simpforhatguy

[simpforhatguy]

hiii can i ask for more jingyuan fanfic?

(you're my fav writer:3)

Carnivore’s Hour

Yan!Lion Hybrid!Jing Yuan x Human!Reader

The subway car rattled as it slowed toward the final stop. The lights flickered weakly. It was almost midnight, and only two people remained inside. One of them was sleeping.

A woman in a coat slumped against Jing Yuan’s shoulder, her neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. He didn’t shift away. Dressed in a sharp suit with his tie slightly undone, he sat motionless, his amber eyes fixed on the window’s reflection. His lion ears flicked at the sound of the final stop announcement.

She stirred. The woman blinked herself awake, startled to find her head resting against a stranger’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry—!”

“It’s fine.” Jing Yuan said calmly.

She laughed nervously, brushing her hair back. “Did I sleep the whole ride?”

“You did.” he replied, standing when the doors hissed open. He tilted his head toward the exit. “It’s not safe this late.”

He walked her out slowly. The station was empty. Vending machines buzzed quietly, and far-off footsteps echoed on the tiles. The cold clung to them.

“You waiting for someone to pick you up?” Jing Yuan asked.

She shook her head. “No. I live on the other side of town. Missed my stop, actually... Guess I’ll call for a cab.”

He pretended to check his watch. “It’s well past curfew hours to cross certain districts. Cabs won’t run through the Border Line after eleven.”

She frowned. “Seriously?”

“I live nearby.” he offered, “I have a spare room. You can stay the night and head back in the morning.”

The woman hesitated, gaze flickering over him. Handsome, tall. Expensive watch. He looked too polished to be dangerous.

“…Are you sure? I mean, I’d hate to impose.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

And with that, she nodded. “Thank you… That’s really kind.”

Jing Yuan smiled. “Not at all.”

He didn’t mention this was routine for him. That she was the third woman this season.

----

Across the city, a small clinic stayed open late. Wedged between a bakery and an antique shop, its lights glowed steadily. Inside, you bent over your desk, fingers stained with ink, the lamp casting a warm halo on your hair. The door chimed, but you didn’t glance up.

“Clinic’s closed.”

“I don’t need treatment.” Jing Yuan’s voice rumbled warmly as he stepped inside, his familiar cologne drifting with him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to show up so late?”

He shrugged off his coat, letting it hang on the back of your chair before perching on the windowsill. “It’s the only time I’m free.”

“I don’t care.” you said flatly, but you didn’t kick him out. “What if someone sees?”

He smirked. “No one dares question me.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

But he was already watching you. His gold eyes flicked to the faint bags under yours, the fatigue in your posture, the slight smell of antiseptic and coffee. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“And you’ve been eating well.” you replied coldly, eyeing the trace of blood under his nails.

“Accidents happen.” he said.

You didn’t reply. You just turned back to your files.

He used to be your best friend. Before he became something else—wealthy, influential, but with something wild beneath the surface. Something that wouldn’t have frightened you before. Now, it did.

And yet, you never locked the door when he came by.

“I worry about you.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head.

“No you don’t.” he said quietly. “You worry about the parts of me you still recognize.”

And he left before you could respond, the bell over the door chiming softly behind him.

----

There were days when you wondered. What if he never changed? What if the boy you once knew was still in there?

Jing Yuan used to be barefoot and grinning, scraped knees and dirty hands, swearing he'd keep you safe.

But memory was not always kind. Especially the memory of that night.

It was winter. You had closed the clinic early to hike out for herbs beyond the city’s boundaries. You weren’t expecting snow, let alone the quiet hush of frost clinging to trees. You weren’t expecting him, either.

You found him hunched in the brush - barefoot, shirtless, steam curling off his skin in the winter air. His tangled hair framed a face that wasn't quite his anymore.

Beneath him, a deer thrashed.

You called out to him before you even realized what was happening.

His teeth had already sunk in. He tore through it like it was instinct. Your legs refused to move. He looked up only once, mouth and chin slick with red.

“…It’s just food.”

You never spoke of that night again.

The memory shattered when the clinic door slammed open.

“Emergency! Please—!” A man stumbled in, clutching his side. You glanced at the clock. Not even seven yet. The “Open” sign hadn’t even been flipped.

Still, your instincts kicked in. You rose from your desk. “What happened??”

His hand shot forward, grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t scream.” he hissed, pulling something from his coat.

But someone else moved faster.

A heavy thud echoed as the man was slammed into the wall.

“You picked the wrong place to mess with.”

Jing Yuan stood over the man, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other curled into a tight fist. He didn’t look angry. He looked… bored.

