’s your friend?

Her heart beat faster when the squeak of her sneakers made him turn his head. She wondered what Ace would say today.

#my writing #Love Me Like You Drew #Nancy Drew #Ace [redacted]#Carson Drew #Nace #Nace fanfiction #Nancy Drew fanfiction #Nancy Drew fic

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Note

Could you write a headcanon (or something like that)... Corpse x NB reader?

I've been trying they/them pronouns and she/they pronouns and I want to read something like a non binary reader who is coming out as non binary and corpse, as a good 'boyfriend' supports and give love...

I can't talk to family and friends about it so I'm trying to find myself and find representation in other places... Idk hope you have a good week :)

Sure thing, darling! I'm so happy you are looking into what makes you happy and what pronouns you feel the most comfortable with! I hope you find someone you can talk to about this subject IRL, but I'm always here for you online! Sending a ton of love, support and appreciation and affection your way 💌😘

Here you go some headcanons! 😊

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (Non-binary)

Warnings: None, just pure comfort fluff

Enjoy! ~ 💕

- You had been wondering what pronouns best suited you ever since you came across the concept

- You've been using certain pronouns all your life and never really felt fully comfortable with them

- They didn't bother you or anything, they were just never right and always felt out of place

- Experimenting with they/them pronouns has been the most true to yourself you've felt

- But along with that realization came the fear of how the people around you would react

- There wasn't a single doubt in your mind that your friends and boyfriend would support you but there was still this one annoying little fragment of doubt haunting you

- Your mind was flooded with 'what if's but never enough to cloud or shadow your happiness which came as a result of finally truly finding yourself

- The first person you wanted to come out to was the person who’s been your biggest support since you two met: your boyfriend Corpse

- Never had you been so sweaty and shaky on the drive to his apartment

- Once again, you knew he’d be nothing but supportive and loving but we humans just have a way of always discouraging ourselves

- Needless to say, you had him quite scared and confused when you showed up at his doorstep a trembling mess with a panicked fake smile plastered on your face

- Alarms started going off in his head immediately, bombarding you with tons and tons of questions on why you looked so worrisome

- “I-I need to tell you something...something really important”

- Well that had the complete opposite effect of what you had hoped

- It made him twice as nervous as his mind started racing with all the possibilities, scenarios and conversation patterns that could go down right then and there as you two sat down in the living room

- Despite his own panic, he gave you all the time you needed to collect and prepare yourself to start off with what you wanted to say

- “So, um, I....I’ve been struggling to find myself lately....I’ve been looking for what really suits me and...and I think I’ve finally found it. I-I mean I’m not completely sure but.....”

- “Hey, hey, slow down. I’m right here, it’s all ok, take your time. It’s just you and me and we’ve got all the time in the world. Don’t rush yourself.“ He took your hands in his, “Go on when you feel ready.“

- You felt genuinely touched by his words and his patience

- You knew that he’s willing to give you anything you want or need just to keep you happy

- And that’s what led you to stop beating around the bush

- “Corpse...I’m non-binary. I now use they and them pronouns. But don’t let that ch-”

- You weren’t given a chance to finish

- Within the blink of an eye, his hands had let go of yours and his arms had wrapped around you, enveloping you in a tight loving embrace

- “I’m happy you’ve found yourself, Y/N. I’m so glad you are becoming more comfortable with yourself.”

- Hearing that brought you to the verge of tears

- Biting your lip you tightened your own hold on him

- “Thank you for being the best boyfriend ever”

- “No...” he pulled away slightly so he’d be able to look you in the eyes, “Thank you for being the best partner ever, Y/N.”

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rafecameron · 4 years ago

Text

dance with me

summary: luke decides to step in and stop y/n’s friends from teasing her about never having a boyfriend. this leads to fake dates and real feelings.

pairing: luke patterson x reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fake dating, alcohol mentions

a/n: my second luke fic which took me way too long to finish because motivation deserted me. Gif is mine :)

It wasn’t a new feeling to feel somewhat left out and like a spare part. Y/N was more than used to her friends chatting away beside her like she wasn’t even in the room. She was sure it should have bothered her more than it did. Countless times people had asked why she put up with it, and the answer was always simple. Because they were her friends, at least one of them was. Yes the other two weren’t the greatest friends, she could at least admit to that. But she had known Jessica her whole life and now they were kind of part of the package, it was easier to be with them. And if she was being honest with herself she liked to sit on the outskirts, only listening in and never participating.

