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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Get Me Out of Here || Rook Hunt

You’re isekai’d into a trashy novel and stuck as a tragic side knight character. All you want is survival, but your boss is Rook Hunt—a poetic, eccentric duke.

Now you’re caught in his chaos and, worse, you kinda don’t mind.

Series Masterlist

You’re a completely normal person. You eat normal meals at normal times, sleep the normal amount of hours (give or take a few, who needs all eight anyway?), and hold down a regular, soul-crushingly normal job. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills and lets you indulge in your one true love: reading web novels for five hours straight like some kind of feral literature goblin.

Your current obsession? The Lady’s Tragic Love. It’s the sort of story that you can’t put down—not because it’s good, but because it’s so excruciatingly terrible that it loops back around into comedy. The heroine has all the personality of a wet tissue but somehow manages to ruin everyone’s lives with reckless abandon. It’s almost impressive.

You rub your temples as you skim yet another chapter. “Oh my God, this woman has the moral compass of a black hole,” you mutter.

The plot makes less sense the deeper you go: the heroine starts off as the daughter of a down-on-their-luck noble family. Her father racks up an unholy amount of debt, so she’s forced to marry a viscount who—get this—is actually a nice guy. Like, genuinely kind. He agrees to marry her in name only to protect her from debt collectors, even offering to fund her hobbies.

And what does she do? Poison him. Poison him!

"Okay, maybe she's misunderstood," you think, in the kind of delusional optimism only a web novel enthusiast can muster.

Nope. She poisons him because she "can’t stand looking at his face," which is only mildly unattractive and not the ogre-like monstrosity the text implies. Also, he was literally helping her stay alive.

“Oh, sure, let’s kill the only decent male character in this hellscape. Why not?” you hiss, scrolling furiously.

After committing literal murder, the heroine sets her sights on an archduke, who is tall, handsome, and very much engaged to the so-called villainess. The villainess is stunning, kind, intelligent, and inexplicably hated by everyone because—checks notes—she’s too perfect?

At this point, you're gripping your phone so hard that it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in half. “Why is the villainess the villain? This should be the heroine’s title! She’s practically speedrunning how to be the worst human being alive!”

But no, the heroine gets rewarded for her nonsense. The archduke doesn’t fall for her (because he has taste), but the crown prince does. The prince, apparently a sucker for chaos, marries her. Instead of being happy with her new title and riches, the heroine spends her days scheming to ruin the villainess’s life because, in her words, “How dare the archduke choose someone that isn’t me?”

You pause and reread that line. Then reread it again.

“WHAT?!” you yell so loudly that your downstairs neighbor bangs on the ceiling.

It’s a spiral of nonsense that drags you through emotional whiplash until you finish the last chapter with a migraine and a full-blown existential crisis. You stare at the screen. "Why...why did I do this to myself?"

You stumble out to your tiny balcony to clear your head, phone still in hand. The cool night air washes over you as you lean on the railing, your brain buzzing with rage and confusion.

“Why does she get a happy ending?” you grumble. “She’s a walking red flag factory! The villainess deserves to be queen, and the prince deserves a lobotomy for his taste in women!”

In your frustration, you kick the balcony railing. Unfortunately, your landlord hasn’t exactly been diligent about repairs. The rusted screws holding it in place give way with a terrifying screech.

“Oh, come on,” you say, deadpan, as the railing collapses beneath you.

You plummet ten stories down, bouncing off an awning like some kind of cartoon character before landing face-first in a suspiciously placed fruit cart.

As darkness creeps in, your final thought is not of regret, nor fear, but of pure, unfiltered pettiness:

“I hope my next life is more exciting… and I never have to read about this heroine again.”

With that, you pass out, blissfully unaware of the absurd fate that awaits you.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented, and immediately ask yourself the first logical question: Why the hell am I alive?

The last thing you remember is gravity betraying you and a suspiciously convenient fruit cart breaking your fall. But when you sit up and look around, it’s very clear you’re not in your crappy apartment anymore. For starters, this place is way too clean, smells faintly of vanilla, and—oh, is that sunlight streaming through those beautiful glass windows? Not the dim, depressing flicker of the streetlight outside your old place?

Something is very wrong.

You scramble out of the bed, which is definitely not your rickety twin-sized monstrosity held together with duct tape and misplaced hope, and start poking around. The furniture is elegant, the carpet is plush, and there’s an oil painting on the wall that practically screams, Welcome to Generic Medieval Europe™!

The realization slams into you with all the subtlety of a freight train: You’re in that garbage web novel.

You pause, frozen, your brain throwing up a million red flags at once. Your knees almost buckle. "Nope. No. Absolutely not. This is some kind of cosmic punishment," you whisper to yourself, clutching your temples.

You creep towards the ornate mirror on the other side of the room, your reflection getting clearer with every step. “Please,” you mutter, “if there’s a single merciful entity out there, don’t let me be the heroine. Or the villainess. Or, God forbid, one of the male leads.”

You finally reach the mirror, squeeze your eyes shut, then crack one open. And there you are: just some random face.

“Oh, thank God,” you exhale, slumping against the wall. You’re not the heroine. You’re not the villainess. You’re not one of the tragic walking disasters that make up the main cast. You're just… some person. A total nobody.

But just as you’re about to bust out your victory dance of mediocrity, something catches your eye. You lean closer, squinting.

Wait.

No.

NO.

You’re that nobody.

You’re the tragic commoner knight who gets blackmailed by the heroine, coerced into doing her dirty work, and ends up assassinating the villainess for her. The same commoner knight who dies in three chapters because the heroine throws them under the bus as soon as the villainess's fiancé finds out what happened.

You stagger back from the mirror like it’s cursed. “Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. I did not reincarnate into this medieval soap opera just to get unalived in the dumbest way possible,” you say, pacing the room like a lunatic.

Your character’s life flashes before your eyes: the abusive father, the crippling family loyalty, the gambling debts. This poor soul had it rough even before getting turned into the heroine’s personal murder minion. And you? You’re not about to pick up that torch.

So you grab some parchment and pen what might be the most passive-aggressive resignation letter of all time.

“To Her Highness, the Crown Princess,

Kindly do your own dirty work from now on. My father can gamble himself into oblivion. I’m out. Good luck with your reign or whatever.”

Satisfied, you sign it with an unnecessarily large flourish, slap it on the desk, and prepare to bounce.

You’re halfway down the hall when you almost walk face-first into him.

Rook Hunt, the walking embodiment of “this guy doesn’t belong in this novel but here he is anyway,” stands there with his golden hair and overly dramatic smile. He’s loud. He’s eccentric. He’s dressed like he’s about to break into a musical number about the beauty of life. Oh, and he’s also the duke whose household you served in as a knight before you quit.

“Mon ami!” he exclaims, throwing his arms wide like you’re long-lost lovers. “You’ve returned to me! What an exquisite twist of fate! Shall we celebrate the beauty of reunion?”

“No,” you say flatly. You attempt to sidestep him, but Rook doesn’t just let things go.

“You cannot leave me again! Do you not wish to resume your role as my loyal knight?”

“Absolutely not,” you snap on instinct, because why on earth would you willingly dive back into this mess? But then it hits you. Wait.

Rook isn’t part of the main plot. He’s not the crown prince, not the archduke, not the villain, and definitely not one of the doomed love interests. He’s just… there. A minor character. A colorful extra who pops up to sprinkle poetic nonsense into the plot and then wanders offstage.

Your brain kicks into overdrive. If you stick with him, you’ll be close enough to the action to keep tabs but far enough to avoid the heroine’s nonsense. Plus, salary. And minor characters like him rarely die!

Your decision solidifies. You plaster on a winning smile and nod. “Actually, on second thought, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Magnifique!” Rook practically beams as he grabs your arm. “Come, let us bask in the splendor of returning home!”

You follow him, letting his endless stream of poetic babble wash over you. Is this the best plan? Probably not. But it beats getting murdered for a heroine who couldn’t find her moral compass with both hands and a map.

You make it back to the duke’s grand estate—because of course it’s grand. Every aristocrat in this godforsaken novel seems to have a mansion the size of a small country. Rook practically floats through the gates, his dramatic energy causing every passing servant to give him the “not again” look. You follow, still trying to process the reality of your current situation.

After an unnecessarily flowery tour of the place (you’ve been here before in this body, but you let him talk because it’s easier than interrupting), he finally stops in the courtyard. He turns to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Now, mon chevalier, reclaim your rightful position as my trusted bodyguard!” he declares, flinging his arms wide as if inviting the heavens to applaud him.

You blink. “…Respectfully, sir, why do you need a bodyguard?”

He pauses, staring at you like you just asked why water is wet. Then, with an infuriatingly serene smile, he says, “Ah, but the shadows are filled with secrets, my dear knight! The beauty of life is in its mysteries, n’est-ce pas?”

You squint at him. “Okay, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because the wolves, mon ami. The wolves.”

You freeze. “…What wolves?”

Rook straightens up, tilting his head as if contemplating the meaning of the universe. “Ah, they are everywhere and nowhere. In the forests, in the halls, in the hearts of men. Who can say where danger truly lies?”

This man just said a whole lot of words without saying anything.

“Right,” you say slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But you’re, like, ridiculously strong. I’m pretty sure you could take on any wolf—metaphorical or not—by yourself.”

“Ah, mon chevalier,” he says with a wistful sigh, placing a hand on his chest like he’s reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Strength alone cannot protect one from the unexpected, the unseen, the poetry of peril!”

You stare at him, trying to figure out if this is some sort of elaborate prank. But no. This man is completely serious.

“So… wolves. Poetry of peril. Got it,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “I’ll, uh, just… go patrol or something, I guess.”

Rook claps his hands together, beaming. “Ah, magnifique! I knew you would understand! Truly, you are a gem among knights!”

You slink off, still scratching your head. You’re 90% sure the wolves are a metaphor for absolutely nothing, but who are you to question the logic of a trash novel? At least the pay is good.

You quickly realize this trash novel is trying to trash you right back. It’s like every corner you turn, fate has decided you don’t deserve a peaceful life.

Walking through the garden to calm your nerves? Someone leaps out of the hedges with a dagger. You narrowly dodge, trip over a decorative fountain, and the attacker runs off, cackling.

Trying to enjoy the roses because you’re starting to think, “Hey, if I gotta die, at least let it be aesthetic?” Nope, arrow. Right past your ear.

By the fifth assassination attempt (some guy “accidentally” dropping a potted plant from a balcony), it clicks. The heroine must’ve decided since you’re not doing her dirty work anymore, she needs to eliminate you before you spill the beans. But, unlike her, you have brains.

So, you write a letter.

Dear Villainess and Esteemed Archduke,

I hope this letter finds you well, though considering the general chaos surrounding us, that feels optimistic.

I am writing to inform you of an unfortunate situation involving a certain someone (cough the crown princess cough) who has, shall we say, less-than-noble intentions toward your continued existence.

To clarify: she asked me to assassinate you. I know, shocking. However, as someone who values integrity, personal safety, and not being murdered by shady royalty, I’ve decided to step down from my position as her unwilling assassin.

This does mean she may hire someone else to handle the job, which is unfortunate for you but also none of my business anymore. I’m not sure how you typically handle murder plots, but I suggest taking precautions, like perhaps not smelling your roses or standing under precariously placed flower pots.

Lastly, while I am admittedly a pawn in this chaotic mess, I felt it was only fair to let you know what’s going on. I wish you both a long, unassassinated life.

Warm regards,

Your Local Retired Assassin

P.S. Please don’t kill me. I’m just the messenger.

You thought this letter would buy you peace. Instead, it bought you an invitation.

And by “invitation,” you mean you’ve been dragged into a private meeting with the villainess and the archduke, who are both sitting across from you now, looking like they’re deciding whether to thank you or strangle you.

“So,” the villainess says, her voice like ice. “You’re telling me the crown princess is plotting to kill me?”

“Uh, yes,” you say, your palms sweating. “But, like, not me anymore! I’ve retired. Permanently.”

The archduke raises an eyebrow. “Why would she want to kill us?”

You glance at the villainess. “Uh… because you exist?”

Before the villainess can stab you (she looks ready), the door swings open, and in saunters Rook.

“Ah, my friends!” he says, grinning ear to ear. “How serendipitous that we are all here. I believe I can shed some light on this matter.”

You gape as Rook launches into a detailed explanation of the heroine’s convoluted scheme—exactly what she’s planning, who she’s hiring, and even the color of the dress she’ll wear while gloating about it.

The villainess and the archduke exchange a glance, then rise, thanking Rook for his “invaluable insight” before sweeping out of the room, leaving you and Rook alone.

You turn to him, your jaw still on the floor. “How do you even know all that?”

Rook just winks at you. “Ah, mon chevalier, the shadows have ears, and I am their maestro.”

He struts out, humming a jaunty tune, leaving you sitting there, more confused than ever. At this point, you’re half-convinced Rook is either a genius or just making stuff up as he goes. And honestly? You’re too tired to figure it out.

You’re stationed at the edge of the garden, trying your best to blend into the scenery while the tea party unfolds. Rook, as usual, is the life of the gathering, passionately chatting with Vil and Epel, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You’re in your usual "bodyguard mode," which mostly consists of staring off into the distance and trying not to fall asleep. It’s peaceful—for once—until Epel casually drops a comment loud enough for even you to hear.

"Rook, you finally got them back, huh?"

Your brain screeches to a halt.

Got you back? Back? What does that mean? What is there to get back? Was there something to get back in the first place?

You barely have time to process any of this before Rook, in the most Rook way possible, interrupts with a flurry of poetic nonsense.

“Ah, young Epel, the winds of fortune have indeed graced me with their bounteous song! But let us not dwell on the past, for the present blooms before us like a radiant garden of opportunity!”

You blink. Did… did that mean anything? Epel seems to think it doesn’t, judging by the way he rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. But you’re too busy processing the odd look on Rook’s face to care.

Because, for the first time ever, Rook looks nervous.

His usual serene confidence is still there, but there’s a hint of something else—a faint pink dusting his cheeks, an almost imperceptible shift in his tone. And why the hell is your heart fluttering at the sight?

You squint at him, trying to decode whatever is happening here. Is he… embarrassed? Flustered? Can Rook even be flustered?

Before you can spiral further into overthinking, you notice Vil’s sharp gaze cutting through the moment like a knife. His violet eyes lock onto yours, and an infuriatingly amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Oh no. He knows.

Vil, of course, pretends like nothing’s happening, smoothly pouring himself another cup of tea and joining the conversation like the consummate aristocrat he is. But every so often, you catch him glancing at you with that same entertained expression, like he’s just discovered a juicy secret.

You try to shake it off, refusing to let yourself be dragged into this nonsense. But Rook’s flushed face lingers in your mind, and every time he smiles at you for the rest of the party, you feel the heat creeping up your own cheeks.

Great. Just great. Whatever this is, it’s going to haunt you for days.

It started with an uproar in the palace—a desperate, urgent call for help sent to Rook, Duke of Hunt.

"The wolves are attacking!"

You were mid-sword practice when the messenger arrived, breathless and frantic. He handed the summons to Rook, who took the parchment with an amused smile.

"Wolves, you say?" he mused, tapping his chin dramatically.

"Yes, my lord!" The messenger practically collapsed from the effort of delivering the message. "They’ve breached the outer gardens, and the prince and heroine request your immediate assistance!"

Rook looked at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, mon chevalier, do you recall what I told you once about wolves?"

You blinked, frowning. "You mean the thing about being surrounded by wolves one day? I thought you were joking."

Rook’s grin widened. "Oh, I never jest about wolves."

You opened your mouth to demand clarification, but Rook waved the parchment dismissively. "Alas, I must decline."

The messenger froze. "W-What? But…you’re the Duke of Hunt! The greatest tracker and marksman in the kingdom! Without you, the palace is doomed!"

Rook leaned forward conspiratorially. "Tell me, mon ami, what makes you think I’d risk life and limb for the likes of the heroine and her precious prince?"

The messenger stammered. "B-But—"

Rook held up a hand, silencing him. "No, no. I simply cannot. My schedule is far too packed. Why, just this morning, I promised my chevalier here that I’d help reorganize their weapons rack." He turned to you with a wink. "Isn’t that right?"

You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Yep. Super busy."

The messenger left, looking utterly defeated. You figured that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Over the next two hours, messengers kept arriving, each more desperate than the last. Rook refused them all with increasing flamboyance.

One messenger was sent away with, "Alas, the stars are not in alignment for such a hunt!"

Another was dismissed with, "The winds whisper that this is not my destiny today."

Finally, a personal plea came from the heroine herself. She barged into the estate, dramatically throwing herself at Rook’s feet.

"Oh, noble Duke!" she wailed. "You are the only one who can save us! Please, I beg of you!"

Rook tilted his head, pretending to think it over. Then he glanced at you, his expression suddenly sharp beneath the veneer of cheer.

"And what of my chevalier?" he asked.

The heroine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You’ve made quite a nuisance of yourself lately," Rook said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice. "Why, only yesterday, you sent someone to ambush them in the gardens, did you not?"

Her face paled.

"I might reconsider," Rook said, his tone taking on a singsong quality, "if you promise to leave them alone from now on."

There was a long, tense pause. The heroine’s expression flickered between rage and fear before she finally forced a smile. "Very well. I promise."

"Splendid!" Rook clapped his hands and stood. "To the hunt, then!"