“Don’t—this isn’t the place.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Then he let go, letting the man collapse like discarded trash.

“Apologies.” Jing Yuan said, dusting his sleeves as though it were all a minor inconvenience. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks. That was fast…”

He gave you a soft smile. “I came to bring your breakfast. Guess my timing’s perfect, as usual.”

But behind that smile, his eyes followed the man who was now limping toward the exit.

As the man stumbled out the door, Jing Yuan leaned slightly toward his coat pocket, pressing something beneath the fabric of his suit.

“Follow him. Don’t kill him yet.”

You said nothing. But you knew.

By the time you turned back toward him, he was already holding out a paper bag with congee and soy milk.

“Still warm.” he said. “You should eat before the next emergency.”

You stared at the bag. Stared at him. And somewhere, deep down, you wondered how long you could keep pretending this was the same boy who used to let you bandage his scraped knees.

----

A few days passed. No calls. No sudden visits.

You thought it might feel peaceful.

Life ticked on, but your hands kept remembering the pressure on your wrist from that attacker, and the ease with which Jing Yuan had shattered him against your clinic wall.

You kept staring at that spot.

The sun was still low when you walked toward the corner store to restock gauze. That’s when you saw her again, leaning against the alley brick, arms crossed over her pristine blazer, lips painted the color of dried berries.

“Slept well, I hope?”

You stopped.

“…Hello, Meiren.”

Meiren Tzai. VP of Strategic Operations at Jing Yuan’s company. A serval hybrid, if you remembered correctly. Always dressed like she came from a board meeting and headed straight to a runway.

“I was beginning to think you’d taken my advice.” she said, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve.

“Which one? The part where I should die quietly or the part where I’m not his type?”

She laughed.“I said ‘stay away.’ I didn’t say die. You’re imagining things.”

“If he chooses to show up, that’s on him.”

Her smile stiffened for half a second.

You had dealt with worse.

Jing Yuan once offered to deal with her.

“If she bothers you again, I’ll have her pulled from my board.”

You’d waved him off. You didn’t want him involved. The thought of Jing Yuan “handling” someone made your stomach knot in ways you couldn’t explain.

So you told him, “Don’t do anything.”

And so, here you were again.

Meiren narrowed her eyes slightly, something unreadable flickering behind her cool facade. “You must think I’m just some jealous colleague.”

“I don’t think about you that much.” you replied.

Her smile faltered. But she recovered fast. “You know, the thing about Jing Yuan is... he's complicated. You wouldn’t understand someone like him.”

You stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “No. I suppose I wouldn’t.”

She smiled like she won something.

You didn’t tell her that Jing Yuan once nearly tore a stag in half with his bare hands. That the same man she spoke of with such shallow pride had blood under his nails when he handed you breakfast.

Maybe it was better that way. Because if Meiren Tzai ever got a glimpse of what Jing Yuan truly was, her shallow threats would shrivel on her tongue.

She walked past you then, her tail flicking once as she passed. “Take care. Try not to play in a league you can’t survive in.”

You let her go without responding.

----

Your phone buzzed while you were halfway through organizing medicine cabinets.

Jing Yuan: Come to my office. Jing Yuan: I want to see you.

You stared at the message. No explanation. No appointment scheduled. Not even his usual lazy “I’ll pick you up” or “Are you busy?”

Something felt off.

The towering headquarters of Xianzhou Consortium was a sleek beast of glass and steel. You walked in wearing your neutral clinic clothes, already attracting glances from sharply dressed interns and hybrids in tailored suits.

You approached the main reception desk, adjusting your satchel.

“Excuse me. I’m here to see Jing Yuan.”

The receptionist barely glanced at you, tapping something into his system. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I—”

“I’m sorry, no access without clearance or a formal appointment.” the man cut you off smoothly.

“Oh?” came a familiar voice.

You turned.

Meiren approached you. “Still letting the stray walk in through the front, I see.” she murmured, voice low enough for only you to hear. “How quaint.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. Because just then, the elevator behind her opened with a low ding—and Jing Yuan stepped out.

His ears twitched once before locking eyes with you. The minute he saw Meiren standing near, he was definitely not pleased.

“I’ve been waiting.”

You didn’t look at Meiren when you passed her, but you could feel her expression burning into your back.

Inside the office, the doors shut with a quiet click. The glass walls were darkened for privacy, and a mild scent—something deep and warm like musk—lingered faintly in the air.

“What’s going on?”

Jing Yuan leaned against the edge of his desk. “I missed you.”