She wasn’t much of a talker. She enjoyed people watching and listening to her friends gossip, she could think of nothing worse than having attention on herself. Plus, if her friends were ignoring her it meant they weren’t pestering her about her love life. And that was something Y/N was more than thankful for. It started out harmless when they were younger. She was the last of her friends to hold a boy's hand. The last one to share a kiss. The last one to have a boyfriend (of course, because she still hadn’t). They had teased her about it.

“Oh, Y/N, why do you never go out? Why do you never have fun?”

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?”

“Please let us try and hook you up!”

But the meaningful pestering had slowly turned to more hurtful taunts.

“You’re so boring Y/N, you really need to lighten up!”

“You’ll never find a boyfriend if you don’t live a little!”

“Are you sure you want to come to the party? Everyone has a date, you’ll be alone like usual.”

She tried not to let it bother her. Rolling her eyes and shaking off her friends comments. She convinced herself she was fine on her own. She didn’t want a boyfriend and she certainly didn’t need one. She had considered finding one just to shut them up, but she couldn’t imagine dating someone just for the sake of it. She was old fashioned. She believed you should love wholeheartedly with everything in you. You should love truly and fiercely and definitely not give yourself away just to be included.

Y/N had seen her friends jump from one boy to the next, some not lasting more than a week. She didn’t want that. She would rather be seen as boring than throw herself at boys just for attention. She knew she had nothing in common with her friends and she also knew people wondered why they even hung out with her. But her friends were popular. And it was easier to be in the popular crowd and ignored than it was to be in the shadows and picked on.

It was near the end of lunch time when her friends finally noticed her again. Jessica was leaning against her locker, eyes locked on her compact mirror as she applied another layer of pink lipstick.

“You haven’t forgotten about my party this weekend, have you Y/N?” She asks before pursing her lips at her reflection.

Jessica was the girl Y/N had known the longest. She could stand Jessica. When they weren’t around everyone else she was back to being the girl she’d met when they were seven. Giddy and excitable, not caring what she looked like. But in public she put on the image of the perfect princess, and she definitely played it well.

“It’s your birthday Jessica, how could I forget?” She rolls her eyes with a smile gracing her lips.

Jessica snaps her mirror shut and forms her pink lips into a dazzling smile, “So you’ll be there?”

“Of course I’ll be there.” She agrees with a nod, she would call Jessica her best friend, she wouldn’t miss her birthday party for anything.

“Are you bringing someone?” Jasmine asks, her perfectly trimmed brow quirking up with her question, “We wouldn’t want you standing on your own in the corner like last time.” She smiles, tight lipped and fake as she waits for a reply.

She opens her mouth slightly, considering for a moment if it was a good idea to lie and say she was bringing someone, just to wipe the smug look from Jasmine's face. But before she can decide if that is a good idea or a train wreck waiting to happen a voice speaks up.

“Of course not,” Amber giggles, “Have you ever had a date before, Y/N?” Amber tilts her head, a smile just as fake as jasmines setting on her lips.

“No, but that’s okay,I don’t revolve my self worth around boys' attention.” She returns Amber's smile.

“That’s good! Because you don’t get any!” Amber retorts back with a laugh.

“Amber-“ Jessica begins to scold her friend but is cut off before she can begin.

“Hey, Y/N.” A voice from behind her catches everyone’s attention.

Jessica raises a brow at the boy behind her friend as she turns to see who exactly was greeting her.

“Oh, hi, Luke.” Y/N replies, her hand coming up in a small wave, she cringes at her own awkwardness.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight,” the boy smiles at her and she can’t help but forrow her brows.

She knows Luke from a couple of her classes but she can’t say she’s ever said more than a few words to the boy. Her memory wasn’t amazing but she was pretty sure she hadn’t made any sort of plans with the boy, he was practically a stranger after all.

“Uh, I-“ she begins to tell him that she has no clue what he’s talking about but he cuts her off again as if he knows what she will say.

“I know I said I wasn’t sure what we should do, but I was thinking we could catch a movie?” Luke raises both of his brows at the girl in front of her, willing her to just go along with it.

And if Y/N has learnt anything from her many years people watching she knows how to read signs, something finally clicking in her head as she quickly nods.

“Right!” She smiles, “Yes, a movie that sounds great! Is seven still good?”

Luke nods, a grin appearing on his face, “Seven, yeah, see you then.” He sends her a last nod before burying his hands into his pockets and turning away, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Y/N turns back to her friends feeling extremely confused but determined not to show it. Amber and Jasmine look somewhat annoyed but Jessica is practically bursting with excitement.

“Y/N!” She squeals and grabs her shoulders, “Why didn’t you say you had a date with that cute boy?” She shakes her friend for an answer.

The girl laughs, prying her friends hands from her shoulders, “I guess it slipped my mind.” She offers with a shrug.