You stood there in stunned silence as he walked out the door, bow in hand. When he turned back to flash you a grin, you couldn’t help but mutter, "What the hell just happened?"

Rook’s laugh echoed through the halls, and you were left wondering yet again if you’d ever fully understand this ridiculous man.

It’s payday, baby.

You’ve never been more excited to hold a pouch of jingling coins in your life. Your day off couldn’t have come at a better time, and you’ve already decided to treat yourself. No assassination attempts, no cryptic poetry, no Rook yammering about beauty—just you, the market, and sweet, sweet retail therapy.

After wandering for a while, you stumble upon a fruit stall, and your eyes light up. The produce is incredible—vividly colored, juicy, and nothing like the waxy, suspiciously glossy stuff you’d get in your original world. You don’t even know what half these fruits are, but they smell amazing, and you’re buying them all.

As you carry your haul back to the manor, an idea hits you like a freight train. You’ve been craving dessert—specifically, something you can’t get in medieval Europe. Something simple, sweet, and utterly anachronistic.

And that’s how you end up in the kitchen, surrounded by fresh fruit, flour, sugar, and whatever else you’ve managed to scrounge up. You’re determined to make crêpes. Yes, you know they weren’t invented yet, but the cooks don’t even seem to know what a waffle is, so they’re not going to stop you.

It takes a bit of trial and error—because, shocker, medieval kitchens are not equipped for finesse—but eventually, you’ve got a plate of soft, golden crêpes filled with fresh fruit and drizzled with honey. It’s so beautiful it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You’re mid-bite, mentally congratulating yourself, when Rook materializes out of nowhere like some kind of dessert-seeking missile.

“Mon chevalier! What marvel have you crafted here in this humble kitchen? The scent alone rivals the sweetest perfume!”

You freeze. This is fine. He’s just curious. There’s no reason to panic. Subconsciously, you scoop up a bite on your fork and offer it to him, your body on autopilot.

Rook doesn’t hesitate, leaning in and accepting the bite with the elegance of a prince at court. “Magnifique! Truly, you have woven magic into this creation, mon cher!”

You relax slightly, pride swelling at the compliment—until he takes your hand and licks a stray drop of honey from your finger.

Your brain short-circuits.

Before you can even form a coherent thought, Rook grins at you with that infuriatingly charming smile of his, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You are as talented in the kitchen as you are with a blade,” he says, his voice warm and soft, as if he hasn’t just dismantled your sanity.

And then he’s gone, striding out of the kitchen with his usual jaunty step, leaving you standing there like an idiot, replaying the sensation of his lips on your cheek and his tongue on your finger.

You slowly sink to the floor, crêpe in hand, trying to process what just happened.

“Why,” you mutter to yourself, taking another bite of your crêpe for courage, “does this keep happening to me?”

Life had been…dare you say it, pleasant recently. No assassination attempts, no tea parties and no surprise arrows whizzing by your head. You were almost convinced this world might not be so bad after all.

But like clockwork, the plot reared its ugly head.

You were outside, basking in the rare serenity of a quiet afternoon, when the shouting began. You knew the voice instantly. It was grating, furious, and way too familiar.

Your abusive father—the original you’s deadbeat excuse for a parent—had somehow crawled out of the woodwork.

“You useless brat!” he snarled, stomping toward you. “How dare you stop sending money? Do you think you’re too good for your family now?!”

Oh, for the love of—

You crossed your arms, already done with the theatrics. “First of all, family implies mutual care and respect, neither of which you’ve ever provided. Secondly, kiss my ass.”

The man’s face turned a deep shade of purple, veins bulging in his forehead. He raised his hand, and you didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. You were just irritated that he had the audacity to show up and ruin your vibe.

But before his hand could even swing down, an arrow whizzed past, slicing through the air with deadly precision. It nicked his cheek, leaving a shallow cut, and he yelped like a scolded dog.

You turned, and there he was.

Rook.

But this wasn’t the poetic, flowery Rook who praised sunsets and waxed lyrical about everything under the sun. No, this was Duke Hunt. His bow was clenched tightly in one hand, his expression colder than you’d ever seen. His eyes locked onto your father, sharp and unyielding, and for the first time, you truly understood why people called him a hunter.

Your father stumbled back, clutching his cheek. “Y-you’ll regret this! I’ll get my revenge!” he spat, turning tail and running like the two-bit villain he was.

You didn’t even watch him go. You were too busy staring at Rook, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that, dammit, he looked good like this.

You silently scolded yourself. Really? Now? This is when you’re going to have a revelation about your feelings? Pull it together.

Rook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and without a word, he closed the distance between you. Before you could process it, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm, steady embrace.

You stiffened for a moment, but then it hit you—you were shaken. You hadn’t realized it until now, but the encounter had left your hands trembling. And Rook…he didn’t say a word. He just held you, radiating warmth and reassurance, as if he knew exactly what you needed.

Slowly, you relaxed, leaning into him, letting the tension bleed out of your body. For once, there were no witty remarks, no poetic musings, no cryptic riddles. Just Rook, steady and solid, and the quiet comfort of his presence.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Maybe life here wasn’t so bad after all.

It was the hunting competition trope—the bread and butter of every third-rate villainess novel ever written. Noblemen rode out in droves to massacre innocent wildlife in the name of prestige, while the women gathered on the sidelines to swoon over who could kill the most majestic creature.

Normally, you'd find this whole affair ridiculous, but today? Today, it was a strategic opportunity.

Rook and you had cooked up a plan. After bagging his game, Rook would publicly gift it to the villainess, cementing the stance of his household against the heroine. A subtle yet unmistakable message to everyone present: this duke’s house wasn’t here to play politics; it was drawing battle lines.

Rook was, predictably, ecstatic about it all. “Ah, mon chevalier, what a splendid opportunity to honor beauty and justice with the art of the hunt!” he proclaimed, twirling dramatically as he readied his bow.

What you didn’t anticipate was his strange fixation on a handkerchief before he left.

Throughout the day, noblewomen approached Rook, each one batting their lashes and holding out dainty, embroidered handkerchiefs. It was practically a parade of desperate peahens.

“Oh, Lord Hunt, a token for luck!” cooed one particularly persistent lady, pushing her frilly kerchief toward him.

Rook clasped his hands to his chest with exaggerated reverence. “Ah, mademoiselle, your thoughtfulness moves me beyond words, but alas, I cannot accept. To carry such a treasure into the wild would be to risk its loss, and I could never bear such tragedy!”

Another woman attempted to loop her kerchief around his wrist directly. Rook gracefully dodged, as though she were offering him a live snake. “My dear lady, your artistry is unparalleled, but the only adornment fit for this hunt is the pure, untainted spirit of nature herself!”

By the third rejection, you were practically biting your tongue to keep from laughing.

But then came the curveball.

“Ah,” Rook sighed as he approached you. “If only I had a handkerchief imbued with sincerity. A simple, honest token to guide my aim and steady my heart!”

You blinked at him. “What, like…this?” You pulled out your completely ordinary, unembellished handkerchief and held it out.

Rook’s eyes lit up as though you’d just handed him the Holy Grail. “Mon chevalier! How perfect! How divine! This humble square of cloth shall be my guiding light!”

Before you could protest, he tied it around his arm with a flourish and rode off, looking like he was ready to star in his own personal opera.

From his place in the pavilion, Vil Schoenheit took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, his sharp eyes locking onto yours with a glint of pure amusement. The smirk tugging at his lips seemed to say, Oh, I know exactly what’s going on.

Meanwhile, Epel squinted between you and Rook, his expression shifting rapidly as though he’d just cracked the secret to immortality. He whispered something to Vil, who nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure.

What the hell is going on? you thought, baffled.

Fast forward to now, the present, where the plan was supposed to culminate with Rook triumphantly presenting his prize to the villainess. Simple, elegant, strategic.

So why, why, was Rook standing in front of you holding a literal griffin?

“Uh, Rook,” you whispered through gritted teeth. “What are you doing? This is supposed to go to the villainess.”

But Rook was having none of it.

“Ah, my loyal chevalier,” he declared loudly, drawing the attention of every noble in the vicinity. “It is only fitting that such a prize goes to the one who inspires my steadfastness and resolve!”

Your jaw dropped. “Rook. No.”

He turned his radiant smile on you, looking like a proud schoolboy showing off a crayon drawing to his teacher. “Yes!”

The gathered nobles erupted into murmurs, and you could already feel the weight of every single judgmental stare. This was not part of the plan. But despite your internal screaming, a small, annoying part of you couldn’t help but feel…flattered. This was a duke, and you were just a knight. A very confused, very underqualified knight, sure, but still.

Vil, still seated with his ever-present cup of tea, took another long, pointed sip, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

This was the drama he’d signed up for.

The hallway leading back to the room where Vil, Rook, and Epel were sitting felt oddly silent, the muffled voices of their conversation barely filtering through the door. You weren’t one to eavesdrop—but when you heard your name, well, curiosity got the better of you.

"Just confess already," Epel was saying, his tone exasperated. "We’ve all seen the way you look at them."

Vil chimed in, his voice tinged with amusement. "Epel is right for once, Rook. Love is about timing, and yours is abysmal."

"But love is an art, mon ami," Rook replied, his tone unusually hesitant. "It cannot be rushed. It must unfold naturally, like the petals of a flower in spring."

"Okay," Vil drawled, clearly unimpressed. "But what happens when someone else plucks your ‘flower’? Say, the gardener they’ve been spending so much time with?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You leaned closer, your heart pounding, hoping—no, needing—to hear Rook’s response.

Instead, you heard nothing.

The stillness stretched unbearably until you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the door open, startling all three occupants. "What are you talking about?"

Vil raised an eyebrow, the picture of nonchalance, though the corners of his mouth twitched with mischief. "Perfect timing, as always. I’ll leave you two to sort this out."

He grabbed a very reluctant Epel by the collar and dragged him toward the door. "Wait, I wanna see what happens!" Epel protested, but Vil shut the door behind them with a decisive click.

Which left you and Rook alone.

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a look that you hoped masked the frantic hammering of your heart. "So…what’s this about a confession?"

Rook’s usual composure faltered. For once, the poetic, perpetually self-assured Rook you knew looked…unsure. Vulnerable. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his gloves, and he avoided your gaze, staring instead at the floor.

"Rook," you said softly, stepping closer. "Please, just tell me what’s going on. I need to know."

He finally looked up, and the raw emotion in his eyes was enough to steal your breath.

"Mon chevalier," he began, his voice low and trembling, "I have loved you from the start. At first, it was the camaraderie of equals, a kindred spirit I admired. But when you returned from the heroine’s side, defying expectations and staying true to yourself…you captured my heart completely."

You blinked, stunned. "Rook, I—"

He continued, the words spilling out as though he’d been holding them back for far too long. "You never treated me like I was strange. You accepted me as I am, even when others mocked my passions or dismissed my eccentricities. I never truly needed a bodyguard. I just needed you. Near me. Always."

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and you felt your resolve crumble.

You sighed, but it wasn’t from exasperation. It was the sound of relief, of something clicking into place. "Next time," you said, stepping even closer, "just tell me your feelings directly. It’ll save us both a lot of trouble."

Before he could respond, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

It was everything a first kiss should be—long, searing, passionate. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you flush against him as though he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside that kiss ceased to exist.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Rook’s lips quirked into a smile as he whispered, "Your lips are the sweetest arrow, mon amour, and they have pierced my heart beyond repair."

You burst into laughter, burying your face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. "Gods, Rook, only you could ruin a moment like this with something so cheesy."

He chuckled softly, his arms still secure around you.

And as you stood there in his embrace, you couldn’t help but think that this ridiculous, trashy novel world was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

The parlor was warm with the golden light of afternoon sun filtering through the windows, but the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. You stood near Rook, his arm casually draped across the back of your chair, as Vil and Epel looked at you expectantly.

“Well?” Vil prompted, raising a perfectly arched brow.

You glanced at Rook, who smiled encouragingly, as if to say, go ahead. Clearing your throat, you announced, “We’re…together.”

Vil sighed dramatically, setting down his teacup with a soft clink. “Finally. I was starting to think I’d have to intervene.”

Epel, on the other hand, froze mid-sip of his cider. Slowly, he set the glass down, stood, and walked over to you. His expression was a mix of grief and dread, like someone had just informed him of some terrible, life-altering news.

He placed both hands firmly on your shoulders and looked you dead in the eyes. “Good luck,” he said, solemn as a funeral bell. “This is a life sentence, y’know.”

Rook chuckled, clearly amused. “Mon cher Epel, you wound me! Surely being with moi is more of a treasure than a trial?”

Epel turned to him, unimpressed. “Treasure? You follow people for fun. You recite poetry to wild animals. You can’t even eat pie without analyzing its existential meaning. I mean, who does that?”

You were already laughing, shaking your head as you patted Epel’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Epel. This is a sentence I’m more than happy to serve.”

Vil smirked behind his tea, watching the scene unfold with obvious amusement. “Frankly, I’m just relieved we won’t have to endure any more of his tragic sighs every time you left a room.”

Rook clasped a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Oh, Vil! My sighs are poetry incarnate!”

Vil didn’t even blink. “Your sighs are the sound of unspoken melodrama. Spare me.”

Epel plopped back into his seat with a long groan, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I guess congratulations or whatever. At least now we can all stop pretending we don’t notice him staring at you like some love-struck puppy.”

“That’s rich,” you shot back, grinning. “You’re the one who looks like your pet rat just died every time we get close.”

Epel huffed. “I’m just saying! Now you gotta deal with him being even more poetic! And clingy! You thought the prince and heroine were bad? Wait till you see Rook when he’s in love. You’re doomed.”

At the mention of the prince and heroine, Vil made an exaggerated sound of disgust. “Speaking of those two… Honestly, has anyone ever been so painfully predictable? The prince has all the charm of wet cardboard, and the heroine—don’t even get me started on her hair ribbons.”

“Ah, the heroine,” Rook sighed wistfully, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Always so delightfully transparent. Her schemes are like open windows to her soul.”

You snorted. “If by soul, you mean her desperate attempts to turn everything into a sob story, then yeah, sure.”

Epel leaned forward, grinning. “Did you see her crying at the hunt competition? Like, girl, it’s a competition. What did you think would happen? That the griffin would apologize and hand itself over?”

Vil smirked, tapping a manicured finger against his chin. “Or how about the prince declaring his ‘eternal devotion’ to her at the banquet last week? I nearly choked on my wine.”

Rook chuckled, turning to you with a soft smile that was far more genuine than his usual theatrics. “Ah, but let us not waste all our words on such trivialities. This moment, mon amour, is one of joy.”

You leaned into him, your laughter subsiding into a contented smile. His arm slipped around your shoulders, holding you close as Vil and Epel continued their playful bickering in the background.

For the first time since you’d been thrown into this absurd world, you felt completely at ease. If this was the result of being trapped in a trash novel, then so be it. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

Trash Novel Masterlist

Complete Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt #rook x you #rook hunt x you #rook #trash novel chronicles

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divinesolas · 9 months ago

Text

Shots

summary: you’ve been best friends with jacaerys since you were children but due to his recent girlfriend you two have barely spent anytime together. You two are forced back into the same space when you attend cregan starks party and tensions rise

r.q: Nothing specific but please give more modern jace w smut. Your work is so gooddd 😩

w.c: 2k

c.w: porn with a little plot, a little angst, modern!college!cregan, modern!college!jace x reader, cregan the miracle worker, oral (f!receiving), protected sex (WRAP IT UP!), not proofread

a.n: i have a couple requests im supposed to get done before this but when i saw this in my inbox it wouldn't leave my mind 😭 love you guys hope you enjoy 🫶

You didnt want to come to this party tonight but cregan had practically begged you to come.

‘i dont know cregan.’ you had told him while walking out of your shared lab class. ‘oh come on itll be fun,’ he pauses and thinks for a moment before having a devious grin on his face. ‘if youre worried about it i promise you wont see jace. he said hes busy’ you eye him and he swears hes not lying so you shrug and tell him sure you’ll be there leading him to hug you before running off.

its not like you hated jacaerys, you couldnt the two of you are best friends. Well you're currently unsure of how the two of you stand, his current girlfriend seemed so determined to be rid of you and you didn't want to get in the way you backed off not wanting her to feel uncomfortable but its since left you feeling strange.

You should feel happy for him, he's found someone he seems to like but instead you’re left with a sharpness in your chest anytime you think about him and someone else. You like him. No maybe you love him but he clearly doesn't seem to like you like that so you can never tell him that. You're happy he isn't at this party and is busy doing whatever he’s doing. You decided you need to take your mind off him, you can keep yourself stuck in your head over this and you certainly cant be crushing on a taken man.

Now youre stuck talking with this guy, something Lannister you don't even know his name, but he seems more than eager to be talking with you and for that a part of you is grateful you didn’t have to work to hard to get a guys attention.

“Wheres the bathroom?” “Ill take you to one.” He grabs your hand harshly and begins to lead you to the staircase. You tug at the hand hes stuck holding and attempt to get him to let go telling him you dont need him to hold you. He says something about it just being quicker and you should just follow him. This rings alarms in your head and now your gripping the rail and forcefully trying to get out of his grip. “get the fuck off me!” “just shut the fuck up and come with me.”

“What the fuck do you think your doing man?” Your eyes widen in shock at his voice as the lannister scoffs at him, “just trying to take the lady to the restroom velaryon.” “she doesn't wanna go with you man let her go. and theres not a bathroom up there.” He walks up to the other guy and shoves him back his hand lets go of yours and with your new freedom and you quickly put a distance between you two. The lannister mumbles some shit under his breath and ends up walking upstairs alone, “she isnt even worth it.”