“You.. missed me?”

He smiled.

“You—” You stepped back. “You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere. I thought there was a crisis. I closed the clinic early!”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Are you—wait, are you serious?”

He stepped forward.

“Wait.” You raised a hand. “Don’t come closer. What’s really going on?”

Jing Yuan’s breath hitched, and for the first time in days, the carefully groomed facade of control cracked just slightly.

“…It’s that time again.”

You knew what he meant.

Hybrid physiology was complicated, especially in carnivore bloodlines. Every few months, Jing Yuan's instincts kicked in: sharper senses, shorter temper, hunger. And you weren't naive enough to think he just wanted steak.

“Suppressants..” you muttered, pressing your fingers to your temple. “I didn’t bring any.”

He didn’t answer. He simply stepped closer. You could hear his breathing. His pupils were dilated now, the gold around his irises glowing faintly. Then he tilted his head toward you and inhaled slowly.

“Don’t!” you said quickly. “Don’t do that.”

He froze, but his hands had gripped the edge of the desk behind you.

You heard footsteps. Someone was approaching the hallway.

And just like that, he pulled back. His face returned to its usual mask of calm, only the faintest sheen of sweat betraying the war he was fighting with himself.

He turned toward the comm unit on his desk.

“Xing.” he said into it. “Escort our guest out safely.”

A second later, the door opened, and one of the secretaries entered with a bow of the head. “Understood, sir.”

You hesitated, but Jing Yuan gave you a nod. “Go. Please.”

“…I’ll get you something.” you said. “Just hold it together.”

“I’ll try.”

You followed the secretary out of the office, your mind already racing through ingredients, pills, injectable doses. The city blurred past the windows of the shuttle on the way back. You didn’t care. You needed to get back to the clinic.

The message came just after sunset.

Jing Yuan: Come to my house. Tonight.

You already had the suppressant ready—three small pills, pale grey, formulated from your own trials. Stronger than the last batch.

At the same time, elsewhere in the city, Meiren sat alone, reviewing internal reports with fingers tapping her pen in an offbeat rhythm. Her eyes narrowed at a series of logs: shift anomalies, missing staff check-ins, discreet cleaning crew invoices submitted under Jing Yuan’s direct authorization.

Something wasn’t right.

She knew Jing Yuan liked to work off-grid at times, but lately, he’d been too private. And then there was you, a clinic worker with no business being around someone like him.

She’d find out what he was hiding. One way or another.

The gates of Jing Yuan’s estate opened, letting you in. The house loomed ahead, modern architecture with curved stone and a glass exterior that concealed more than it showed.

But what caught your eye was the pool.

A body floated in it.

That was the man who attacked you.

Rotting now. Facedown in his private pool.

You didn’t run. You just turned and walked up the marble steps to the door.

He was already there.

His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway, sleeves rolled up. He looked disheveled, like he’d either just woken from a nightmare.

“I brought the pills.”

Inside, the house was dim. Cool air swept through the open layout, but something felt wrong.

There was a soung. A dull, rhythmic bang. Like someone throwing themselves at a door.

“…What is that?”

Jing Yuan’s shoulders tensed.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You stared at him. “There’s someone in there.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“It is if you’re keeping someone alive like that.” You tried to move toward the noise.

He stepped in front of you, blocking the hall.

“I took the suppressant,” he said, “I did what you asked. But it’s not enough.”

“Then let me—”

“No,” he said sharply. “The only thing you can do now…”

He exhaled, and his hands came up to grip your arms.

“…is stay with me. That’s all I need right now.”

You met his gaze.

His breathing was shallow. He was holding back something monstrous—but only barely. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly, like he wanted to dig into your skin and keep you there forever.

Behind you, the banging continued.

“…I’ll stay,” you said. “But not like this.”

His expression flickered.

Then softened. Just barely.

The banging had stopped.

You waited for a while.

Jing Yuan’s gaze followed you like a slow tide. “It’s fine now.”

“I just want to see.”

He didn’t stop you this time.

You padded down the hall, passing quiet doors and expensive decor. The sound had come from the room at the end, you believed so. You turned the knob carefully.

Empty.

Pristine, even.

Nothing was out of place. No scratches. No scent of blood.

“Are you reassured now?”

You turned. He was standing there calmly.

“…Yeah” you murmured, unsure if you were lying.

Later, in the kitchen, you made something simple. Steamed rice. Boiled greens. Egg, ginger, and broth. He didn’t ask for meat. He didn’t touch the meat drawer at all. Just sat at the counter, eyes half-closed as he watched you move like you were the last quiet thing left in the world.