“Slipped your mind?” Jessica she is sure is about to reprimand her but her scolding is cut off by the ringing off the bell, “I want all the details!” She finishes instead.

She sends her friend one last grin before grabbing onto Amber and Jasmine and pulling them down the hall while Y/N turns the opposite way and heads to literature. She couldn’t honestly say why Luke had come over to them but she was glad he had. The looks on her friends' faces when they thought she had a date was the best thing to happen to her in a long time.

She took her seat in the classroom, the room already almost full of students. The seat next to her was taken up by the boy who had stood in front of her just moments before.

“Hey,” she greets as she opens up her notebook, “What was all that about?” She asks.

Luke looks over to her, his desk empty of anything except a blunt pencil which he was rolling around with a finger. He shrugs, smiling as he meets her eyes.

“I guess I got sick of your friends always making fun of you for not having a boyfriend.” He replies like it’s nothing.

“Wait, you know about that?” She asks, a soft laugh leaving her lips, “I never realised people noticed.”

Luke nods, “I notice a lot of things. It’s not right, friends shouldn’t put each other down. I hate seeing it, so I thought I’d wipe the smirks off their faces. Thanks for going along with it.”

She offers him a genuine smile, “I nearly didn’t, I was so confused!” She admits causing him to laugh, “But thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply but the late bell sounds and the teacher shuts the door bringing the class to silence. So instead he sends her one last smile before averting his eyes out of the window, his finger still pushing the pencil he’d stolen from Reggie around his desk.

The hour dragged by slowly. She didn’t mind this class most of the time but she couldn’t get her mind to focus on the poem they were supposed to be dissecting. If there was one thing she could never grasp it was poetry. She found it beautiful and clever, but she couldn’t tell you what most of it meant. So when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the lesson she let out a sigh of relief and snapped her notebook closed.

“Not like poetry?” Luke asks with a laugh at her slightly dishevelled look after running her hands through her hair.

“If my life depended on understanding poetry I’d have been dead a long time ago.” She admits, and then frowns at the awkwardness of being death up in a conversation.

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t then.” Luke grins as he follows her out of the glass room.

The pair don’t get two steps away from the door before they are bombarded by a blonde in a pink dress.

“Why haven’t you replied to my text?” Jessica stresses, reaching out and grabbing Luke by the shirt as he tries to slip past her, “Are you bringing your new date to my party?” She deposits Luke back by Y/N’s side and looks at the pair expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, well I hadn’t actually brought it up yet.” She offers with a shrug.

“Well then you’re lucky I brought it up for you!” Jessica grins, “It’s on Saturday at nine, my house. I’ll see you there!” She waves to Luke before disappearing in the crowd of people.

Luke and Y/N share a look, one full of confusion, hopefulness and a tinge of awkwardness.

“Guess I’m your date to a party?” Luke asks with a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “No! No please don’t feel the need, I’ll just make something up.”

“So you don’t want me to go?” Luke asks holding a hand up to his heart, “I’m slightly offended.”

“I mean…” she bites her lower lip, looking around the hallway desperate for an escape which never came, “I just meant, it’s not necessary.”

Luke laughs, “I’m only messing with you,” he reaches out and taps her arm lightly, “But uh, i'll go, if you want. I kind of want to mess with your friends a little more.” He admits.

She raises a brow and laughs a little, “Like, fake date?” She asks, laughing again when Luke nods. She knows she should say no, roll her eyes and push him away, but the memory of Amber and Jasmines faces from earlier flashed back into her mind. This opportunity was too good to pass up on, it’s not like she was throwing herself at boys like she promised herself she wouldn’t, it’s all fake. And what’s the harm in fake dating a cute boy?

“Okay,” she nods, “Fake boyfriend, i'll see you there.”

------

The more she thought about it the more she was convinced she was crazy. Fake dating someone was one thing, but fake dating someone she’d never even held a conversation with? That was off the spectrum of crazy. How was she supposed to convince her friends that she was actually dating someone who she knew nothing about? What if they actually had nothing in common? What if when they finally do hang out they can’t stand each other? She supposed they could just fake break up just as convincingly as they fake got together. And she decided that was probably the best option. Break it off now before it got too out of hand for everyone involved. It was what she fully intended on doing. Her speech was already planned out and rehearsed multiple times on the walk to Jessica’s party.

She was going to walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and tell him it was a crazy idea and they needed to stop. She didn’t have time for a real boyfriend let alone a fake one and she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But as she rounded the corner and saw the boy waiting for her the plan fizzled out of her thoughts immediately and she found herself skipping over to him with a grin.