“are you okay?” jace quickly rushes back over to you and grabs your hand check it looking at you alarmed. “im okay thank you jace.” He lets out a sigh of relief and takes a step back running a hand through his hair. You just stare at him and your heart races, god hes so hot wearing just a pair of shorts and an open white button up with his whole chest out, the necklace you had given him for his birthday a couple years ago sits nicely on his chest, his hair is wet and even so is his chest leading you to realize he had been out in the pool. He was at this fucking party. Cregan that fucking asshole. “i thought you weren't coming.”

He tilts his head at you and shakes his head, “who told you that?” “Cregan.” He hums and turns away for a second mumbling some stuff under his breath you swear you hear something about cregan being an ass before turning back to you. “He must have gotten the dates mixed up.” All you can do is nod and play with your fingers, its awkward. You have never felt awkward around jace so this was different, of course your own feelings have to come around and ruin everything. While you look down at your hands you dont notice that hes just staring at you with a starry eyes. “You want a drink?”

You look up at him and you feel hot finally noticing his gaze on you, “sure.” The two of you make your way to the kitchen where you walk past cregan who gives you a wink as you walk by that fucking asshole, what was he even trying to do? As you watch jace you cant help yourself, “hows… oh whats her name?” you mumble the last part under your breath unable to even remember the poor girls name. He just hums and hands you a cup, “Claire? Oh we broke up.” you gasp and look at him shocked, “oh my god im so sorry.” he smiles at you and shakes his head easily tossing the shot into his mouth. “She cheated on me, you know that guy mason,” “the guy in the photography course?” “yeah with him,” “he looks like her cousin,” “thats because he is her cousin.” you gasp in horror on of you hands flying to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh.

He laughs, and makes a fist to cover his mouth, all you can think about is how beautiful he is, “You can laugh you know its funny.” with his permission you dub over with a laugh and shake your head, “thats unbelievable.” “imagine my shock!” “Im still sorry by the way, thats really shitty.” He continues to look out in the distance as he takes other shot, “its alright love i was gonna dump her anyway.”

You take a sip from your cup and just watch him, “why? thought you liked her?” For the first time in awhile he looks over at you and you take notice of the affectionate look in his eyes as he smiled softly at you. “i realized i liked somebody else.” “Ah.” you look away and you feel him move closer to you and grab you chin to look at him. “You wanna know who?” “Jace..” Hes standing so close you can smell his cologne, his hand leaves you chin and runs down your arm. “Ive known her for a long time but i only just realized how much i love her, I’ve been a fool.”

You kiss him, reaching your hands to cup his cheeks, he deepens the kiss his hands grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him pressing you directly against him. You dont know how long youve been standing there just kissing him, when you two pull away to take a breath you can hear a get a room from someone who walks by and you remember youre just standing in some random guys kitchen and press your head into his neck. “this is so embarrassing.” he just laughs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You wanna come back to mine?” His implications are very clear to you especially as you feel his hardness pressing against you, you nod.

Not even thirty minutes later he had you laid out bare on his bed, his mouth latched onto your clit leaving you desperately clinging onto his hair as you throw your head back, “jace.” he hums as he brings one of his hands down to play with your folds as his other stays firmly on your stomach pressing you down onto the mattress.

as you get closer your hands stray from his hair and fist the newly washed sheets under you as you continue to call out his name. you've been with a couple guys in the past but none pf them compared to how jace had been making you feel, none of them made you quiver and shake when you came like he did. he mouth finally detaches from you and he sits up looking at you while licking his lips. “That good?” You slap his chest and continue to take some deep breaths, “fuck you.” “i will i promise.”

His shirt and shorts had been thrown off somewhere, probably out laying in his hallway along with your clothes. He quickly slides a condom on before climbing on top of you so his necklace is dangling in front of you. “You good?” you nod at him and he kisses down your neck and leaves kisses all over your breasts. “Need you jace.”

“you need what baby?” you groan as you feel him push his dick between you fold lightly rubbing up and down. “Please jace.” “what is it? tell me and ill do anything for you.” He looks at you expectantly and you let out a strained moan as you begin to beg him, “please fuck me jace please please.” he hums happily and quickly readjusts himself, “You only needed to ask baby.”

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as he thrusts into you, as your hands grip his his back and running down it as he continues to thrust, thats definitely going to leave a mark. but based on the hiss and groans he lets out that tells you he likes it.

You swear youve never felt so good, he continues to hit the deepest and sweetest parts of you. He fucks you so fast and hard you're shocked the bed under you stays intact, he brings one of his hands down to your clit and your hands dig into his lower back and you cant help but press your head to his shoulder. “Jace fuck jace.” your mouth his muffled against his skin but he acknowledges you by bringing his lips to yours into a harsh kiss matching the thrusts of his hips. “Wanted this for so long jace.” he groans and you swear he somehow begins to move faster, “me too baby me too, now that i have you ill never let you go,” he licks at the sweat that has dripped his way to you neck and his hands move to grip your waist, “gonna fuck you everyday, i promise fuck best pussy in the world.”

You whimper at his words and your head is once against pressed against his shoulder, “im so close.” “cum for me baby please i need to feel it,” he hisses as he feels you bite into his shoulder and his eyes rolls back into head, “im right behind you fuck cum please.”

“i love you.” the words leave you easily as you cum. He cums at the sensation of you releasing, “fuck i love you.” leaving him twitching and still as he huffs and puffs, out of breath. he pulls out with a hiss and lets out an apology as he sees you wince, he climbs out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, getting rid of his condom and coming back with a towel cleaning you and him up before climbing into bed next to you.

“fuck that was good.” the two of you laugh and you roll yourself to look at him. “did you mean it?” he hums and draws shapes on your stomach, “mean what?” “that you love me?” He looks at you with a dumbfounded look, “are you serious?” you rolls your eyes and try to turn away but he grabs you and pulls you close to him pressing your face against his chest, “of course i love you you idiot.” you smile and press a kiss on his chest before you fall asleep.

when you wake up the next morning and check you phone you see some text from cregan from last night.

‘saw you leave with jace just now 😁’

‘you’re welcome you bitch 🫶’

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

Text

Too Late: Part 2

SUMMARY: After leaving, you've put some distance between you and Tyler. And Tyler has to come to terms with you being gone. But he can't let you go, and comes up with a plan to try and when you back - or at least figure out what to say to you. That is until an unexpected accident throws a wrench in both of your plans. Tyler is determined to show you that he can be there for you when you need him to, but the emotions of being around him again start to rise inside you. Memories of what you once had - and what you lost - keep pulling at you. Especially when Tyler doesn't let the space between you stop him from quietly being there when you need him most.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support on Part 1 of this! I was definitely not expecting this story to take off and get the reactions it did! Thank you for the comments, reblogs, and likes! This story ended up being way longer than I planned on it being and there will be a PART 3 coming soon (probably sometime next week after the holidays so I can finish up the last few holiday fics I'm working on)

WARNINGS: None, just a lot of heart-shattering angst. This one made me cry while writing it, so be prepared!

WORD COUNT: 6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

TYLER’S P.O.V.

Tyler stood on the front porch of his old farmhouse, staring out at the horizon as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the tree line. The weight of the conversation he was preparing for sat heavy in his chest. His truck keys dangled from his fingers, his grip tightening and loosening as doubt gnawed at the edges of his determination.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you–only that he needed to say something. He couldn’t let things end the way they had, not without trying to make it right. He had so many things he still needed to say to you.

But the weight of your words, the hurt in your eyes the last time you’d spoken, kept playing on a loop in his head. Then the doubts crept in. What if he’d already blown it? What if showing up just made everything worse?

But then he thought, what if it helped? What if it fixed everything? What if you gave him a chance?

With a final sigh, he pushed off the railing and headed for his truck. He figured you were probably at your mom’s house which wasn’t too far of a drive from his place. He pulled open the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel.

He had just turned the engine over when his phone buzzed in the cup holder. He glanced down and saw your best friend’s name flashing across the screen. His stomach dropped. Why would she be calling? Was it to chew him out for breaking your heart? He wouldn’t blame her if it was. Tyler hesitated, his hand hovering over the phone. He almost let it go to voicemail, but then a pang of guilt hit him. He deserved whatever lecture your friend was about to give, so he swiped to answer.

“Look,” he said, bracing himself. “I know what you’re going to say, and-”

“Tyler.” Your friend interrupted, her voice sharp but trembling slightly. His brow furrowed at the crack in her tone. “Something’s happened.”

The world seemed to tilt under his feet, Tyler clutched the steering wheel as your friend’s words came out in a rush. “It’s her mom. There was a car accident. Her mom’s in surgery right now. She…she’s at the hospital by herself, and-”

“Wait,” Tyler cut in, his voice hardening as he processed her words. “Surgery? Is…is her mom gonna be okay?”

“They don’t know yet,” your friend admitted, her voice quieter now. “Tyler, I don’t know. It…it sounds bad. And she’s…she’s trying to be strong, but you know how she gets. She’s telling us all that she’s fine, but I don’t think she is.”

Tyler stayed silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His pulse pounded in his ears as the reality of the situation hit him. Your mom was in the hospital. You were alone. And here he was, debating whether or not he should show up.

“I think you should go.” Your friend said.

“I don’t think I’m the guy she wants to see right now,” he admitted, his voice low.

Your friend huffed, frustration creeping into her tone. “You’re exactly the guy she needs right now. Whether she realizes it or not.”

“She told me-”

“I know what she told you, Tyler.” Your friend snapped, cutting him off. “Trust me. I was there the night of her birthday when you weren’t. I know. But I also know she’s hurt and scared and stubborn as hell, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you. She won’t say it, but I will…get over yourself and get to the hospital. She shouldn’t be alone right now, and you know it.”

Tyler’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t respond right away, his mind spinning with doubts and what ifs. What if showing up made things worse? What if you pushed him away again?

“Tyler.” Your friend said softly, her tone shifting. “You love her, don’t you?”

The question hit him square in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Of course I do,” he murmured.

“Then prove it,” she said simply. “Be there for her.”

Your friend hung up after that, but her words lingered in his mind. Tyler sat frozen for a moment, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He could still hear your voice from the last time you’d spoken, the way it had cracked with anger and pain. The fear of making things worse clawed at him, but your friend’s voice echoed louder: Be there for her.

Tyler put the truck in drive and started making his way towards the hospital. Screw his doubts. This wasn’t about him. It was about you. And if there was even a chance you needed him, he wasn’t going to let you down again.

YOUR P.O.V.

The waiting room was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional voice paging a doctor over the intercom. You sat in the corner, hunched over with your elbows on your knees, your hands clasped tightly together. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but you hardly noticed. Your foot tapped a restless rhythm against the tiled floor, the nervous energy pulsing through you too much to contain.

You’d sent everyone away. Your best friend had tried to stay, but you insisted you didn’t need her hovering. You also told her some lie that the nurses said only immediate family could stay. Your dad had called multiple times, offering to send a neighbor or someone to sit with you until he could get there. But you told him the same thing. You didn’t need anyone there with you. You’d be fine until he could get there.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by the steady thud of boots against the linoleum floor, echoing down the hallway. You barely glanced up, expecting to see another loved one ignoring your instructions to stay away.

Without lifting your head, you muttered, “Go home. I’m fine.”

The boots stopped. You waited for a response, but none came. Irritation flared, and you straightened slightly in your chair.

“I said, go home,” you repeated, sharper this time.

Still nothing. Finally, you glanced up, ready to tell whoever it was to leave in no uncertain terms.

The words caught in your throat when you saw him. Tyler stood in the doorway, his hat tucked in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed with concern, but his eyes softened when they met yours.

You swallowed hard and dropped your gaze back to your hands, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room. “Your friend called me,” he said simply. “She told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in your lap.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be here. You can leave.”

Tyler didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting. Finally, you glanced up to see that he hadn’t moved an inch. His expression was unreadable, but there was a steadiness in his gaze that made your chest ache.

“Go home, Tyler,” you said again, this time with more force.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you. “When you can look me in the eye and tell me you’re okay without lying,” he said, his voice steady and calm, “I’ll leave. Until then, I’m staying right here.”

The breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly looked away, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. You couldn’t meet his gaze. Not when he saw right through the mask you’d been wearing all day.

Your eyes landed on the brown bag in his hand. The logo was instantly recognizable, and despite everything, a flicker of confusion crossed your face.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Tyler glanced down at the bag as if just remembering it. He crossed the room, closing the distance between you, and held it out.

“Figured you hadn’t eaten today,” he said simply. “It’s well past supper, and you need food. Stopped by your favorite place and got you your usual.”

You blinked at him, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. For a moment, you just stared at the bag in his hand, unsure whether to take it.

When you didn’t move, Tyler set it down gently on the chair beside you and crouched down so he was at eye level. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Just eat something, okay?”

The tears you’d been holding back all day finally broke free, and you quickly turned your head, pressing the heel of your hand against your eyes. Tyler didn’t say anything, didn’t try to touch you or pry. He just stayed there, steady and calm, his quiet presence more comforting than you wanted to admit.

You didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, so you reached for the bag, the smell of your favorite meal filling the room as you opened it. It was still warm, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket.

You managed to eat about half of the food Tyler had brought before your stomach protested. Setting the container back into the bag, you folded it shut with deliberate care, focusing on the crinkle of the paper as a distraction. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and unrelenting. The silence stretched again, broken only by the distant murmur of hospital staff and the faint beeping of monitors from somewhere down the hall.

After a few moments, Tyler cleared his throat, the sound startling in the stillness. “Do you have any updates?” he asked, his voice low but careful, as if afraid of pushing too hard. “Have you heard how she’s doing?”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head without looking up. You couldn’t speak—not without your voice breaking. You clenched your hands in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep the tears at bay.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he watched you, the effort you were putting into holding yourself together painfully clear. He saw the slight tremble in your hands, the way your shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Without a word, he stood from the chair across the room and moved to the one beside you. You didn’t look at him, but you noticed the shift, and felt the heat of his presence closer now.

You glanced sideways as Tyler settled into the chair, his broad frame filling the space beside you. He didn’t say anything, but he opened his arm, leaving it resting on the back of the chair as he leaned slightly toward you. It wasn’t an overt gesture—just enough to let you know it was there, an unspoken invitation.

You hesitated, your breath hitching as you looked at the open space he was offering. A part of you wanted to retreat, to keep the wall between you firmly in place. But the ache in your chest—the one you’d been fighting all day—finally won out.

Slowly, you leaned over, your weight shifting until your head rested against his chest. His arm closed gently around you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. He didn’t pull you in too tightly, giving you the space to move if you wanted, but the warmth and steadiness of him made you feel like the world might stop spinning just for a moment.

The steady beat of his heart was soothing against your ear, a rhythm that felt like home in a way you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about right now. You closed your eyes, your shoulders sagging as the tension slowly began to leave your body.

Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t ask any more questions or try to fill the silence. He just sat there, holding you as the tears you’d been holding back slipped quietly down your cheeks. And for the first time that day, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t completely alone.

The quiet warmth of Tyler’s presence, combined with the emotional toll of the day, eventually caught up to you. Your breathing slowed as you sank deeper against his chest, the exhaustion overtaking your attempts to stay awake. Tyler glanced down at you and realized you’d fallen asleep, your face relaxed for the first time since he’d arrived.

He didn’t move. He stayed as still as he could, not wanting to disturb you. His arm remained firmly around you, holding you steady as your head rose and fell gently with the rhythm of his breathing.

Tyler rested his head back against the wall, his free hand rubbing tiredly at his face. He stared at the sterile ceiling tiles above, his mind racing with a mix of relief and guilt. He was here, and you were letting him be here, but he couldn’t help thinking about all the times before when he hadn’t been.

Nearly two hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional murmur of passing staff. Tyler shifted slightly, careful not to wake you. Just as he was debating whether to adjust his arm that was starting to go numb, the sound of the waiting room door opening caught his attention.

He turned his head, his gaze landing on the doctor who stepped into the room. The man was middle-aged, with a kind but tired face, his scrubs wrinkled from what must have been a long shift. Tyler straightened slightly, his movements gentle enough that you didn’t stir.

“Are you the family of (your mom’s name)?” The doctor asked, his voice soft but clear.

Tyler hesitated for a second, glancing down at you. “She is,” he said, his voice low so as not to startle you. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he shook your shoulder gently. “Hey, wake up,” he murmured.

You stirred, your brow furrowing as your eyes blinked open. For a moment, you seemed disoriented, but then you sat up quickly, your hand brushing your hair from your face as you glanced between Tyler and the doctor.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice still thick with exhaustion.

“The doctor’s here with an update about your mom,” Tyler said gently, giving you a reassuring look.

You swallowed hard and turned your attention to the doctor, your hands twisting nervously in your lap.

“Surgery went well,” the doctor said, his tone calm and steady. “She’s in recovery now. We’ll keep her here for a few days to monitor her, but she’s expected to make a full recovery.

A wave of relief hit you so hard it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. Tyler’s hand moved to rest lightly on your shoulder, grounding you as the doctor continued.

“She’ll be groggy for a little while when she wakes up, but she’s stable.” The doctor reassured.

“Can I see her now?” you asked quickly, your voice trembling.

The doctor nodded but held up a hand. “Only one person can go in at a time. She needs to stay as calm as possible while she comes out of the anesthesia.”