He ate everything.

“You should sleep.” you said after he finished.

“Only if you stay.”

You hesitated. But in the end, you stayed. You told yourself it was to monitor his status. To ensure the suppressant was working.

You fell asleep in the guest room, lights off, his scent clinging faintly to the pillow.

And while you slept, he left.

Meiren should’ve known better.

She’d slipped past outer surveillance. Used her clearance, slinking across Jing Yuan’s private property like she owned a right to his secrets.

She didn’t expect him to be standing there, barefoot, silent in the garden fog, waiting.

“I didn’t mean anything by it..” she said. “Just checking up. You've been distant.”

“You’ve always been very curious.”

“You really let that clinic thing get into your head, huh?”

That was her last mistake.

Morning came.

You woke up to warmth at your side.

Not the sun.

Him.

You were half-pinned to the bed, head sunk into the pillow, and Jing Yuan’s arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, his chest pressed to your back.

You stiffened.

“Jing—?”

You tried to shift.

He didn’t budge.

So you turned slightly, just enough to slip free, when his hand reflexively tightened. You let out a startled yelp and nearly rolled off the bed, but he caught your wrist with perfect reflex.

His eyes opened slowly.

“…Good morning”

“I thought you were in your room—!”

“I changed my mind,” he said. “You were warm.”

He pulled you gently back into place, as though the interruption never happened.

“Sleep more.”

----

You were just pulling on your hoodie when your phone buzzed.

[Clinic Alert]: URGENT – Full staff required.

The sender was your supervisor.

You rushed out of the guest room, barely pulling your bag over your shoulder when you found Jing Yuan at the stove, humming faintly to himself as he turned over scallion pancakes on a hot iron pan.

“Leaving so early?”

“WHAT THE- HOW?? Anyway, I got an emergency message from the clinic.”

He turned the flame off immediately, setting the spatula aside. “I’ll have someone else handle it.”

“No,” you said, already moving toward the door. “It’s serious.”

“I can drive you.”

You hesitated, then nodded. It was faster than public transport.

The car was already running by the time you stepped outside. As you climbed into the passenger seat, the scent inside washed over you. Familiar, but stronger than before.

The day was long.

Blood, screaming,.. you worked through it all, trying to keep the breathing steady and the damage controlled.

At sunset, your boss found you leaning against the back sink.

“You disappeared for a full day. This isn’t a hobby. You can’t come and go.”

“I responded to an emergency—”

“You’re not the only one with patients. You want to play doctor part-time, find another clinic.”

You didn’t respond.

You just nodded, held your tongue, and walked out without looking back.

The sky had already turned deep purple by the time you stepped outside.

And Jing Yuan was there. Waiting in his car across the street, leaning back in the seat, one hand draped over the steering wheel.

You got in without a word.

He glanced at you. “Bad day?”

You didn’t answer right away. He didn’t push.

But halfway into the drive, he broke the silence.

“You could stop doing this.” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

You looked at him.

“I mean it. You don’t have to work. Or, if you want, I can make space in my company. You could lead a whole department. Or oversee our hybrid wellness programs.”

You stared at the city lights bleeding through the windows.

“You think I don’t want to help people?”

“I think you’re tired,” he replied. “And wasted in that clinic.”

“…I want to do this” you said. “I chose this.”

He was quiet for a beat.

“But wasn’t this all because of me?”

You turned to him.

He glanced at you briefly. “You said so.”

Your chest tightened at the memory.

The hospital hallway. The blood down his neck. Your hands shaking so hard you couldn’t even hold a compress.

“If I’d known more,” you’d said back then, crying into your palms, “I could’ve done something. I’ll learn how to take care of you next time. I promise.”

“Back then, it was just you. My whole world was you.” You muttered.

Jing Yuan didn’t reply.

So you added, “But it’s not like that anymore. You’re still important. But not everything.”

You didn’t notice that he’d stopped driving toward your home.

He pulled into the underground garage of his estate instead. You blinked as the car descended the smooth ramp into dim, private lighting.

“Hey—this isn’t—” You frowned, trying to argue, but you barely managed a few more words before your body felt suddenly heavy. Like your limbs were melting into the seat. A slow warmth spread through your chest.

That scent again. Thicker now.

It wasn’t just cologne.

“…What’s in the car” you murmured, slurring slightly. “Jing…”

“It helps calm my instincts.” he said. “Usually.”

You tried to sit up, but your head lolled.

“You need rest.” he whispered, reaching across you to unbuckle the seatbelt.

You woke up, but you weren’t in a bed.