“Don’t you scrub up nicely.” She comments, tugging playfully on his shirt.

He had forgone his usual slogan tees with ripped sleeves and dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, a plaid shirt thrown on the top which she was sure she’d seen a friend of his wearing the week before.

Luke shrugs looking almost bashful for a second, “I didn’t want to stand out and show you up. You look nice.” He adds, finally looking her up and down.

She’d chosen a simple dress, dark blue in colour and stopping just above the knee, “Yeah well, I didn’t want to show you up.” She teases with a nudge of her elbow.

“I guess we should get this awful evening over with then?” Luke jokes, offering his arm to her to link hers through which she does instantly.

The party was already in full swing when they walked through the doors, her friends drunk to the point of not caring about her arrival which she was more than pleased about.

“I don’t really drink.” She comments as she grabs a can of cola from the table, Luke helps himself to one after.

“Me neither.” He smiles, “I’d rather know what I’m doing...And not look like an idiot.” He leans up to look over her shoulder at the girl stumbling around in her heels like bambi on ice.

She looks over her shoulder, letting out a laugh at the sight before turning back, “You mean you don’t want to look like that?” She grins and grabs onto his arm, “C’mon, there's nothing more annoying than drunk people.”

She leads him outside, pulling him down onto a bench beside her. The backyard was quieter than inside the house, fewer drunk people shouting and laughing and mostly just people chilling out.

“Honestly, I don’t really like parties.” Luke comments, taking a sip from his can, “I’d much rather hang out with some friends and chill.”

Y/N nods her head in agreement, “Same, but unfortunately my friends are the ones who throw all the parties.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you friends with them?” Luke looks over to her and raises an eyebrow in question, “You don’t really seem to fit with them.”

“Jessica’s my best friend, the others...Well, they’re friends with Jess so I guess I have to put up with them.” She shrugs, averting her gaze from his intense stare and looking down at her can in her hands.

“Yeah but you don’t have to put up with them being bitches to you.” Luke comments.

She lets out a laugh, leaning her head back against the bench and looking over to him, “It’s not that bad. It’s either that or sitting on my own everyday. And I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Y/N! Luke!” Jessica practically screams their names, stumbling through the patio doors and pulling her nights catch along behind her, “I’m so glad you came! Together!”

She leans down pulling her into a clumsy hug, almost knocking Luke out with her elbow as she pulls back.

“So! This is getting pretty serious, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at her friend causing her to laugh.

“Jess, it’s been three days.” She giggles, she feels Luke's hand grab hers and allows him to intertwine their fingers, “Three great days.” She adds on with a grin she was sure was the definition of cheesy.

“I’m so happy for you!” Jessica pouts grabbing onto her friends spare hand, “I guess this means you’ll be going to the dance together?” She gasps, the grin on her face radiating excitement.

“Uh,” She looks over at Luke expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Luke answers for them, squeezing her hand and shooting Jess a smile.

Jess lets out a squeal before the boy attached to her hand begins to tug her back inside complaining that it's cold. She rolls her eyes and mouths an apology before disappearing back into the throng of people inside.

“We don’t really have to go.” She begins to say quickly but Luke jumps up and pulls her with him by her hand.

“I don’t mind. And uh, as much as I dislike parties, we’re not going to annoy your friends if we sit out here all night.” He shoots her a cheeky grin before dragging her into the mass of the party.

They discard their empty cans on the kitchen table and head to the living room which has been turned into a makeshift dance area. The room was packed and Y/N already felt nervous about the idea of dancing and being surrounded by so many people.

“I can’t really dance.” She laughs, stopping in the midst of the drunk dancers.

“It’s not proper dancing,” Luke shrugs, he grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her into him, their chests pressing together as his arms snake around her back, “And your friends are watching.”

He smirks as she averts her eyes to the left, Amber and Jasmine watching their every move with matching scowls causing her to giggle. She lifts her hands and rests them against Luke’s chest, letting him move her along to the pop song which was playing too loudly.

“I don’t think we fit in.” She mentions, watching the couples around her grind against each other.

Luke laughs, “Well if you want to fit in.” He quickly spins her around, pulling her back so her back is pressed against his chest, “We can dance like this.” He whispers into her ear as his hands rest against her hips.

She feels her face heat up and lets out a laugh hoping to cover it up, “I guess this is more believable, but I’m not doing that!” She motions with her head towards the couple beside them who were grinding aggressively against each other.

“Deal.” Luke laughs against her cheek as he slides his arms fully around her waist.