You hesitated, glancing at Tyler for just a moment. His blue eyes softened, and he gave you a small, encouraging nod. “Go ahead,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Your heart clenched at the steadiness in his voice. Without another word, you stood, your legs shaky beneath you as you followed the doctor out of the waiting room. Before you passed through the door, you glanced back at Tyler. He was still sitting, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher—concern, affection, and maybe something deeper.

He gave you a faint smile, his eyes never leaving you as you disappeared into the hallway.

A few hours later, the hum of the hospital had settled into a quiet rhythm as the nurses moved efficiently between rooms. You had been sitting at your mom’s bedside for as long as they allowed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. Relief had begun to seep into your bones, replacing the earlier tension, but exhaustion lingered, weighing heavily on you.

Eventually, a nurse came in, her smile kind but firm. “She’s stable now and will need her rest through the night. We’ll call if there are any changes, but it’s best if you go home and get some sleep too.”

You nodded, reluctant but understanding, and stood slowly, brushing your hand against your mom’s. You whispered a quiet goodbye and promised you’d be back first thing in the morning.

As you made your way back to the waiting room, you pulled your phone from your pocket. You’d been dropped off earlier and hadn’t even thought about how you’d get home. You scrolled through your contacts, landing on the name of a neighbor who’d always been quick to lend a hand. Just as you pressed the call button, Tyler’s voice interrupted you.

“I can drive you home,” he said softly, standing up from the chair where he’d been waiting.

You froze, lowering the phone from your ear. “Tyler, it’s late. You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted, his voice calm but steady. “But I’d like to. If you’d let me.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The idea of being alone in the car with him made your chest tighten. Not because you didn’t trust him—but because you weren’t sure you could handle the quiet, the possibility of him pressing you about everything that had happened between you.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Tyler raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just a ride home,” he assured you. “That’s it. No talking, no pushing. I know this isn’t the time for… everything else. I just don’t think you should be alone right now.”

His words settled over you, soft and sincere. You studied him for a moment, searching for any sign of an ulterior motive, but there was none. Just a quiet steadiness in the way he looked at you, the same steadiness that had kept you grounded all night.

Finally, you nodded, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Okay,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

Tyler gave a small nod, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slipping it on. He didn’t say anything else, just gestured for you to follow him.

The night air was crisp, the faint hum of insects filling the quiet as you and Tyler stepped into the dimly lit hospital parking lot. He stayed a step ahead, his boots scuffing softly against the pavement as he led the way to his truck. When you reached it, Tyler opened the passenger door, pausing to glance at you.

You climbed into the seat, the familiar scent of his truck—faintly leathery, with a trace of pine—wrapping around you like a memory. He waited until you were settled, buckling your seatbelt, before carefully shutting the door.

You watched him through the windshield as he walked around the front of the truck, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the rumble filling the silence.

As he eased out of the parking lot, Tyler glanced over at you. “Do you want me to take you to your mom’s house or home?”

The word hung in the air between you for a beat too long. Tyler’s jaw tightened slightly, and he quickly corrected himself, his voice quieter. “I mean… my place. Do you want me to take you to my place instead?”

You turned your head to look out the window, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across your face as the truck rolled forward. Your mom’s house would feel empty, too quiet for you to face tonight. Every room would carry the weight of her absence, the echoes of your worry. The thought of sitting there, alone with your thoughts, was unbearable.

“Can I… stay with you tonight?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

Tyler’s hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel, but he didn’t look at you. Instead, he just nodded and turned the truck onto a familiar road, the one that led to his old farmhouse.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Of course.”

The drive was quiet after that, neither of you saying much. The occasional hum of the truck’s tires against the road filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more like an unspoken agreement to let the quiet speak for itself, to let the exhaustion and the events of the day settle.

As the farmhouse came into view, its porch light glowing faintly in the distance, you felt your shoulders relax ever so slightly. Tyler parked the truck in the gravel drive and killed the engine, the sudden stillness almost startling.

He glanced at you, his voice low. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Tyler unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside and flipping on the lights. The warm glow illuminated the familiar space, but as you stepped through the doorway, you hesitated. The house felt the same, smelled the same—like cedarwood and faint traces of whatever cologne Tyler always wore—but you didn’t.

You paused just inside, unsure if you had the right to walk through it as freely as you used to. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, and your arms wrapped around yourself almost instinctively, like a shield.

Tyler paused near the bottom of the stairs and glanced back at you, his brow furrowing slightly when he noticed your hesitation. He rubbed the back of his neck before offering a small smile.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, his voice soft. Then, after a beat, he added, “You know where everything is.”

You nodded faintly, still unsure, but before you could say anything, he gestured to the stairs. “I’m gonna run up and see if I can find you something comfortable to wear for tonight. Be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, Tyler jogged up the stairs, his boots thudding softly against the wooden steps. You stood there for a moment, listening as the sound of his footsteps faded, before finally stepping further into the house.

You found yourself drifting toward the kitchen, your fingers brushing lightly against the edges of the counters as you passed. The farmhouse kitchen had always been one of your favorite spots—it was warm, lived-in, and full of charm. But now, as you glanced around, you noticed how disheveled it was.

Dishes were piled high in the sink, crumbs scattered across the counters. A forgotten coffee mug sat near the edge of the table, and you spotted a pair of work gloves tossed haphazardly onto one of the chairs. It was clear Tyler hadn’t been keeping up with housework.

Your chest tightened slightly. He was probably just as exhausted as you were after the week you’d both had. Without really thinking, you filled the sink with warm water, adding soap until suds began to rise. You rolled up your sleeves and got to work, grabbing the first plate from the pile.

The rhythm of cleaning was soothing, your hands moving on autopilot as you scrubbed and rinsed. One dish turned into two, then three, until the pile began to shrink. You didn’t hear Tyler come back down the stairs until his voice broke through the quiet.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Startled, you glanced over your shoulder. He was leaning against the doorframe, holding a neatly folded T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in his hands. His expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

“I know,” you said softly, turning back to the sink. “I just… wanted to help.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Tyler set the clothes down on the table and walked over, his boots clicking lightly against the tile. He reached past you and grabbed a clean dish towel, drying one of the plates you’d just washed.

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, the only sounds coming from the water and the soft clink of dishes. When the last plate was dried and put away, Tyler finally spoke again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he repeated, his voice lower this time.

You dried your hands on the towel and glanced at him. “I know,” you said again, meeting his gaze. “But I wanted to.”

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding. He motioned toward the clothes he’d brought down. “Those should be comfortable.

You nodded, taking the clothes from the table and brushing past him, your fingers grazing his for just a moment.

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding, but instead of leaving it at that, he started to speak, his words coming out in a ramble—something you knew he only did when he was nervous.

“I, uh, was looking to see if maybe you’d left something here. You know, clothes or—just… something. But it looks like you cleared everything out when you left—”

He cut himself off abruptly, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a stone dropped into still water. You saw the flicker of regret cross his face as if he wished he could take them back.

Your chest tightened the reality of the distance between the two of you crashing back in. You forced a nod, your throat too tight to speak, and clutched the clothes tighter to your chest.

Without another word, you turned and headed toward the bathroom down the hall, your steps quick and purposeful, driven by the sudden need to put space between you and him.

You changed into the clothes Tyler had given you, silently hating how comfortable they felt. The fabric was soft and worn in all the right ways, and the faint scent of him lingering on them—woodsy, clean, and unmistakably Tyler—settled you in a way you didn’t want to admit. It felt too easy, too familiar, and you tried to shake the thought as you ran a hand over your face and took a steadying breath.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the farmhouse was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wood floors beneath your feet. You padded into the living room and spotted a throw pillow and blanket folded neatly on the back of the couch. Without giving it much thought, you reached for them and began to lay them out, preparing to make a bed for the night.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you pause, and you turned to find Tyler standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

You glanced at the blanket in your hands and then back at him. “I’m making a place to sleep,” you said simply, motioning toward the couch.

He shook his head almost immediately, his expression firm. “No, you’re not.”

Your brow knit in confusion. “What do you mean, no? I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Tyler.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened briefly, but his voice was calm and steady when he spoke. “And I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“Tyler—”

He cut you off, his tone a little more resolute this time, though still gentle. “You’re sleeping upstairs. In the bed. End of discussion.”

You frowned at him, not sure whether to feel annoyed at his stubbornness or oddly comforted by it. “And where exactly are you planning to sleep, then?”

“The couch,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

“Tyler, that’s ridiculous—”

“It’s not,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just slightly. “You’ve had a hell of a day, and you’re not about to spend the night crammed on this couch. You need to rest, and you’re sleeping in the bed.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the way he was looking at you—his gaze steady and full of quiet insistence—made the words catch in your throat. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you. Finally, you exhaled, realizing there was no point in fighting him on this.

“Fine,” you muttered, reluctantly grabbing the pillow and blanket and handing them to him. “But if you wake up sore in the morning, that’s on you.”

Tyler chuckled softly, taking them from your hands. “I’ll take my chances.”

As you turned to head upstairs, you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t until you were settled beneath the covers, the familiar scent of the farmhouse wrapping around you, that you realized how much you’d missed the quiet comfort of this place—and, if you were being honest, him.

Downstairs, you heard the faint sound of the couch creaking as Tyler settled in, followed by the soft exhale of his breath. And for the first time in days, you felt the edges of exhaustion pulling you into sleep, knowing you weren’t alone.

The soft sounds from downstairs pulled you from your sleep, and for a moment, you lay there disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings grounding you in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. The room was too quiet, too still, and it wasn’t until you spotted the framed photos on the wall—the ones you’d seen countless times before—that you remembered where you were. Tyler’s house. His bed.

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the faint smell of coffee and something cooking reached you, accompanied by the faint clang of a pan. Pushing the covers off, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, padding toward the stairs.

The kitchen came into view as you reached the bottom step, and you stopped in the doorway, momentarily caught off guard. Tyler was standing at the stove, barefoot, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that clung to his back just enough to remind you how unfairly attractive he was. He looked so casual, so domestic, like he belonged here in this space that had always felt like home to you too. And that realization was almost too much to take, given the current mess of emotions between the two of you.

He must have heard your footsteps because he turned, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he saw you. “Morning,” he said, his voice warm and easy, like this was just another day in the life you used to share. “How’d you sleep?”

You hesitated for half a second before answering. “Fine,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “Thanks for…everything last night.”

He just nodded, as though it were a given. “Feel free to make yourself some coffee,” he said, motioning toward the Keurig sitting on the counter.

You blinked, your gaze landing on the sleek machine that had replaced the old, battered coffee pot he’d had for years. The sight of it caught you off guard, like it was proof that time had moved on in this house even when you hadn’t been here to see it.

“I didn’t remember how you like your coffee these days,” Tyler admitted, running a hand through his hair. “With all the stuff you used to add to it, I figured I’d mess it up. But there’s still some pods and syrups in the cupboard. And I, uh—” He cleared his throat and motioned toward the fridge. “I went to the store and picked up some creamer. It’s the kind you used to like. Figured it couldn’t hurt to have it, just in case.”

Your chest tightened at his words, at the small gesture that felt far too thoughtful for what you thought you deserved right now. You opened the fridge to find the familiar bottle sitting there, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at it, trying to process the sudden wave of emotions.

“Eggs’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Tyler said, his voice pulling you back. He glanced over his shoulder at you as he stirred something in the pan. “Hope you’re hungry.”

You shut the fridge door and turned, your gaze settling on him again. He looked so at ease, so natural standing there, that it made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your voice steady as you replied, “Yeah. I think I could eat.”

He nodded, turning his attention back to the stove, and you lingered in the doorway for a moment longer before making your way to the counter to fix your coffee. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d stepped back into a memory, even though you knew things weren’t the same anymore.

Not even close.

You sat across from Tyler at the small wooden table, the one that had been in this kitchen for as long as you could remember. The plates between you held scrambled eggs and toast, simple but enough to ease the ache of an empty stomach. The air between you was thick with an awkwardness that neither of you seemed willing to address, and the only sounds filling the room were the soft scrape of forks against plates and the occasional clink of a glass being set back on the table.

You stared down at your plate, taking another small bite, trying to focus on the food and not the tension that was quietly suffocating the space. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Setting your fork down, you cleared your throat softly, your voice tentative as you broke the silence.

“Thank you,” you said, your gaze lifting to meet his, though he didn’t look up right away. “For everything. For… being there for me.”

Tyler’s fork hovered over his plate for a moment before he set it down. He looked down at his plate, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “It was about time,” he murmured, his voice quiet but weighted. “About time I was there when you needed me to be.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, cutting through the delicate balance you’d been trying to maintain. You blinked, your throat tightening as you realized what he meant. He wasn’t just talking about yesterday or last night. He was thinking about all the times he hadn’t been there—your last birthday, the other moments and milestones you’d quietly endured alone. The guilt in his tone was unmistakable, and it settled heavily in your chest.

“Tyler…” you started, your voice soft, but he quickly shook his head, stopping you before you could go any further.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said firmly, finally glancing up at you. His eyes were steady, but there was a flicker of something raw in them that made your breath hitch. “It is what it is.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, cutting off any argument you might have made. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what you could even say to that.

Tyler leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he tried to steer the conversation away from the growing tension. “Once you’re done eating,” he said, his voice lighter now, though it still carried a trace of that earlier guilt, “I can take you over to your mom’s to get your car.”

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject, even if it felt like a half-hearted attempt to escape the unspoken weight between you. “Yeah, okay,” you murmured, reaching for your glass and taking a sip of water.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less oppressive. You both focused on finishing your meals, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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hellsitedotcom · 3 months ago

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

*·˚ FIRST KISS HEADCANONS : SUNDAY *·˚

Yeah, Sunday escalated a little, which is why he was moved to this post, lol. That's...kinda throwing off my initial plan for these posts. Anyways, bone app the teeth??

*·˚ warnings/info: well, there's obviously going to be mentions of kissing; reader implied to be shorter than Sunday. *·˚ english isn't my native language!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

⭒˚｡⋆ Sunday ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ Sunday the kinda guy to have his first kiss after an old-fashioned date or something. I mean, my characterizations of everyone keep changing more extremely than the weather in Germany, but yeah, bare with me for the current one. ⇢ Spending time with Sunday (and sometimes Robin) was almost like an everyday occurrence to you. You were...friends? Well, you certainly were close. It wasn't unusual for you to be alone with him, have long conversations about nothing and everything, go out to get dinner with him. ⇢ And you didn't expect today to look any different when he invited you over to spend time with him at his place, thinking he just needed some company in Robin's absence. After all, you were close, and that's what people who got along with each other did - spend time together. ⇢ But, as you spent time with him, laughing over anything you found funny enough, you felt the energy between you was...different than usual. Sometimes you caught Sunday looking at you a little longer than usual, physical touch lingering, and eventually, you found yourself standing beside him on a balcony, overlooking the Morning Dew Dreamscape, your meeting slowly coming to an end.

''I don't think I'll ever get over this view,'' you sighed, leaning against the railing as you watched Morning Dew's sunrise. You had been to a handful of different Dreamscapes, but nothing could ever compare to those that shared the beauty of the morning sun with you. Beside you, Sunday chuckled softly, his shoulder almost brushing yours as he joined you, ''Well, maybe there's a beautiful sunrise somewhere out there just waiting for you to finally witness it.'' ''I have to find a way off this place first, no?'' you quipped, glancing over at him, ''And I guess I can't really do that until Robin returns. Can't just leave you alone, can I?'' When your eyes met his, you found that Sunday had already been looking at you, a gentle expression on his face. ''Well, I'm glad you're still around,'' he muttered quietly, his smile making you flustered, ''I don't think there's anyone whose company I enjoy more.'' ''Yeah? Huh, I don't think Robin would want to hear that,'' you joked, your voice softer than before, almost hesitant. The atmosphere around you was changing, the innocence of the early morning hours suddenly filled with another emotion, one you couldn't name just yet. Sunday just laughed at your response, turning to face the sun, ''I doubt she'd be surprised.'' ''I'm sure she realized it long before I did,'' he continued, catching you slightly off-guard. With a perplexed expression, you just stared at him, repeating his words in your head. You knew that Sunday considered you someone he shared a close relationship with - otherwise, you wouldn't be here right now - but it still made your heart skip a beat to hear him voice it all so openly. In the pale morning light, you found yourself entranced by him, watching the way the soft rays danced across his face, making his golden eyes shine even brighter than you had ever seen. His words kept repeating in your head, quietly, like a choir as your mind went through all the possible meanings behind the simple sentence. ''I hope she doesn't mind that I'm her brother's favorite,'' you finally spoke again, sounding far more off than you had expected, making Sunday turn to meet your gaze. He was smiling, a mixture of amusement and endearment on his face, ''She knew that it was bound to happen.'' ''Besides,'' he added, turning around to fully face you, ''I care about the two of you in very different ways. Robin is my sister, my family. And I love her the way you love your own blood.'' A heartbeat of silence. The world around you seemed to slow down, the ambiance noise as if muted while Sunday continued his speech, ''While my feelings for you and my sister aren't...that unalike, there is an important distinction. I feel familial love for Robin, while I feel something much deeper for you.'' The beating inside your chest made you think your heart was about to break out of your rib cage, and you didn't even realize that you had stopped breathing, unable to break eye contact as you stared at the man, straightening up while trying to process his words. Neither of you was saying anything right now. You were both just looking at each other, the atmosphere completely changed. Sunday seemed as if he was expecting an answer, but your mind was racing in overdrive, unable to form coherent thoughts. And, while Sunday was starting to grow slightly nervous given your...lack of response to his ''confession'', something inside you just- switched. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them, catching not just you, but also the man off-guard. ''May I kiss you?'' Another heartbeat of silence. Then, a soft chuckle, relief flooding Sunday's expression, ''You may.'' And you did, leaning forward, the nervousness terrorizing you as your lips met his in a soft, brief kiss before you pulled away again, your hands shaking slightly.