Dancing with Luke for the whole night was not as torturous as she had expected it to be. They talked, at least as well as they could with the loud music. She found she got on with Luke quite well which she hadn’t expected. He was funny and sweet, his usual rugged appearance not one which matched his personality at all. When they finally decided to leave the party he offered to walk her home and she agreed. Their intertwined hands splitting apart once they were far enough away from the party to not be seen.

“It’s weird, having a fake boyfriend.” She comments, looking up to the night sky, the stars barely shining through the group of clouds overhead, “I almost like it. Like having a boyfriend but minus all the drama.”

“I thought you’d never had a boyfriend.” Luke laughs.

She shrugs and looks over to him, “From what I’ve seen with my friends I’m not sure I ever want a real one.”

“Well I’m glad I make an acceptable fake boyfriend.” Luke nudges her with his shoulder eliciting a laugh from her.

------

The following week at school was full of preparations for the dance, Y/N feeling more excited about it than she ever had before. This time she would actually be going with someone! Fake or not, it was still a lot more exciting than standing around alone for the whole night. She’d also spent the week getting to know Luke more. They were ‘dating’ after all so they had to hang out in public to make it look at all believable. He spent a lunch with her and her friends, but she didn’t blame him for hating every minute of it. Amber and Jasmine weren’t nice to her and they definitely weren’t nice to him.

She spent most of her lunches with him and his friends, having much more fun than she’d like to admit. She watched them rehearse, half of it actual rehearsing half of it messing around. She liked Luke’s friends and even started feeling a little bad about lying to them when Alex said how happy he was they were happy together. She found she got on with Reggie the best. He was silly and it was a nice change of pace to her own friends to be around someone who didn’t care what anyone thought.

She was also getting used to the physical touches, maybe too used to it. She noticed that Luke was a touchy person, he was always wrapping his arms around his friends shoulders and nudging them and that didn’t stop when it got to her. She now wasn’t sure if it was because of the fake relationship or because he really was like that with everyone. But she found she didn’t mind. She quite liked when he would hold her hand in the hallways or throw his arm over her shoulders when they were sat somewhere. She had to keep reminding herself that he only meant it in a friendly way.

Friday came around quickly and she took the day off from hanging out with like to spend time decorating with Jess, something they always helped out with for every dance.

“What colours your dress? Is Luke getting a matching tie?” Jessica asks as she helps her hang a banner from the ceiling.

Y/N was sat atop Jessica's shoulders struggling to secure the string to the ceiling, they knew they would get told off if a teacher saw them like this but neither could be bothered to go and find the ladders so they had to make do.

“I was thinking either blue or green,” She comments, her words muffled around the extra string in her mouth, “And I hadn’t even thought about ties.”

“He has to be matching! Otherwise you will look odd!” Jess complains.

She had always been way more invested in fashion than Y/N ever had, she didn’t really see the harm in Luke’s tie not matching her dress, but also knew Jess wouldn’t let it go.

“I’ll talk to him.” She mumbles out, letting out a cheer when she finally gets the banner to stick.

As she climbed down from Jessica’s shoulders she was met with a pair of blue eyes, her friend quickly slinking away behind her.

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jason asks.

She chews on her bottom lip, silently scolding her friend for abandoning her, “Yeah, sure.” She offers a smile.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to go to the dance with me? I know it’s a little last minute but…” Jason rubs the back of his neck with his hand, sending her an awkward shrug.

“Oh! Uhm…” She pauses for a moment at a complete loss for an answer. She was supposed to be going with Luke. But that wasn’t real, whereas this could actually lead to something, she was sure Luke would understand if she cancelled with him, she knew he never usually went to dances anyway.

But as she looked up to answer her eyes landed on the figure walking down the hallway towards them, Luke shot her a smile and raised his brows at the boy in front of her and she thought about how she felt when she was with him. Fake dating or not, Luke was her friend now, and friends didn’t cancel on each other last minute.

“I’m sorry Jason, I’m already going with someone. But thanks for asking me.” She offers him her kindest smile.

“No worries, I thought it was a long shot being this late.” He shrugs again and bids her goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

“What was all that about?” Luke asks, leaning against the locker in front of her with a curious look in his eyes.

“He asked me to the dance.” She answers.

“And?” Luke prompts.

“And I said no.” She laughs.

“You did?” Luke doesn’t try to hide the grin that appeared on his face, “Why would you say no? To an actual date, instead of a fake one?”

“I don’t know.” She fiddles with the bottom of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her, “I considered it, but it didn’t feel right, I didn’t want to cancel on you.”

“Well I’m flattered.” Luke laughs, “I was actually looking for you, what colour dress are you wearing? Jess just shouted at me about ties.”

She just rolls her eyes and links her arm through Lukes to pull him down the hallway.

------

Y/N paces on her front porch as she waits for Luke to turn up, part of her dress skirt scrunched in her hand to prevent her from stepping on it and tripping over. She had never felt so nervous before. She had to keep reminding herself that this is a fake date. Luke doesn’t actually like her and she’s sure the feelings she's starting to get are just results of faking sed feelings in public.

“Why are you out here?” Luke’s voice cuts through her worrying thoughts and she turns to him with a smile.

“My mum was bugging me about pictures. I thought it was safer out here.” She laughs, biting her lower lip at the sight of Luke stood on her porch, his suit fitting his body perfectly and his tie an exact match to the green of her dress.

“You look amazing.” Luke breathes out in awe, he holds his hand out to her and she gladly accepts it and lets him lead her down the steps.

“So do you.” She replies quietly.

The ride to the school is quiet but she’s acutely aware of Luke’s eyes flickering over to her during the drive. She doesn’t comment on it but the butterflies in her stomach go wild at every glance.

“Did you help put this together?” Luke asks as they enter the hall.

The hall was decorated with blue and silver giving it a wintery feel, balloons and streamers around the outskirts and hanging from the ceiling.

She shrugs, “I guess. Jess did most of it, I just helped.”

“Well it looks great.” He compliments.

They stand in the doorway sharing a glance before looking around the room, “So, I don’t usually come to these. What do we do now? I thought people would be dancing.”

She laughs and slaps his chest lightly, “People won't be dancing till later, once the punch has been spiked.” she grins and takes hold of his hand to lead him to one of the tables around the edge of the dancefloor.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised this is still a thing.” Jasmine comments as she sits opposite them, “Are you not bored yet?” She directs her question to Luke who shoots her a glare.

“Why would I be bored? She’s the most interesting girl I’ve ever met, she's actually real.” He comments back playing with her fingers in his.

Jasmine lets out a laugh, eyebrows raised as she lifts her drink to her lips as if she thought Luke was crazy, which she probably did.

“Where’s your date?” Luke asks.

Jasmine’s glass hits the table with a glare, “I’d rather be dateless than have whatever this is.” She points between the two before standing up and stomping off.

“Sounds like jealousy!” Luke calls after her and Y/N erupts into a fit of giggles beside him.

“I think she hates you more than she does me.” She laughs leaning into Lukes side.

The hall soon began to fill up with students, couples slowly making their way onto the dancefloor as the dance fully started. She had spotted Jessica and sent her a wave as the girl made her way to the dancefloor where she would stay for the entire night. Y/N wasn’t sure how to dance and she would take a wild guess that Luke didn’t know either, this didn’t seem like his kind of scene.

“Do you want to dance?” Luke asks as though reading her thoughts.

“You want to?” She responds.

“I can try.” He laughs and stands up motioning for her to join him, “Can’t come to a dance with an actual date and not have at least one dance.” Her cheeks heat up at the comment about it being an actual date, not sure if Luke meant it or if it was just a slip of the tongue, she didn’t point it out.

His hand finds hers as they walk to the dancefloor, finding a spot in the middle which she was thankful for, less likely people will see them there. Luke's arms wrapped around her waist and hers went around his shoulders, much like at the party except their movements were slower.

“Is this right.” He asks and she lets out a soft laugh.

“No idea, but it feels good to me.” She hesitates for a moment before leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest.

The stay pressed together for the next two songs in a comfortable silence before she decides to break it.

“Why are people staring at us?” She asks.

Luke hadn’t noticed but looks around at her question and notices a few eyes on them, he shrugs, “Because we’re the best looking couple here?”

She laughs and slaps his arm, pulling her head away from his chest, “I’m serious! It’s making me nervous.”

Luke sighs and squeezes her waist lightly, “I have no idea. Maybe people are just surprised to see us here together.”

She considers it for a moment before finally nodding her head, “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Luke watches her look around anxiously for another moment before he squeezes her sides again to bring her attention back to him.

“I know we haven’t been here long, but I think we’ve made our point, do you wanna get out of here?” he smiles down at her and she doesn’t have to think twice about nodding her head.

Once out of the building Y/N lets out a sigh of relief, “I didn’t realise how claustrophobic I felt in there.” She breathes out.

“Yeah, it’s tough work being surrounded by people like that.” Luke agrees, “I’d much rather hang out just us two.”

Luke drove them away from the school and to a park, the street lamps illuminating the play area which he led her to. They sat down on the swing set, both angled towards each other as they swayed back and forth slowly. They talked about anything they could think of; family, Luke’s band, memories, movies, music. They talked for what felt like hours before Luke jumped off his swing and held his hand out to her.