You were about to say something, comment on...everything that had been said and done today, but before you could come to word, Sunday cut you off with another kiss, this one longer, deeper, and as you stood there in the light of the early morning sun, you found yourself hoping the moment would never pass.

Sunday held you close after that, his forehead resting against yours as you just stood there, allowing the rays of sunlight to engulf you, the pale golden hue like a sign that you had made the right choice, that you had found the right one.

For the longest time, neither of you wanted to leave, lost in the other's embrace until Sunday slowly pulled away, a sigh escaping his lips, ''I fear I probably have to get back to work.''

''I- I know,'' you muttered, looking up at him, ''Just...a few more minutes? Is that alright? I just...I don't want you to leave yet.'' Your voice was quiet, almost fragile. You couldn't remember the last time you sounded this vulnerable.

And Sunday noticed, eyes widening momentarily before he began to smile, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up and place another brief kiss to your lips, ''Just a few more minutes, then I'll have to get back. But you're welcome to stay with me if you want.''

#sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday #sunday headcanons #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons

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lolokouhm · 1 year ago

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pt.2 is out!

"Could you rail me?"

That's not something Megumi expects to hear at 10 p.m. Especially coming from you.

You're drenched - that's the first thing he notices. It's been raining the whole day, pouring even, making early autumn weather even gloomier than it usually is. You don't have an umbrella and the light jacket you put on yourself earlier in the morning looks completely out of place - it doesn't even have a hood to hide under. Or maybe it's not the jacket that feels off? Maybe that's just you.

You, the one who is always prepared. You, the one who is always put together. You, the one who, as far as he's concerned, should be in the cinema on a date with your boyfriend right now. A dickhead boyfriend, Megumi makes a mental note. He couldn't bring himself to like the guy, but as long as that idiot treated you right, he wasn't really in a place to say anything. But apparently, something has changed.

"Could you rail me?"

Yeah, something has definitely changed.

Megumi doesn't really say anything as you get inside - your every movement is showing how furious you are, and it’s not like Fushiguro's not used to people with bad temper, it's just you're not one of them. He's never seen you like this before and, combining the situation with that question you’ve asked him twice, he's taken by surprise. That gets him thinking. Something must have happened, and judging by your face...

Then he notices. The smudged mascara, the barely visible traces on you cheeks, and your red, puffy, eyes.

You cried.

Megumi has seen you in various mental states, but never furious - and most importantly, never crying, so he couldn't possibly have any idea how seeing you like that would make him feel. He knows now.

He'll kill him.

"Come on, you need to take a hot shower, or you'll get sick", he finally says, his voice sounding surprisingly normal and calm. He's relieved - all these years of hiding his emotions and not letting them surface have at least some perks. Looking at your state, you need something - someone - to calm you down, and Megumi won’t let himself lose control just over his imagination and groundless jealousy. You need to tell him what happened first.

So when you’re finally out of the shower, your hair still damp, drowning in his cotton, black T-shirt, Megumi is waiting in the kitchen - and he needs you to speak.

„He cheated on me.” It falls from your lips, light as a feather, and these words do something to him. Something that could have very bad consequences. „We broke up. But it doesn’t even hurt. I… I am so fucking stupid.” You’re not crying anymore - there’s a fire in your eyes that Megumi has never seen before.

„He’s the one that’s stupid.” That is probably the nicest adjective out of many others he has on his mind right now. He observes you carefully as you adjust yourself on a high hocker next to him.

„No, I am. I…” You sigh, hiding your face in your hands. „I didn’t cry because he broke my heart. That’s the problem. He didn’t.” That’s a relief, but Megumi’s still not convinced. His brows furrow, as he’s trying to understand what exactly has happened. „I was crying because I don’t fucking understand myself.” Your gaze suddenly jumps on him and the intensity of it makes him gulp. „That’s why I want you to rail me.” Before he can form a coherent answer to that, you speak up again. „I think I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings. And that makes me a cheater, because I went into a relationship knowing that. Or at least suspecting that.”

So many things Megumi didn’t expect to hear tonight.

He just stares at you, not sure, whether his heart is racing or it’s completely stopped beating. You’re blushing, but at the same time doesn’t look embarrassed. Despite that cute pink tone on your cheeks, you seem determined, and he’s not sure what he should do about it.

„Or you can say you won’t”, you suddenly speak up again. The eye contact is so intensive, to the point it physically hurts. „You can say that and I’ll see if it breaks my heart. It’ll be easie-”

„I won’t rail you.” It jumps out of him faster than he’s able to process it, and his heart drops as your face turns pale.

„Okay. It hurts. So this is a crush after all.” You stand up suddenly and rush somewhere - his apartament isn’t big, but the embarrassment hits you like a truck and you just need to hide. Or die.

„How the fuck do you expect me to rail you?” Nervousness in Megumi’s voice makes you turn around. He’s got up from his seat as well, his worried expression long forgotten - now he just looks angry. „I’ve had sex like three times before. Fuck”, he sighs, pinching his nose bridge. As if that ever helped somebody to focus. He doesn’t have any other options though. „Jesus, (Y/N). You can’t just say these things like that. Why can’t you just like… say that you have a crush on me? At least I’d know how to answer”, Megumi murmurs and now you’re confused.

He cannot comprehend the fact that you haven’t noticed. Everyone noticed. Itadori, Nobara, Gojo - everyone. Even he himself noticed. The gradual changes in your friendship, the staring, the smiles that cost him way more than anyone else, and yet he would give you them for free. The jealousy that came few months ago - with you being asked out, taken on dates, kissed. The irritation. And eventually, the nights where he would be so hard and frustrated, and the only cure seemed to be a memory of you. Of your skin. Of your touch. He was sure when your name left his lips that one particular night - he let his imagination run freely, and it sprinted to the point where he imagined it was your hand going up and down on his dick. He panicked a bit, that night. Your friendship was more valuable than anything else. He couldn’t risk it.

So he endured.

And now this?

That’s not fair. You play dirty. You asked that fucking question three times and now he’s sexually frustrated and stressed beyond what’s humanly possible. He tried so hard, gritted his teeth, tossed and turned - and you just destroyed everything.

So when Megumi comes up to you to catch your face in his hands, you can feel his anger. And a million other things that convince you, that yes, Megumi Fushiguro could rail you without any doubt. He kisses you - and the kiss tastes like longing, like desperation, like something more, than just „liking”. Like…

„He was first”, he murmurs, as he pulls away, just millimetres, but enough to be able to say what he needs to say. His long, slender fingers rest on both sides of your face, the right thumb delicately brushing you cheek. A feeling completely different from that sudden kiss.

„What?” You feel a bit hazy and so does he.

„And you were always so happy… I just couldn’t…”, he mutters, running with his gaze when the embarrassment hits him. He curses himself for wearing that black sweater tonight, it’s so hot he cannot stand it - especially when your hands land on his covered chest.

„I was happy because I was with you, you dumbass!” You moan, and even though it’s not sexual at all, Megumi can’t help but groan. You are intoxicating. „I thought you didn’t like me… So I tried to…” You’re interrupted as he pulls you for another kiss, even more needy than the first one. And you suddenly forget what you wanted to say.

Megumi still remembers, but he needs you. If that’s a dream, then he just hopes he’s not going to wake up. Luckily for him, the way his body reacts is more biological than ever and that gives him some hope.

„You tried to…?”

„I tried to fall in love with someone else.”

„You’re stupid then.” His lips travel down your neck as he’s leaving slow, sensual kisses all over it. You grip tightens on his forearm, nails diving between the sweater’s weaves just to find his skin underneath. You had no idea Megumi could kiss like that, and when his fingers slide down your collarbone, you find out that you had no idea that he could touch you like that either. „If you talked to me, we’d save a lot of time.”

„You could have said something too”, you whisper, and the combination of stress, anxiety and bliss makes your legs go weak. Luckily, Megumi’s here, and his arm keeps you in place. „You never say anything. And I…” A little whine interrupted you as his teeth grazed over your paper thin skin. „I don’t know how you feel.”

„You really can’t see it?”

„I need you to say it. I can say it. I’m in love with you, Megumi”. Is it really your voice, or are the angels singing? He could swear he got the chills. „Please.”

Years of hiding. Years of not saying anything. Years of keeping his feelings hidden. All that, just for him to make a confession.

„I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” It’s shaky, it’s soft and it’s quiet, falling into your skin and melting into your soul - something you needed so desperately. And that’s enough.

You need to see him, so you cup his face into your hands, and the picture leaves you in awe - his soft cheeks are flushed, blue eyes shining with desire. It’s so unlike him, and the fact that you’ve actually managed to pull these words out of him shows how desperate he is.

„You can let go” you whisper, before pulling him for another kiss. „Don’t overthink it. Just… let go.”

Who knows - he might rail you after all.

masterlist ❤️

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #fushiguro #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi imagine #megumi headcanons #megumi drabble #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Practice

College Yan + Older Neighbor Reader [M + G.N]

Summary: A friend requests a favor from you after a rough night

Warning: Legal age gap, mentions of alcohol and drugs, emotional manipulation, groping

12 missed calls....

"..Hey, Y/n. Just realized you're probably still at work right now....l I just wanted to say thanks for everything. Without you - I don't think I'd be out here tonight.."

"Y/n - hey! Oh... just missed you I guess. I just arrived, and... honestly I'm really nervous. There's more people than I thought there'd be and I don't know anyone. You mind if I call again? Even if you don't answer - it's nice not being alone."

"Y/n... things are going pretty good so far. Someone just came up to me and handed me a cup. I've never drank before, but I have too many regrets already to have another. This goes out to you."

"Are you afraid of dying alone?.... it never crossed my mind until my grandad died a few years back. Nobody liked the guy so he just.... wasted away alone in his house. I don't want that to happen to me. I wish you were here."

"Y/n?.... fuck... please don't listen to that last message. Can you come pick me up? I sent the address to you earlier, but I forgot to tell you. I think I drank too much and I know it's late but... fuck."

"You're coming to pick me up...aren't you? You wouldn't leave me behind like everyone has... I'm so happy I-"

Message Saved.

You didn't need to hear the rest. Teddi was the sweetest guy you've met in recent years. A little rough around the edges, sure, but it's a given with everything he's been through. Once you cracked that shell, he revealed that dorky, loveable self of his who still cried when animals died in movies yet gushed for hours about his fascination with horror media as a whole. You thought you were doing the right thing by trying to get him out of his comfort zone - keep him from turning out like you.

Breathing through your teeth, you toss your phone into the passenger seat as you exit the vehicle. Beer glasses and someone's glasses left out in the field crunch beneath your feet as you cross the lawn up to the house and adjacent door. Poking your head through the crack; a sea of young adults and their peers overcrowd the living space - egging each other into boisterous acts and having the time of their new lives. Realistically you couldn't be a few years older than the older face in the crowd, but this wasn't your click. You walk up to the nearest, unattended person and tap them on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, looking for someone. Thick glasses, nose ring, blue...ish hair? Should've brought my phone out-"

"Oh!! You must be Ted's partner. Y/n - right?."

"We aren't dating. I'm their neighbor."

"My bad - he's just been talking about you all night so I thought - anyway, he's up on the roof. Said he needed the fresh air. Just head upstairs, the ladder to the attic should be right there.

"Alright. Thanks." You push past them and up the stairs - bracing your foot on the ladder rails that creek under your weight as you climb up into the attic. The room is foggy, musty fog filtered out the open door leading to the patio. You reject an offer for its source as politely as you could as you brush by the individuals occupying the space, pulling your shirt over your nose as you step out into the chilly night. Laying on a blanket made of someone else's coat, Teddi sits beneath the stars wearing the jacket you lent him about a week ago. He takes the blunt offered by a peer, breaking off its tip as he pulls it to his lips. You knock on the door frame twice - smoke violent exhausted from his nose and lungs as he turns around to see you.

"Y/n." Teddi staggers to his feet, legs tangled in his makeshift blanket as he trips and stumbles his way towards you. He sports a dopey grin, fixing your jacket to his shoulder. "Hey, we were just talking about you - this is.. uh.." He snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"Trudy."

"Trudy! Right, haha - they're great, but not as great as you."

"That's great." You wrap an arm around their shoulder, turning them towards the door. "We're leaving."

Teddi slurs out a whine, leaning back - trying to pull you with him. "What? But you just got here. I wanna introduce you to everyone first."

"Maybe later. I need to get you home." Your right hand finds the small of his back, locking around his waist. "Car - now."

His pink face flushes further. "Okay...."

Loading Teddi into the car, his head slumps against the passenger window as you shut the door. The ride home is mostly quiet - his hand glued to your lap no matter how many times you nudge him away. His head rolls over to your shoulder and the alcohol on his breath fans your face as he speaks.

"Do you think somebody will ever love me, Y/n?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I meant someone tonight."

He studies your face. No twinge of jealousy or sadness. You almost looked relieved. He swallows, buring the ache as he continues. "I meant someone and.... I know they're way out of my league. Kind....smart....when they smile it's like the whole room lights up. We hadn't known each other for long, but they've always been there and... I can't imagine life without them now that they're here. Despite our differences I know we are meant for each other."

You ease your foot off the gas. "....Ted. You're a good kid. If I had known a guy like you back when I was your age I would have loved to get to know him."

Teddi sits upright, looking down as he rubs his face. "Quit talking like you're so much older than me..."

"We're here."

Teddi glances outside. Always when he works up the courage to talk to you.. You park outside your house and round the car to help him get to his. Teddi clutches your arm as you face his yard.

"Please don't make me go home tonight, Y/n."

His nails dig into your shirt. "Please."

You sigh. Helping him up the driveway and into your home, you guide Teddi into your bedroom- afraid of what's happen if you give him the couch. Teddi relaxes as you cross the threshold into your living room. The familiarity of your home, just the two of you in this vast space - he wouldn't give it up for anything. The lingering stress melts from his face as you lower him into your bed, resting on the pillow you lay your head on every night. You set his glasses on the dresser and bring him a glass of water - wishing him good night as you turn off the lights. Hovering over the bed, he grabs your wrist as you turn to leave.

"Y/n..... please stay with me tonight."

He brings a hand up to your face, stroking your jaw as he pulls you closer. "Kiss me, Y/n."

".... how much did you drink, Teddi."

"Alot, but - I need you... to help me I mean. I've never kissed anyone before, and I need the practice if I'm ever going to tell them how I feel. You're the only person I can turn to for this. You promised that you would always be there for me."

You knew that would come back to haunt eventually. "Ted, when I said I'd help you with anything, I meant like teaching you how to do your taxes or change a tire. This isn't something we should be doing."

His cheek presses against your neck, fresh tears staining your skin. "We can forget about it in the morning.... They're all I have. You're all I have... Please don't leave me too."

"....show me."

"Huh?"

"How you would confess. Show me."

You sit on the edge of the bed. Teddi props back against the frame, tucking his hair behind one ear and fixing his shirt. He chews on his bottom lip - the moonlight reflecting off your skin basking you in that heavenly shine he always saw. He looks down. "I'm gonna use your name just to make it easier - okay?"

Teddi takes a deep breath. "Y/n - you... you're the most amazing person I've ever met. When I'm with you, it's like opening my eyes for the first time. You're someone I know I can trust through thick and thin... you've always been there for me, and I want to be here for you... forever."

He scoots closer, placing a hand on your lap as he cups your cheek - leaning in til his forehead rests against yours. "I like you...I love you. Please, stay with me."

Teddi slowly closes the distance; fingers restricted round your thigh as his lips fall flush against yours. It feels like a crime - your soft skin beneath his chapped, bitten lips. He presses deeper, engraving every each of you into his memory and being that his mind would allow. His tongue ghosts your lower lip, snaking against your teeth. His hand clasps the base of your neck as he adds his weight to your chest, pulling you up on the bed as he brings your hanging leg up to his side.

"y/n....."

He cards his fingers through at your hair - the taste of whiskey and desperation hot on your tongue as you wince from the abrupt tug at the back of your skull. The depth of your mouth is more indicating than any substance he had all night. His fingers sink into the flesh of your leg, working towards the curve of your ass as a moan vibrates through your teeth centered from throaty whine he makes as they close around his tongue. His lip ram yours as he tilts his head for a better angle with enough force to bruise, and by god he hopes it does. Biting down doesn't stop his tongue from barreling down your throat - ball piercing sucked to the roof of your mouth. He gives pause only when he finally accepts the stars dancing in view are from the lack of oxygen rather the magic of the eve- falling to your chest with a few links and kisses between greedy intakes of air and your scent. He giggles, hiccuping as his arms shoot around your waist.

"My first kiss...... I made sure to tear off the end when I smoked with that girl so I wouldn't lose it even indirectly. Was I your first too? Can you by my first in other ways too?"

You pull from under him as he nips at your shoulder. "You're not into Trudy?"