“What?” She asks as he leads her to a clear area.

“Well, we’re supposed to be at a dance right? So dance with me again.” He pulls her into his arms as she laughs at him.

“There’s no music.” She comments and he just shrugs.

“I was thinking,” He begins, looking around nervously as he bites his lower lip, “When you’re finished with me being your fake boyfriend, maybe you could let me take you on a real date?”

She felt her cheeks heat up a little bit and didn’t hide the smile growing on her face, “Well, maybe I’m done with you being my fake boyfriend now.”

Luke’s face lights up, his eyes finding hers again and looking a lot less nervous, “Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He asks.

He leans forward, his lips grazing across hers lightly before pulling her into a kiss. She felt like the world around her had stopped, the only thing indicating she hadn’t died and gone to heaven was the rapid beating of her heart. When he pulled away she pouted up at him.

“I only mind that you pulled away.” She replies, his smile being covered by her lips again as she pulled him close to her.

They stayed kissing and swaying in the silence until Luke finally said he should take her home. They planned their first real date for the next morning, because neither of them could wait longer than that.

tags: @rudyypankow @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @lovesanimals @marinettepotterandplagg @alexpjoyner

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp x reader #my writing

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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Hello! I know this may not be your thing but I decided to give it a shot, if not no biggy!

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing Gojo and/or Sakuna with an asexual lover? (One that doesnt feel sexual attraction but doesnt mind kissing and cuddling etc and loves physical affection but nothing beyond that?) And like, how a relationship with that kind of person would come to be?

Because Sakuna and Gojo both give off *he totally fucks* vibes.

So how they ended up with an asexual lover would be interesting, maybe the MC rejects their advances because fear of being hated for being Ase? Because they know that the other person definitely fucks.

How would their relationship work? How would the guy react/comfort the MC.

(Maybe it ends with a epilogue with no sex(as in penetration and blowjobs to be exact but mc later in a relationship would be willing to do things like handjobs and other hands on/Using toys to pleasure their partner because they cant in that way) but lots of passionate makeout sessions/kissing/sucking and worshiping the mc's body? Especially the collar bone)

If you arent into it that's cool! I totally get it!

This is pretty self indulgent after all ahahaha it's hard being an asexual in fandoms lmao.

hi my love!! okay to start off, i’m really honored you sent in this request to me. idk just the fact that you’re trusting me with it is really sweet hehe. i’m fairly knowledgable about sexuality but i don’t like to write about things i’m not 100% sure about because i don’t wanna risk doing anything wrong or accidentally offending you! but!! thank you for going into detail with the request, and i hope this is what you were looking for, and that i didn’t do any mistakes <3

i wrote headcanons so i can go into detail and write for both!!

some nsfw under the cut, my loves! <3

ryomen sukuna

i’d say, to begin with, it would take a small while for sukuna to even be accepting of his own feelings towards you. nothing having to do with your sexuality, just you in general, specifically that you’re human and so different from him. i don’t think sex ever crosses his mind, at least at the start, because he’s too busy being really angry over the way he can’t seem to control his reactions to every little thing you do. so he himself won’t actively work at starting a relationship with you.

but he will realize, over time, that you’re not doing anything either, even though he’s been noticing that you’re not pushing him or his advances away. like any act of protectiveness that involves him physically touching you intimately, you don’t reject, and you’re always ready to retort at any quip he had. he could tell that these feelings he had for you were mutual, he was just so confused as to why you weren’t doing anything about it.

sukuna’s a thousand year old cursed spirit. he does not know shit about sexuality. i think the way he’d look at it is fuck who you want and fuck who you like. i feel like nicki minaj’s said that before, has she? he doesn’t like thinking too much about it, you know?

his confession would probably be a kiss because words? he doesn’t know them. when he feels you return the kiss he’s, deep down, elated, really, and this is simply because of his naturally sexual personality, he starts hinting at more, until you stop him. he’s really confused because you just kissed him back? you’ve been kissing him for so long why do you want to stop now? he can see the fear steadily growing in your eyes and he’s even more confused now he’s just. humans are so weird.

when you cautiously tell him, “i don’t want to go further than this. is that okay?” you look like you’re waiting for the world to erupt in your face. he just frowns and shrugs like, “yeah but that’s not the point. do you not want me?”

it takes about an hour and a half for sukuna to properly process what you’re saying. at first he’s so thrown off by it, not by you! he just can’t process the fact that someone doesn’t feel any sexual attraction towards someone or doesn’t crave sex at all. it’s not that he’s rude about it, it’s just a really foreign concept to him, you know? when you add that it’s just sex, and you’re okay with a lot of other things, the gears in his brain finally start working again and he just goes.