"Trudy?" The name rolls off his tongue with such disgust and confusion. "Heck no. The person I like is so much more special than her. I'm lucky to even be in their presence. I wanna give them the world. My heart. I love you.... them- so much."

You fall silent as he nuzzles his face against your torso, eyes growing heavy. "It's late, Teddi. Go to bed."

"Will you sleep with me?.... Stay with me until the morning?..."

".....Always."

Teddi cuddles up to your side as you join him in bed - fighting exhaustion to treasure your sleeping face beside him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere drabble #male yandere #Teddi my oc

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doyouknowbtsswag · 1 year ago

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Hiii, hruuuu i loved your chishiya fic and wanted to request a chishiya imagine/oneshot where he tries to fluster YOU but it backfires and he gets flustered and embarrased and shy (unnecessary detail but the reader is also rlly quiet and is good at manipulating and stuff like that)

Also, no rush, hope ur gonna write this and hope your doing well, eating,drinking and sleeping well, love youuu byeee<33

Playboy |Chishiya|

I am so sorry it’s been so long since this was requested hopefully you like it😭

The sound of loud party music and people messing around could be heard miles away. The people around me to hyper for their own good and the alcohol they were drinking wasn't helping. I awkwardly sat on one of the sun chairs annoyed at the current outfit I was wearing if it counts as one. The stupid bikini I had to wear that showed off almost everything on my body. I saw a guy coming over near the group of people in front of me ready to attack them with water. I quickly got up from the chair and wandered around to find somewhere water-free which was inside. I cringed walking past the bar filled with people drunk out of their minds and doing the most vulgar things that belonged in private. I walked faster through the halls not wanting to take the risk of bumping into Niragi. I internally gagged at the thought of him in general. I stayed by myself the whole time I've been in borderland not wanting to cling to someone and then lose them. I opted on going up to the roof knowing no one would party up there. The breeze countered the stuffy feeling downstairs. The smell of alcohol and smoke leaving my nose and having a fresh smell. I leaned against the railing looking out to the sea. I smiled thinking about what my life will be like after Borderland and I don't intend on dying anytime soon.

I play the game as if it was Chess. I collect my allies as if they're my pawns once I don't need them I knock them off the board. The day I ended up here was bittersweet. I need a reliable pawn so I can make my way up to one day get rid of the people in my way to beat the game and one of the people who are in my way so far is that bastard Niragi and the militants who are nothing but assholes. Once that happens I'll get them in my clutch and knock them off my board and make sure they shatter. I groaned in annoyance hearing the door open thinking two people were up here to hook up.

"I didn't see you come up here," a girl said as I glanced over my shoulder.

"I've been up here" I shrugged in an unbothered tone. "It's a nice spot" I turned around to see who it was.

"I can't blame you," the familiar face said. I've seen her multiple times and played a game or two with her.

Perfect pawn

"What's your name again? We've played quite a few games together It's funny we've never exchanged names" I gave a fake smile.

"Kuina"

"Oh, I've never seen him before," I said casually nodding to the mysterious guy.

"Chishiya," He said giving an unbothered grin.

Another pawn

"Nice to meet you," I said a little pissed at his perfect grin that matched his face perfectly.

I walked a bit closer so I wasn't so far from the pair but I stood at a comfortable distance from them. However, the blonde seemed amused by the interaction.

"So what brings you up here?" I asked watching and listening to them carefully.

"Why should we tell you?" Chishiya said with his hands in his pockets.

He's confident

"Just wondering since I'm planning on staying up here" I crossed my arms.

"You will eventually so don't worry about it"

Stop with the smug smile

"Maybe I will or maybe I won't" I shrugged.

"So Y/n how've you been?" Kuina asked derailing the topic.

"I've been fine just hanging around" I shrugged. "Not much to do"

"Your right about that"

"Not much of a party girl huh?" The blonde piped in as if he wanted to piss me off.

"Not really I'm not interested in getting wasted when I have to play games to survive wouldn't be smart would it?"

"Your right about that" He moved his head to the side chuckling. "You just look like a party girl"

"Oh really?" I uncrossed my arms. "How so?"

"Your swimsuit and the way you have your hair"

Is he trying to flirt with me or catch me off guard?

"So we're going by looks"

"Maybe," He said confidently.

I walked closer to him till we were shoulder to shoulder.

"Then I guess you look like a playboy" I whispered in his ear. "Thanks for the compliment earlier by the way”

I didn't have to look at his face to see his cheeks tinted red. The way his body tensed up told me I won the silent confidence battle.

"I'll leave you two to talk about whatever you need to talk about" I walked to the roof door to get back down. I waved goodbye seeing Kuina's confused look and Chishiya's mouth wide open. "Oh and don't die" I winked and grinned walking downstairs.

#jdrama #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya fanfic #chishiya imagine #chishiya alice in borderland #aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x you #aib x reader #aib fanfic #aib x y/n #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya fluff #shuntaro chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 10 months ago

Note

HIII I want to say i love your OCs and your writing that i binge reading them everytime 🥰, especially i love your Yandere Jock story cause I weak for sweet himbo man but actually scary, lol.

If you don't mind , can i ask for a scenario where Damon is playing for tournament, but his team losing by a lot now cause Damon not feeling great at that time, so his coach have to use their ultimate card, bring Y/n here to cheer. Therefore, in middle break, the coach had to snatch Y/n from library, using their authority as PE teacher that Y/n has to follow. Damon shock at seeing Y/N in the tournament , even sitting at the team seat. He asked why is she here,

Y/n grumpy said "I got brought here because you stupid playing today, why are you suddenly so bad?? I thought you were the best player in this school!!!. Fine!! If you don't even win this tournament, then no point in giving you a kiss" . Damon heart stopped at that sentence. Y/n promise him a kiss if he win this??? Afterward, he went back to the tournament feeling full energy and totally annihilated the rival team. After tournament end, with everyone gone wash up and went to party to celebrate the win, only Damon and Y/n in the shower room, hungrily kissing Y/n and make out 🫣

Unbeknownst to everyone, the reason Damon was not in the mood to play was because Y/n rejected his invite to his tournament to focus on her exam lmao

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader everyday tidbits: encouragement

"What the hell, Damon?!" One of Damon's teammates screamed at him, exasperated by this usually amazing jock turn into this... Dunce.

"Come on, Damon. What's happening with ya?" One teammate also whispered, patting him on his shoulder. "We need your head in the game here, man. You're our MVP, please, don't be like this."

Damon only frowned, annoyed and sluggish. He really wants to lash out, but he knows he can't due to being this nice guy, so he gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry..." He whispered, trying to get into the zone, but nothing.

The coach noticed this and frowned.

"What's happening to the guy?" The coach asked the member who got benched earlier.

"Dunno. He seems distracted coach." The guy muttered, looking around the bleachers. "Huh... Maybe the reason is that y/n is not here?"

The coach looked at the usual spot you would sit on. And he's right, you weren't there at all.

"... Are you thinking what i'm thinking?" The coach whispered, and the other members nodded.

"You, you watch the game. I gotta go fetch someone." The coach pointed at his assistant before running towards the library, hoping you're there.

He bursted open, earning quite a handful of jumps and yelps, and earning the ire of the librarian and staff.

"The basketball coach? What are you--" The librarian was about to nag when he waved him off.

"No time, I gotta find a student."

Then, he found you, just reading a book that you were too busy with to notice him.

"You, come with me." He said, getting up to your face and frightening you to nodding.

You got dragged to the court and paused when you saw the scores.

"What the hell..?" You whispered under your breath, before narrowing your eyes when you saw Damon looking so off his game.

Pursing your lips, you got to your usual seat and leaned on the railing.

"Oi! You damn dingus!" You yelled, making the whole stadium look at you. The referee was about to charge but the coach made him stop. "What's with this pathetic display? What happened to your skills? Gone? Fine! If you don't do good... No kisses!"

The whole stadium bursts in awe, squeals and blushes of bashfulness.

But Damon was the only one you're looking at, and you watched his face go from bewildered to horror.

"No! I want my kisses!" He yelled, suddenly getting energized and making a mad dash towards the hoop and dunking, earning a three points.

The stadium cheered, making you calm down as his a-game rose.

"Finally..." You grumbled, annoyed but felt good that he got energized when you got here.

Sure, you were also the reason why he's distracted. You did say you won't be attending the game since you're busy with studying...

But come on, he's been thriving before you...

You watched him suddenly getting shot after shot, and hiding from the University journalists trying to cop a pic from you.

After the whole thing, Damon completely annihilated the whole rival team. Looking scary as steam emitted from his body due to his body temperature and the stadium temperature difference.

You sighed in relief before finally going down and back to the library.

Surely, he would go celebrate his victory with his teammate right?

You walked moderately, and when you passed by their locker room, you suddenly got pulled in.

The door locked.

"So, where's my reward?" Damon, freshly showered, caged you between his arms before capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

Yeah, he's hungry. But not for food, that's for sure.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

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itmeansiris · 3 months ago

Text

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Shopping Spree Gen 1 pt.80

When the group of women and Dite left to go shopping Kiersten and M joked the whole trip about going to the Brindelton Bridal shop to find bridesmaid dresses and fit Winter for a wedding dress. Winter protested the whole way. She'd even threatened to seal their feet to the ground with magic if they so much as set foot in the store.

Instead, they headed for the Halloween store to find costumes for the Spooky Day party. Inside, Winter and M immediately started trying on outfit's. Kiersten walked around with Dite looking but not trying anything on as M and Winter posed in front of the shop's many mirrors.

Winter: Check it out. I'm an angel.

M laughed wrapping her arms around Winter's shoulder.

M: You might be growing an angel but you sure as hell aren't one. Nice touch with the white wings, when did you learn to do that?

Winter: A trick I learned while training Adrianne on wing control.

Dite raced over hardly able to contain her excitement.

Aphrodite: Mom I think Kiersten found the perfect costumes for you guys. Hurry, Come see!

M and Winter changed out of their ridiculous costumes and headed over to the mannequins where Kiersten and Aphrodite were waiting. When they got closer M realized what they were looking at and Winter gasped.

Winter: I knew we were going to be good friends.

M: Wait. There are only 5. What about you and Rufus?

Kiersten looked at her a little sheepishly.

Kiersten: Rufus and I already have our costumes. Sorry M, we've been planning them since we got our invite in the mail.

M: It's okay. Me, Kason, Winter, Peyton. We need someone to wear the last one.

Winter: I have someone in mind.

With the costume debacle settled, they yanked the costumes from the rack and quickly checked out. Having fulfilled their immediate shopping needs Kiersten headed home. She'd gotten a text from Rufus and the boys but promised to come over to M's tomorrow to hang out again. Her and Winter shared a hug before she took off.

The rest of the group wandered the mall for a while. Winter eventually veered off, stopping in a maternity store while M and Aphrodite took a couple of graceless laps around the indoor ice-skating rank.

M eventually bowed out having spotted Winter at one of the café tables. Not wanting to risk further injury, on shaky legs, she half walked, half skated towards the exit hugging the rails closely. Aphrodite, ever the perfectionist, was determined to master the ice so she stayed a little longer.

M: Sweetie, I'll be over at the table with Auntie Winter. When you're ready we can head to the equine store.

Mercury joined Winter at the small table, the café was void of other patrons, likely due to the light snowfall that had begun outside. Winter was fiddling with a small grey box that had a clear screen and something floating inside.

M: What is that thing?

Winter: Stupid physic box they gave me with my purchase at the maturity store. Seems like a pretty useless thing to give to an expecting mother.

M: Or a spellcaster for that matter.

Winter tucked the toy away in one of her shopping bags and turned her attention back to M. The café started to fill up around them and a waiter approached.

Waiter: Hello ladies. Can I get you anything?

They politely declined. The waiter smiled and moved on to the next table greeting them with the same warm tone and bright smile to match her floral attire.

M: So are you gonna tell me when you found out you were having baby number four was it?

Winter groaned resting her head in her hand, yet she was smiling.

Winter: When you say it like that it sounds sorta crazy. We knew since your dads funeral. I was kind of suspicious, my magic was starting to stir without good reason.

M: How did Peyton take the news? I never imagined him a father of four though I guess I never imagined you with four kids either

Winter: He took it as well as the other three times honestly. He hardly blinked an eye. He just smiled and went on like it was a normal day.

M: He's grown up so much in the last 10 years. It's amazing to see who he's become.

Winter: Look at you all smiley and happy. You would never believe there was a demon terrorizing your life.

Mercury's smile didn't fade. She sat forward, arms resting on the table, and stared at them with a hint of sadness.

M: I'm just happy to see you is all. It's been far too long, I need to make it my business to come and see you more. Now that Zoh's a toddler he can handle the ride to San Myshuno.

Winter: Newcrest.

She corrected. M shook her head and huffed.

M: Right, Newcrest. It's so strange, you guys not living in the city.

Winter: It was weird at first but the kids love it and it's a better space for them to practice their magic freely without someone getting hurt or something getting broken.

M saw Aphrodite approaching, so she stood.

M: Well San Myshuno or Newcrest I'm coming to see you.

Winter stood and hugged her friend.

Winter: Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm not saying don't come but cut yourself some slack. You've been where I'm headed and traveling with 4 small kids would have been a disaster. It made since for us to travel to you. I love you Mercury.

M: Come on. I promised Dite we would go to High Horse Fashion.

Winter: Violionist and a horse wrangler. I wonder where she got that from? Spirit maybe?

M chucked and shrugged her shoulders as they headed for the door.

M: I have no clue.

Aphrodite pushed the large barn-like doors open and darted inside ahead of her mother and aunt. She ran over to the far wall staring at all the equipment lining the shelves.

M: Dite don't run in the store, please.

Winter: I'll look over here.

M stood behind her daughter when she broached an interesting question

Aphrodite: Hey mom do you think I can start getting an allowance?

M: I don't see why not. Any particular reason you're asking now?

Aphrodite pointed up at a coat hanging high on the wall.

Aphrodite: I want to buy that coat.

M smiled ever surprised by how Dite displayed her growing maturity.

M: Absolutely kiddo. Now I think we should find your riding clothes.

Instead of heading home after they finished their shopping spree, Winter suggested they hit the bowling lanes not ready to end the day. When they arrived Dite went upstairs to the kid's arcade where she would likely play Don't Wake the Llama as opposed to an actual arcade game. Winter and M checked in at the desk retrieving the overly used standard red and blue blowing shoes but never put them on. They sat by their assigned lane never bowling a single round, They sat talked losing track of time until Aphrodite complained she was ready to go home.

Winter spent the night with M. Kason always the gentlemen, offered up his place in bed and agreed to sleep downstairs on the sofa for the night. Winter tucked in that night thrilled at the time they spent with her closest friend but slightly relieved that she would be reunited with her husband and children in a few hours.

Previous Next

Beginning

Builds

Gallery ID: Abaybay514 High Horse Fashion is a retail 30x20 lot

Gallery ID: Mandykay77 Halloween Costume Shop is a retail 40x30 lot

Gallery ID: keongemini1 Brindelton Bay Mall is a retail 64x64 lot

Poses

@ratboysims sitting emotions & Parent and kid poses

@simcredibledesigns shopping bags

@plazasims Halloween set

Mods

@littlemssam Allowance Mod

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 story #solar system legacy challenge #itmeansiris #gen 1

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ryusuisloveinterest · 3 months ago

Text

My contribution to Night Kids November

hi guys! I heard it’s night kids November so here I am with some headcanons! I hope you like it!

Night Kids x Reader Headcanons🩷

Takeshi Nakazato

One day you saw a black r32 outside of the coffee shop you were going to

Of course being the big car geek you are you start taking pictures and admiring it until you hear a voice

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You quickly stand up and see none other than Nakazato himself

“I’m so sorry! Is this your car? It just seemed so cool I wanted a couple of photos to show my friends… I can delete them if you want….”

You look back at the man to see his face being a bright red color

“I-it’s fine! Just wasn’t expecting someone as good looking as yourself to- I mean-!”

He’s still a nervous wreck lol

You’ve been dating for months since then but he still finds himself stuttering and blushing at the littlest things you do

I’m sure Nakazato has some kind of money cause dude has a whole r32 so I’m sure he’d spend the rest on you

I just read he possibly does something with pharmaceuticals so he definitely gonna spend that money on you. Buying you jewelry, the plushie you looked at through the window, and definitely a nice expensive dinner

Gets so excited when you come to his races

The first time he saw you in the crowd he freaked out

He was happy you were there, but he was scared of all the weird guys that hung around too

So from then on he just took you with him to wherever he went

If you really don’t wanna be part of the race or you don’t like actually racing then he trusts his team enough to let you stay with them

But if you’re in the car with him while he races he’s gonna wanna show off so much in front of you

But at the same time he’s so scared he’s gonna big a guard rail too

It’s just best if you stay with his team, but he’ll drive for you once the race is over!

He’s such a gentleman

Doors always opened for you, feet rubs, cuddles, you name it and he’s doing it

His favorite thing to do with you is crafts with you

Like HE personally doesn’t like doing it, but he loves it when you finish making him a bracelet or a painting and comparing it with his

His definitely isn’t the Best but your smile makes it worth it

Shingo Shoji

This boy💀

Where as I can see Nakazato with a a partner who doesn’t race or doesn’t like racing, Shingo has to have someone who at the bare minimum likes cars

He probably saw you racing one night, and just as you passed by him he saw your face

He needed to get your number!

He asked everyone if they’d see this car

It wasn’t until he asked Sayuki when he found out who you were

“A red NSX? Oh that’s y/n! Me and Mako drive with them sometimes. What about it?”

He begged her to give him your number or set you up on a date

Once you guys finally did meet you guys clicked right away

The both of you do weird couple things 100% and have no shame

You’ll get up to grab you and him something and he’ll just smack your butt and be like, “thanks babe” like nothing happened

A few hours later and you do the same back to him, “it’s payback” you say

The rest of the night you’re chasing each other around smacking each others butts giggling and laughing at each other

Shingo doesn’t really give gifts, however he loves to do random things with you

The both of you will look up random things to do around Miyogi or wherever else you guys feel like going

Or you both will try new things together like cooking, walking around looking for rocks, or even playing basketball, etc.

He’d love to see you at his races

If you were part of a team or races against others too he’d definitely show up to show his support, using every opportunity to say, “yeah she’s my babe,” or, “I bet you wish she was yours huh? Too bad, I guess you’re just gonna have to keep looking from afar.”

If you know how to gum tape then I don’t think he’d mind too much for you to go against him, but he would still prefer not to

If you don’t have a clue about it then he doesn’t wanna risk you getting hurt

His favorite thing to do with you is late late drives

He likes when your in his passenger seat, he likes when he’s in yours

He likes when your racing with each other

At the end of the day as long as he’s with you he’s satisfied

#initial d #takeshi nakazato #takeshi nakazato x reader #shingo shoji #shingo shoji x reader #takeshi nakazato headcanons #shingo shoji headcanons

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talkfastromance4 · 2 years ago

Text

Extra sweetened Sugar—Jake Seresin (An Arrangement series oneshot)

author's note: just a lil oneshot

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 2.5k

warnings: consumption of alcohol

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

You’re usually pretty good about handling your alcohol, you don’t mix and you can tell when your cut off limit should be but with everything going on with Betty and the new ‘relationship’ with Jake, you exceeded your limits. Normally, you don’t go out with your employees, Serena, Dom and Brynne but after a rough week of late deliveries, an extended stay on Betty’s part and eating dinner alone at Jake’s, you needed a night out.

They took you to the best known dive bar that served cheap rail drinks and the best cheese fries you’d ever tasted. After your second strawberry daiquiri, you were spilling about Jake’s arrangement and they listened with open ears and wide eyes.

“I say sign it, girl,” Brynne says placing her decorative umbrella in her hair. “He’s hot, he’s attentive, and he’s loaded.”

“I agree,” Dom says, “if you feel guilty using it for yourself, then keep using it for Betty. I bet the sex is great with him.”

“We haven’t had sex!” you nearly choke on your cherry that was placed in your bright red drink.

“Are you crazy? Girl, he wants you so bad,” Brynne shakes her head.

“C’mon guys, you know how y/n is,” Serena pats your back, “she’s thinking of all angles. You have to admit, it does all seem too good to be true.”

“What do you mean?” Dom asks.

“I don’t get why it’s me, he could have someone way better looking and–”

Dom clapped his hand over your mouth, his eyes stern and shaking his head.

“No, you’re cute and adorable and sexy and he’s right to have chosen you. You’re the cream of the crop, the diamond in the rough, the–”

“I think she gets it,” Brynne removes his hand from your mouth. “But Dom’s right. Jake’s probably caught in his feelings and this arrangement guidelines crap, he’s not sure what to do. But he wants you, that’s for sure.”

“But how do you know?” you stress and slap your hand on the high-top table for added emphasis.

“It’s in his eyes,” Serena answers, sipping at her apple martini carefully. “He looks at you like he’s never seen daylight or has experienced a sunset for the first time.”

“Impossible,” you shake your head.

“No, it’s true, babes,” Dom says. “He’ll confess his love to you soon, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t want to get too into my feelings about this,” you wave your hands as if the conversation of Jake would disappear like an etch-a-sketch. “Let’s drink because the work week is done.”

“Hear, hear!” Dom clinks his glass with yours.

But the more you drink the more Jake keeps coming into your mind. The more you drink the more you think of his green eyes and back to what he meant about pleasuring you in your flower shop. What did that mean? Were you that seducible? Could you succumb so easily to his advances?

While your three friends were at the bar getting more drinks and shots, you found yourself scrolling through Jake’s social media profiles. It really was unbelievable how attractive he was and the fact that he was somewhat yours? You knew if you texted him you needed money for drinks he would transfer some over instantly.

Everyone else thought it was a good idea but it was your good conscience that kept interrupting. Was that a bad thing or a good thing? Peering over your third daiquiri of the night that your friends were still busy, you thought it was a good idea to call him.

It rang and rang and rang then went to his voicemail so you left a message.

“Hello, it’s me,” you sigh, “I’m out at Crazy Pete’s or Pete’s Crazy Saloon or something like that with Brynne, Dom and Serena and they think I should sign the arrangement. They think you’re hot. And it will help Betty. Your money not your hotness. Anywho, I’m a liiiitle tipsy and these daiquiris are very yummy. I don’t know where Reynolds is but I’ll get home. I do think you’re cute by the way so don’t think I don’t, okay?”

And for good measure, you went to Snapchat, chose a filter that placed pretty purple butterflies on your cheeks and took a dozen selfies before sending them to him via text message. It made you feel giddy inside because you were wearing one of his outfits he bought for you.

By that time, everyone else came back and you took a lemon drop shot, making sure to lick up the sugar on the lemon thinking how you’d want to kiss Jake with sugar on your lips.

The night went on and when you came out of the bathroom for the third time, someone else was standing at the table with your friends. When you came closer, you caught a whiff of the familiar scent of Jake’s cologne and when he turned around, it was Jake.

“Jake! What are you doing here?” you squeak but lean into him nonetheless.

“I got your voicemail and adorable selfies so I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay,” he wraps an arm around your shoulders making sure you don’t fall over. “You didn’t respond to my texts at all, Sugar.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout, “I was having fun.”

“I know,” he caresses your pout away, “have all the fun you want, I’m not stopping you. Just want to make sure you get home safe since Reynolds isn’t here.”

“Reynolds is a babe,” Dom points his finger at Jake. “Is he single?”

“I’m pretty sure he is, yeah,” Jake smiles, “want me to put in a good word for you?”

“Shut up! Yes, please!” Dom nods his head enthusiastically.

“Aw, you two would make a lovely couple!” you gush leaning over the table to cup Dom’s cheeks together. “You have such a handsome face and he has a cute one. He could drive you everywhere.”

“That’s his job for you, Sugar,” Jake murmurs in your ear. His voice tickles your lobe and it makes you giggle, pulling away from Dom.

“When he’s not with me,” you turn your neck to him, it causes your noses to touch. “I’m usually with you, right? So they can go out when we’re out.”

“I like that idea,” he smiles. His arm drops around your waist. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

“Pizza!” you and the rest shout in excitement.

“I’ll be right back,” he gives you a chaste kiss to the temple, sets you on the seat and then heads towards the bar.

“Girl,” Dom squeals grabbing your wrist. “Please, sign the papers, take him to bed, marry him, I don’t care. He’s a keeper.”

You turn around in your seat, teetering a little from the off kilter chair legs to watch him converse with the bartender. You know he’s smiling and being his charming self and it warms your heart, he really is wonderful and you decide to let him know when he comes back.

“Pizza’s on the way and I brought over some water,” Jake announces upon his return. Before he can set the pitcher down, you throw your arms around him. “Woah! Careful, darlin’.”

“Thank you for coming here and ordering pizza when you didn’t have to,” you murmur in his shoulder/neck.

“You’re welcome, Sugar. Wanted to see you, you’ve been comin’ home late,” he kisses the top of your head. Butterflies form in your stomach.

“We try telling her to to go home at a reasonable hour,” Serena interjects, “but she doesn’t listen.”

“Yeah, order her to go home on time, Lieutenant,” Dom smirks.

You stick your tongue out at Dom which he responds with a kiss in the air in your direction.

“I’m not in the air force so that won’t work,” you huff.

“And I like her feistiness,” Jake squeezes your waist.

He’s a good sport for the rest of the evening, taking care of you by making sure you’re drinking enough water and keeps guard outside the bathroom door while you use it. It’s when you hobble on your feet that he decides it’s time to go home. To your surprise and true to his word, he calls Reynolds up to take your friends home, Dom fixes his shirt and hair in preparation.

“You take care of our girl, okay?” Brynne says over your head as she hugs you.

“With my life,” Jake vows. “You three get on home, safe, now. I’ll make sure you’re over for brunch and a pool day soon.”

“Wow, you’re the whole package,” Serena says.

“Serena!” you gasp but Jake just laughs.

“I’m working on this one to see that,” he pinches your cheek affectionately. “Ready, Sugar?”

“Yeah,” you sigh heavily, “my feet hurt.”

“They do?” he frowns and secures your cross body bag over his own before lifting you up into his arms. “We can’t have your feet hurtin’.”

“What are you doing?!” you shriek clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. The sudden movement from standing to being held threw your inebriated self off.

“Carrying you,” he replies smugly and starts walking to his truck.

“My feet aren’t broken.”

“But they hurt, so I’m helping. And when I help you, what are you supposed to say?”

You mumble in response.

“What? I didn’t catch that?” he drops his head lower so his ear is closer to your mouth.

“Thank you!” you nearly shout then giggle when he dramatically pulls away.

While he carries you it gives you an opportunity to stare at him. He’s got a bit of beard growth going on and you barely think once before pressing your palm to his chin and cheek.

“Is it illegal to have a beard in the Air Force?”

“Not illegal, no,” he grins, “we just have to be clean-shaven. It’s not fun when you’re sweatin’ in the cockpit with a beard. I don’t know how Rooster does it with his ‘stache.”

“Rooster?” you laugh. “Who’s that?”

“My wingman, he has a 70’s porno stache and I don’t know how he can work with that thing over his lip,” Jake shakes his head.

“His name is really Rooster?”

“No, sweet girl, that’s his call sign. We all have them, so we know who’s who in the air and the enemy doesn’t really know who we are.”

“Oh,” you continue to stroke your fingers over his cheek and jaw. “What’s your callsign?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because when I do and I tell you the meaning, you’ll stop touching me like you are,” he glances at you.

“Well, I know it’s not the devil or satan so how bad could it be? Please tell me, I want to know.”

His eyes move to yours again and he sighs.

“Fine. They call me Hangman because in my earlier days of flight school and training, I always left my teammates in the dust so I could show I was the best.”

“Hangman…Hangman…” you let it sink into your muddled brain then shake your head. “That’s not how you are at all. Can’t we change it?”

“Nah, sweetheart, that’s my callsign until I retire. What would you change it to?”

“Hmm,” you hum tracing your finger under his chin, his jaw, then to the shape of his ear closest to you. “Wizard.”

“Wizard? Why that one?” he laughs.

“Because, your eyes are emerald green and it makes me think of the Wizard of Oz. He helped Dorothy home and you make me feel like I’m home.”

“I do?” he glances at you again, his arms tightening around you.

“Yeah. I’m working on showing you that more. I do appreciate all that you do for me, Jake, I’m still getting used to it all.”

“That’s okay, I’ll keep doing it until you feel comfortable, Sugar.”

“Would that be my callsign? Sugar?” you perk up at the nickname.

“Yeah, I think so, ‘cause there’s no one sweeter than you.”

“No, you’re pretty sweet, too, Jake,” you rest your head on his shoulder. The walk to his truck is very long but you’re okay being in his arms a little longer. “Who takes care of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you take care of me…and Betty and…the other women you’ve been with…who takes care of you?”

“No one, really,” he shakes his head and you frown.

You shift your cheek higher up on his shoulder and hold onto his cheek so you can angle his face towards yours, his gait slows down so he can look at you. His whole demeanor has softened and he’s staring at you in a way you’ve never been looked at before. Was Dom right? Does Jake always look at you like this?

“Can I take care of you?” you ask quietly and he stops walking. You’re standing under the orange streetlights, the color of his eyes have darkened but they’re still your favorite shade.

“How would you do that?”

“Well…I can’t pay for everything but I can listen about your work day, your thoughts…dreams you’ve had and we can watch your favorite shows. I’ll learn how to make your favorite foods if you’d like. And I can…” you bite your lip suddenly embarrassed.

“You can what?”

“Help you fall asleep so you don’t have circles anymore,” you touch beneath his eye at the darkened bloom of his skin.

“How’d you do that?” he smiles into your palm, nuzzling into your touch.

“Well, you say you’re good at massages…I’m good at playing with hair and humming people to sleep.”

“Yeah? Can I test that theory tonight?”

“Sure, whose bed is comfier? Mine or yours?”

“They both have the same mattress, Sugar,” he smiles then starts walking again but you hear the click of his truck door opening. He sets you in the seat, hands buckling you in and he closes the door moving to his side before you can respond.

You rest against the headrest, staring at him as he sits in his spot and starts the truck.

“Can I try your bed?” you reach over holding onto his forearm. His eyes meet yours, flickering to your hand on his arm then back again.

“You have no idea what those words do to me,” he sighs, “but yes, we can sleep in my bed tonight. If that’s what you want when we get home.”

You smile then start chattering about the evening before he arrived. As soon as he pulled onto the highway, however, you fell fast asleep, your hand still poised on his forearm. As much as he wanted to bring you into his own bed, he just couldn’t do it with you fast asleep like that so he made sure your shoes were off and that your pajamas were laid out on the bench at the end of your bed.

“G’night, Sugar,” he kisses your forehead then retreats to his room alone. He hopes he’ll know what it’s like to sleep next to you soon.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #an arrangement series #an arrangement #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader fluff #hangman x reader fluff #jake hangman seresin #top gun fics #top gun writing

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syd-vixious · 1 year ago

Note

you mentioned a while back making a yandere! atlas.. yes !!! i love the first 2 games so much and just watched a burial at sea atlas moments video.. hcs or oneshot, just any content with him would be so so cool! maybe the reader is similiar to jack's/elizabeth's position, someone hes supposed to guide but then gets a little too attached to

A/n: Hi anon! Thank you for the request and sorry it took so long! My life has been really hectic and all over the place recently. But I'll do my best to fulfill your request to the best of my ability! 🫡

P.S. I'm gonna try to make this as gender neutral as I can but it might lean more towards afab!reader due to some of the lines Atlas says to Elizabeth in the dlc. (It's been a minute so sorry if any of this feels rushed or incomplete)

Finders Keepers

You quickly entered the elevator, barely managing to escape the splicers and big daddies that seemed to be around every corner. Despite the predicament you were in, and how many wounds you didn't have enough medical supplies to patch up, you still made it to some kind of safety.

"I can't help Sally if I'm just like everyone else down here," you sighed, "I can't even get back to where I was.."

You leaned against the railing, exhausted to no end as you felt the elevator move to its destination. You groaned internally as you heard the crackle and scratch of the walkie on your hip awakening.

It was that bastard, Atlas.

"If you don't mind me askin', love: why you talkin' to nobody? If I had pegged you for a loon, I might've had second thoughts on our 'arrangement.'" He spoke with a tone that had you gritting your teeth.

You scoffed, "I'll hold up my end. But I better find the girl the way I left her."

"You're in no position to make demands. But I must confess, I do like a bit o' sass in a lass."

You rolled your eyes as you could hear the smirk on his face. Groaning in annoyance, you reloaded your revolver and crossbow. You have to be prepared for anything in this sick and twisted society.

You stepped out of the elevator, thinking you’d be prepared for anything until a pissed off Big Daddy came charging in your direction, not seeing much of a difference between you and some of the splicers that dwelled down here.

You began to run, trying to put as many obstacles between you and the giant creature as possible. You were successful for a while until you were trapped in an old bar, a couple buzzed up splicers clinging to the ceiling with their rusty hooks.

For a moment, you thought you might’ve lost the big guy, until a loud groan and a hard hit to the middle of your back sent you flying into the shelves of liquor. Glass shattered against your skin as they began to sink in and the world became darker around you…

*Time skip to two weeks later*

It felt like your head was buzzing. Your brain pounding in your skull as if it was being asked to be let out. Your body felt sore, the world around you slowly fading into existence as you slowly regained consciousness.

"Folks say it's only a matter of time until Atlas's entire mob comes out waving the white flag..." The announcer on the radio in front of you said before fading out into static.

You groaned from the sharp sound, brows pinching together from the pain in your head. You went to raise your hand to hold your head only to realise you were tied down on a chair.

Once your vision became clear, you could see the shadow of a man smoking a cigarette in front of you, a Rapture building crumbling to pieces just outside the window.

"Two weeks.." said the man.

"Huh.. w-what..?" You grunted.

"You've been down two weeks, love. Feckin' doctors, better off hiring monkeys if they're gonna harm what's mine in the same way." It took a moment before you realised Atlas stood in front of you.

You groaned, glaring at the back of the man's skull, "Our deal was to get you out of prison. What did you expect? To win your little civil war for you too?"

He chuckled, throwing his cigarette onto the ground, not needing to stomp on it due to the water leaking through the cracks in the ceiling.

"No, no, no," he turned around, slowly walking into the standing light that was shining in your face the whole time, "You see, that was the plan at first. To have you find my Ace in the Hole and bring Ryan down alongside the other pricks that dwell down here."

He slowly stalked towards you, resembling a hungry lion hunting its gazelle. "However, things change and unfortunately," he slammed his hands onto the arm rests your wrists were still tied to, causing you to jump in your seat, "you ain’t got a choice in the matter."