*shrugs* ok.

literally lmao. like i said earlier, sukuna doesn’t give a shit like whatever do what you want.

because of the rush of emotions he’s feeling towards you, and the fact that this in itself, a relationship, and a relationship with a human too, he doesn’t really focus on the fact that he might want more from you. he’s easily satisfied with a lengthy make out session, and he admits it to you every time he sees you get a little anxious or unsure of yourself.

however, his needs do grow with your relationship. it’s kind of clumsy, your transition into a proper long term relationship, especially with sukuna, but you two make it work.

you agree to try different ways to pleasure him, even if he kinda rushes through them because he’s generally just excited to have your hands on him. at first he’s content with anything you’re offering, but it makes him feel kinda useless when you won’t let him touch you and you have to remind him that your needs are different than his and that you’re sated differently.

i see sukuna as a curious and experimental guy, so he would definitely let you use toys on him. nothing too extreme, because he still needs that sense of control, but you do use some toys like a fleshlight or a vibrator to rile him up. he likes using your hand too, because it’s always so soft against him and it feels a hundred times better than any toy. he learns not to overstep any boundaries though, and not to do anything that might make you uncomfortable even if it takes him a little longer. like i said, the whole idea is just different to him, so it takes him a while to understand, and he’s still learning as he goes!

he loves your make out sessions, especially after you establish your boundaries and your limits and what you’re willing to do for him. he absolutely adores leaving your skin a sky of blue, pink and purple it sends chills down his spine marking you like that. he’s always touching you all over, and just loves to grab and knead at your skin.

in the proper long term, he doesn’t mind it at all tbh. the two of you develop a system, and he’s okay with it. the same way you would never cross his boundaries and force him to do anything he doesn’t want, he’d do for you too! it really never truly mattered, and it truly never will.

gojō satoru

different from sukuna, i think gojō would definitely be knowledgable about things like this. idk he just seems like the kind of guy that’s innately so aware of everything around him, and can read people exceptionally well.

he probably picked up on the fact that you weren’t comfortable with sex, or just didn’t experince sexual attraction, on his own, but never really brought it up because it was never his place. but the same way he picks up on that, he picks up on your obvious crush on him. he pays both details no specific attention until he starts to realize his own feelings for you, and begins on his subtle advances.

he tried to make his advances as sfw as possible, you know? just in case his suspicions were confirmed to be true. he was just extra flirty, sometimes touchy but never in an inappropriate way. very subtilely like always having your shoulders or knees touching or dusting of your jacket or feeding you a piece of his food. cute little things like that.

he gets super worried when he notices you start to distance yourself from him, because he can’t imagine what he might’ve did to push you away. he overthinks a little, worried that he overstepped his boundaries or made you uncomfortable in any way, but he isn’t afraid to approach you about it, to make sure he doesn’t repeat his mistakes, especially with someone like you, who he’s slowly growing more and more infatuated by.

when you admit to him you’re asexual, he realizes he was right, but then he’s like, “and? did i do something?” and now it’s your turn to be confused because here you were worried about rejection but here he was worried about you?

this specific incident is what makes you let loose and finally just freely admit your feelings for him. he’s ecstatic about it, seriously! all that’s on his mind is that he gets to go on a date with someone he really likes. sex is the last thing on his mind, and yeah, you’ll eventually have to talk about it, but not for now. it’s for later, when things get a little more serious.

they do get serious, to both your delights, but the dreaded moment is approaching you. gojō definitely sits you down and says, “we’re only having this talk so i know never to do anything outside of your limits. everything about this relationship is 50/50, and i want to know ways to make you feel good, too.”

please sir your hand in marriage.

i definitely believe gojō’s a kinky guy, and is more than willing to try out literally any sex toy you pull at him. genuinely, he’ll try anything you wanna try. if you ever offer a handjob, he’ll ask a million times over if you’re sure. usually, he likes to just do it himself, but have you there next to him. he won’t touch you, but your hands will be in his hair, and you’ll be kissing his neck, or just murmuring how much you love him in his ear, just spurring him on. he knows the last thing on your mind is anything sexual, but there’s just something about being under your watchful, almost bored gaze as he fucks himself.

anyways before i get too into it lmfao, he loves kissing you. loves loves loves it. not even full blown make out sessions, just gentle, serene kissing. he can kiss you for hours.

he is also incredible at body worship and praise. paints your pretty collarbone pink and purple, whispers about how you’re perfect for him, describes all your features to you like poetry. he’s an incredible lover, really. nothing can make him fall out of love with you, absolutely nothing.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo headcanons #saturo gojo headcanons #gojou x reader

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