He stood up straight, circling you with a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite make out. "So now, lass, you belong to me."

You couldn't tell if the bumps on your skin were from the cold air or his words.

"Wait, what? The hell are you talking about? We had a fucking deal, Atlas!" You grunted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

He placed one hand on your thigh the other on your chin, his cigarette and alcohol-laced breath fanning your face, "I need you to get something through your pretty skull of yours, love. You will listen to me, you only belong to me. And if you don’t follow those simple, little rules…”

He takes a step back, grabbing one of the lobotomy tools on the table, “…I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

#atlas x reader #atlas bioshock #syd's requests!#requests open #x reader #bioshock x reader #yandere x reader

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teaberrii · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4: Shall We Date...?

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“...My ex-wife.”

You sit up for what feels like the tenth time that night. It has been hours since you and Jing Yuan parted ways, but you still can’t get that out of your head. You’d wanted to ask, but was that too personal? Regardless, you didn’t get a chance as Yanqing and Pom had woken up.

Now, you're left with a million questions. But, this means Jing Yuan isn't gay. Or, maybe he’s pan, bi, or—

You sigh loudly and fall back onto the bed. Does his ex-wife still work at Star Rails Hotel? Who is she? A manager? Or, just another regular employee like you? How long were they together? What happened—

You sit up. This is getting out of hand. Your eyes are dying to rest, but your mind’s running laps. You get out of bed and slip on a thin jacket over your PJs. Then, off you go to get some much-needed fresh air.

The air is crisp and chilly, calming your mind in ways that lying in bed can never accomplish. Eventually, you come across a pool where the dim glow of the lights inside the water makes it look almost ethereal. You’re walking along the side of the pool when you hear a woman’s voice.

“Can’t sleep either?” You look towards the white beach chairs just as March lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head. She’s looking at you with a small smile. ��Join the club.”

“What’s with the sunglasses?” you ask in amusement, coming up to take the empty chair beside her. “Not judging, just wondering.”

“I was hoping it’d help me get some sleep, but then someone showed up out of the blue.” March sits up, her thin, airy blazer moving to the side. She says she’s here to get some sleep, but with her crop top and shorts, you think she's ready for a swim. “What’s keeping you awake, Femme Fatale? Is it a guy, hm?” She leans forward and whispers, “Is it Boss?”

“...Are you talking about Jing Yuan?”

“Who else?”

You cross one leg over the other. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other at the dinner table.” She chuckles. “Nothing escapes my eyes.”

“Well, he’s been a nice guy so far,” you admit, looking at the pool.

“Hey…” When you turn back, March is looking at you with curiosity. “Are you trying to find some faults in him or something?”

“It’s not that. It’s…” Then, you give her a deadpan look. “You’re asking a whole lot of questions, March.”

She laughs. “Sorry. To make up for my rudeness, is there anything you’d like to know?”

Well…

“Why do you call him Boss?”

March leans back and looks out at the pool. You sense there's a personal story behind the nickname as the silence is not what you’re expecting. Then, March says, “Long story, but we were guests when he was still getting this B&B off the ground.” She turns to you. “...Back then, I was still active.” Active? “Judging from your expression, you still don’t know who I am, huh?”

“You’re March, right? That influencer—”

Just as the man’s words come back to you, March says, “March 7th reporting for duty!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes widen. “You’re March 7th?!”

“Gosh, took you long enough.” She sighs. “Then again, I can’t blame you.”

March 7th. She was a popular online influencer in her early twenties who disappeared from the Internet after multiple scandals.

‘Fake’ Rich Girl Cancelled

Scandal-ridden Influencer Upcoming Appearance Cancelled

Online Influencer Stops Activites After Unreal Discovery…

You’ve heard of her and seen her ads in department stores. While you weren’t a fan, per se, you knew that she was known for her popular videos that showcased her “idol-like” visuals and talent. She sang and danced and appeared on reality shows. You vaguely remember hearing from your friends that she was caught smoking or promoting fake products. There were more accusations, but you didn't pay much attention as you had your life to worry about.

Regardless, you remember her being much skinnier with long hair. Her makeup style was also a lot bolder than what it is now. That was years ago. Now her features have matured, but when you look closely, you can see it. The essence of who she used to be.

While you don’t remember what caused her online career to plummet, you’re at a loss for words. You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d meet someone like March 7th.

“...You’re not going to ask?”

“About your scandals?” You’re curious, no doubt. “That’s none of my business. But, I just…” Then, quietly, “It’s crazy to think that a celebrity is in front of me right now.”

“Looks like my hunch about you was right.” She puts her hands on the chair. “You’re not the type that goes crazy over celebrities and whatnot.”

“I like to think I’m past that phase, thank you very much.”

You and March quietly laugh. Then, she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She slides it open and offers you one. You politely decline. To your surprise, she puts it back inside her pocket instead of lighting one.

“...Anyway, to answer your question, Jing Yuan helped me out of a bad place.”

It was the early hours of a cloudy day when March went out for a smoke. She lit a cigarette and took a drag just as she saw a shirtless Jing Yuan working in the garden. Did he really not recognize her? He’d treated her like any other person. She wasn’t a failed celebrity or a girl with "issues." She was just like everyone else.

March walked over and continued watching him. She’d seen her fair share of physically attractive older men. But maybe it was because of the industry she was in that most of them were sleazy or had ulterior motives. Yet what she’d seen of Jing Yuan so far... He was none of those things but a hardworking, upstanding guy.

Jing Yuan stood and turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Your attention would be nice.” Jing Yuan raised a brow, and March chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” Then, she took another drag. “...You don’t happen to have a map of the island, do you? It’s my first time here.”

“You can find one at the reception counter. Pom should have some—”

“Already checked,” March lied. “Do you have any at your office?”

Jing Yuan walked up to her, and March awkwardly avoided his eyes. “You checked, huh?”

“...Yup.”

But, instead of calling her out on her lie, he put on a shirt and said, “...Follow me.”

When they walked side-by-side, she casually asked, “Why don’t you hire someone to do all this manual labour for you?”

“Someone’s curious.”

March shrugged. “Just something I observed. You have a few workers here and there, but you’re still doing a lot of the management stuff yourself.” She looked around at the guests who were enjoying a casual BBQ or casually strolling around the resort. “But, this place looks like it’s doing well enough for you to hire a few extra people.”

“For someone on holiday, you sure are paying a lot of attention to what’s happening around here.”

Jing Yuan opened a door to the cabin designed like a mini office. But, before March could follow him inside, he said, "...Wait here."

She stepped closer to him and her body was inches away from his. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you'd be trespassing, and I could kick you out."

March almost felt offended at how unamused he sounded. "...Do you know who I am?"

"Are you here for the map or not?"

March sighed and walked off the porch. "Go on. I'll wait here."

When Jing Yuan came back out, March was sitting on a rock, looking bored as hell. He walked over and handed the map to her. "This one has a few day trip recommendations so you'll have ideas of what you can do."

March stood and took it from him. Then, she crossed her arms. "Sounds like you're trying to kick me out."

"That wasn't my intention. You're free to stay, of course. But, it would be a waste to spend your entire day at the resort. There's a lot to see."

Sensing his genuine kindness, March frowned. “You aren’t scared your reputation’s going to plummet because you’re housing an unruly celebrity?"

“If I was, I wouldn't have let you stay here."

"So you do know who I am," she said, narrowing her eyes.

“No matter who you are, you’re a guest like everyone else. Why would I treat you any differently?”

There’s so much to unpack that you don’t know where to start.

“I kinda wanted to flirt with him, if I’m being honest," March says, leaning back. "But, after he said that, it made me realize that I was young and dumb.”

“...How so?”

“The rumours about me that were going around at the time… Not all of them were true. But, I started believing all the nasty things people were calling me." March sighs. “I won’t bore you with details, but Jing Yuan was a stranger. Him treating me just like any other person made me see things a little differently. Maybe he was judging me back then, but if a stranger could see past that, why couldn’t I do it for myself?”

“You seem to be doing a lot better now,” you say with a little smile.

“I am, but I’d like to attribute that to my hard work. It has nothing to do with Jing Yuan.” She laughs. “But, yeah, I mean… it’s in the past and we get a good laugh about it now.”

“I never thought you’d be into older men, though, if I’m being honest.”

March leans forward. “Jing Yuan ages like fine wine, I swear. We’d never mix well, but I was so shocked to hear about his divorce.”

“...Was he married when you, uh…”

March raises her hands as if declaring innocence. “I knew nothing about a wife and a kid back then. If I knew, I wouldn’t have flirted with him. Wasn’t a few years later that I found out. It’s still a shock to many people.” March lies back on the chair. “He hasn’t seen anyone since... probably because he was so busy trying to get this business off the ground that he had no time for things like that."

The skies have brightened, and from over the horizon, the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

“Hey.” You turn to March who has a curious sparkle in her eyes. She asks, “What do you think of Jing Yuan?”

“...He seems like a good guy.”

March rolls her eyes. “Girl, give me the tea. Do you think he’s hot?”

You don’t get a chance to answer when you and March see someone enter the pool area. Jing Yuan’s shirtless, but it isn’t just his toned body that takes your breath away. The abstract dragon tattoo that runs from his shoulder to his chest looks like it's handpainted. He looks in your direction, and unbeknownst to you, March waves at him.

“Out for your morning swim?” she asks.

Jing Yuan slips on a black beach blazer and walks over. “What are you two doing up so early?”

“What do you think? None of us could sleep.”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “Why’s that? Is it a problem with the room?”

“The room’s fine,” you say, looking away, your face feeling slightly hot.

March glances from you to Jing Yuan and back to you. Then, she takes out her phone and sees the flurry of messages. “Ah… I’d better head back,” she says, standing. “Will you two be okay?”

“What makes you think we won't?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Boss,” March looks at you and chuckles. “Well, toodles!”

Jing Yuan puts a hand inside his pocket as he watches her run off. Then, he sits in the chair in front of you. “...Don’t tell me I did something to upset you, Corporal.”

You finally turn his way. “What makes you think that?”

“Seems like you didn’t want to look at me for a bit there.” You can’t help but look at his dragon tattoo. Then, his low voice comes again. “Curious?”

You look up and see him looking at you with interest. “A little.”

Jing Yuan smiles and looks down. “Well, why don’t I make you a deal?”

“...What kind of a deal?”

He nods at the pool. “Take a swim with me, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I’m in my PJs if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t tell me you came to a resort without bringing a swimsuit.”

“I came here for work.” Jing Yuan continues looking at you until you cave. “...Okay, I did bring something.”

Jing Yuan chuckles. “You’re right, though. You’re here for work. But, if you need to relax, the pool’s always open… most of the time.”

You slightly smile. “Are you here every morning?”

“Every other day. Otherwise, I go for a run.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or call you crazy.”

“Why not both?”

“Because that’s being too nice,” you deadpan.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

"What gave it away?" You rub your eyes. "Sorry. I can really feel the fatigue kicking in.”

“Go back and get some sleep.”

You sigh and stand. “But, breakfast’s in an hour.” You don’t need to guess that you’re going to oversleep.

“...Text me when you’re awake.”

You look at Jing Yuan who’s also standing now. “Why?”

“Special service.”

“...Special service?”

“If you want to go out and grab something to eat when you’re awake, that’s fine. Or…” Your eyes widen when he leans slightly closer and whispers in your ear, “...The owner can cook something for you in a private kitchen. No pressure.”

“Private… kitchen?” You narrow your eyes. “Trying to butter up the enemy, huh?”

“Enemy?” He chuckles. “If that’s how you want to put it. But”—he smiles mischievously—”you’re going have to do a little better to get secrets out of me.”

“Who said anything about secrets?”

“It’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” Then, he leans upright. “Good luck, Corporal.”

You watch Jing Yuan walk and dive with perfect form into the swimming pool. Now you’re not just tired. You’re also a little annoyed… but excited?

◆◆◆

By the time you’re awake, it’s a little past noon.

You wash up and change into comfortable clothes before opening your phone and seeing a bunch of texts from your friends. You forgot you left your phone on silent and didn’t bother checking it. Some are from your mom, asking how everything’s been. So, you give her a call.

“Are you having too much fun that you forgot all about me?” she jokes.

“It’s why I’m calling you now.”

You get her up to speed with what’s been happening, including that you are friends with the owner of the B&B. Of course, you don’t go into details about the… flirting that’s been happening.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

“More or less.”

“...Do you know that he’s been trying to reach me?”

“Who?”

As soon as your mom says your ex’s name, you frown. “...He really wants to get back in touch with you.”

“Mom, I thought I told you to block him.”

“I did! But one of your friends reached out and… He wants you to give him another chance."

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen." A small pause. "I’ll deal with this. I won’t let them harass you anymore.”

You sigh loudly when you end the call. This is not how you imagined to start the day. Jing Yuan suddenly flashes in your mind, and you slightly shake your head.

You’re thinking about the best course of action when you head outside and hear overlapping voices. The closer you get to the stone villa, the louder it gets. Then, you see a small crowd surrounding two tall men who look like clones of one another. Both have a handsome face. But one has green eyes and long black hair that reminds you of an elegant prince while the other has short black hair and dull blue eyes. A short distance away, Welt is watching with vague amusement. When he sees you, he waves.

“...What’s going on?” you ask, walking up.

“Ah… Let me apologize for the commotion on behalf of my friends,” Welt says.

“Your friends?”

You look closer, and you swear you’ve seen them before. They’ve just finished taking a photo with two girls when the man with the long hair notices you. He walks past one woman and up to you.

“Is this the woman you and March were talking about?” he asks.

“My latest inspiration and the woman who stood up for March? Yes.”

When the man smiles at you, your heart almost skips a beat. “Hi.” He holds out a hand.

You awkwardly take it. “Hi… You’re not going to give me a name?”

The man looks a little surprised as if you should know who he is.

“...Clearly, my brother’s head is still in the clouds.” The other one walks over and gives you a little smile. “My name’s Dan Heng. This is my brother, Dan Feng.”

Where have you heard those names before…?

“They’re athletes,” Welt says as if reading your mind.

That’s when it hits you, and you gasp.

“Didn’t you compete in the Global Games?”

“That’s right,” Dan Feng answers. “Two-time fencing and kendo gold medalists.”

Your jaw almost drops.

“Welt and March told us about you,” Dan Heng says.

“We’ve been curious,” Dan Feng adds. Then, with a little smile, he says, “You’re prettier than they described.”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment.

“...What are you doing?” Dan Heng deadpans.

“What? I’m being honest.”

Welt and Dan Heng roll their eyes just as you hear, “...You’re awake.”

You turn around and see Jing Yuan dressed in a fitted, V-neck, dark gray shirt and white pants.

Dan Feng chuckles. “Don’t tell me you have a date with the owner.”

“That’s…” You remember your mom and your annoyingly persistent ex. Then, you're hit with an interesting but workable idea. Before Jing Yuan can say anything, you say, “...Could we talk?”

As the brothers watch you and Jing Yuan walk into the stone villa, Dan Heng side-eyes his brother. “Don’t be getting any weird ideas.”

“You hurt me, Brother. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Because you never prove me otherwise.” Then, he sees Welt looking in the direction you and Jing Yuan had walked off. “...Welt? Is something wrong?”

Welt turns back. “Oh, no. I… just had a thought.”

“Inspiration, perhaps?” Dan Feng asks.

“...Something like that.”

Pom greets you and Jing Yuan with a salute when you enter the lobby. Then, in a cheery voice, he takes the receptionist’s phone call.

“If you want privacy, we can talk on the patio,” Jing Yuan says.

Sure, why not? It’ll give you a chance to gather your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leads you upstairs, and despite Pom’s professionalism on the phone, his eyes are following your every move. Jing Yuan opens a set of doors that leads to a rooftop patio that has a fireplace and some couches and chairs.

“...I got a call from my mom today,” you say, sitting on the adjacent couch.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Apparently, my ex’s been bothering her.”

“...That’s not a good sign.”

“My friends have been texting me about unblocking him, too. And…” You sigh and look away. “...Getting a bit off topic there. But, just to get them off my back for now, could you…” Gosh, this sounded a lot better in your head.

“You want me to play the fake boyfriend?”

“I mean… You don’t have to do anything. It’s not like they’re actually here, so—”

Jing Yuan leans forward and looks at you with a little smile. “That’s true, but I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

Your pulse quickens as he continues looking at you. “I’m also looking for other ways to get him off my back, but I'd appreciate the help.”

“If it escalates, you could file a police complaint.”

“...I hope it won’t get that far,” you mutter. You lean back. “We may have broken up, but… we were friends for years before we dated. Just kinda sucks that’s all gone too.”

“If you remained friends with him… do you think that friendship would continue to last?”

“...Hard to say.”

“Sometimes, we outgrow our friends, and ending things with them may not be as ugly as relationships but..."

"It still hurts... if not more," you finish. Then, you glance at him, thinking whether to ask him about his ex-wife when Jing Yuan’s phone goes off.

He reaches into his pocket and looks at the screen. Then, he looks at you apologetically. “I have a meeting.”

“Ah, no worries. Sorry for keeping you.”

“...Looks like my special service will have to come a little later,” he says, standing.

“You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You stand and shrug. “I thought you were just saying it. Seems a little much.”

Then, he leans over and suddenly kisses your cheek. “Well, you’re not just a guest anymore, are you?” When you see him looking at you, your face feels warm. “...As I said, I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

This is just temporary. You’re here for work.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

Chapter 5

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