Your arms were bound behind you, wrists aching slightly against thick restraints, and your ankles were tied to the legs of a heavy chair. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the lingering fog in your head.

A soft click echoed nearby.

“Jing Yuan,” you croaked. “Let me go.”

He tilted his head as if you were being unreasonable.

You yanked against the restraints. “This isn’t a joke.”

He walked past you, reaching into a locked cabinet across the room. You heard the rattle of glass vials. You saw the gleam of metal.

“Of all the people I’ve taken before—for meat, for coin, for… other uses—I always knew I couldn’t treat you the same. That was unfair of me. You were special.”

He turned, syringe in hand, “But it’s also unfair that I crave you this much, and you… don’t.”

You froze.

“I don’t want to make you suffer,” he said gently, kneeling beside you. “I just want you to understand. To feel what I feel.”

The needle sank into your arm so fast you barely felt the sting.

Your vision swam immediately.

“You—!” You tried to speak, but the words dissolved.

Warmth flooded your body. Your skin prickled like heat lightning had erupted beneath it.

“Your system’s a bit weaker than mine,” Jing Yuan said thoughtfully, brushing hair from your face. “But that’s okay. I’ve adjusted the dose.”

You tried to focus on him. His outline blurred. Then your restraints came loose. The rope dropped to the floor. You slumped forward and landed in his arms. He caught you without effort, cradling your weight against his chest.

“Now we’re more even, aren’t we?”

You woke again.

A bed. Silk sheets. Pillows that smelled like him.

You sat up slowly. Your body felt too light and too heavy at once. Everything beneath your skin thrummed. Your thoughts were cloudy like something in you had been rewired. You touched your chest. No visible wounds. But something inside… burned.

A knock echoed on the other side of the door.

“I’ll be in shortly.”

Jing Yuan soon stepped in.

Sunlight spilled around him in a soft halo, his hair down, loose around his shoulders.

You sat up on the edge of the bed.

“I want to get out of here.”

“You just woke up. Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine.”

You stood, legs trembling slightly, not from exhaustion, but from something else. You clenched your fists.

He took a step closer.

That’s when it hit you.

The scent.

It wasn’t cologne. Not even the suppressant that lingered faintly around his clothes.

It came off him, seeped into your lungs and curled up inside you. You hadn’t noticed it before. Not with this clarity. You felt your knees weaken again. Your mouth went dry. Your heart pounded like it wanted to leap toward him. You couldn’t stop inhaling.

Your body wanted to be closer.

More.

“Stop it.” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything.

You stumbled forward, but instead of running, your hands landed against his chest. You felt his warmth through the shirt. The rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. Your forehead nearly brushed his collarbone.

You hated it. You craved it. You couldn’t breathe without it.

“I said stop!” you shouted.

And pushed him away.

He didn’t resist, only staggered back slightly, arms loose at his sides. His expression remained calm, but the flicker in his eyes said everything. A quiet pain. Or disappointment.

You ran past him, down the hall, through the open door he didn’t bother locking this time.

The sun burned your eyes as you stepped out into the city. The wind stung your cheeks.

You didn’t look back.

By the time you reached your clinic, your breathing was ragged. Your hands trembled as you dug through your drawers, scanning for anything to slow your racing pulse. You didn’t even know what he injected into you.

You collapsed into the rolling chair.

You could still smell him. On your sleeves. In your hair.

You pressed a cloth over your nose and mouth, desperate to shut it out.

You injected yourself with the suppressant. If it worked on him, then maybe—just maybe—it would work on you, too.

Your body didn’t spiral like it had yesterday. The craving was dulled. But it never vanished. Even now, seated stiffly at your desk, typing up reports and updating patient records, you could still feel it.

Every time someone walked past with a faint cologne, your nose twitched, disappointed.

It wasn’t his scent.

You forced yourself to finish the day anyway. You didn't want him to know how much it still controlled you.

But of course, he came anyway.

It was already dark outside when you locked up the clinic and stepped out onto the quiet street.

He was waiting beside his car.

You didn’t speak.

He opened the passenger door with practiced ease. You got in without a word. The drive was silent.

But your heartbeat wasn’t.

The moment you inhaled the air in the car, your restraint trembled. His scent was there - natural, unfiltered, saturating the space. It reached into your lungs, curled around your nerves.

You pressed your nails into your palms and kept your mouth shut the entire way back to your apartment.

When you arrived, he walked you to your door.

You fumbled with the keys, struggling to fit them in the lock, hands shaking from something you couldn’t name. He reached over, brushing your hand aside gently to help.

That was it.

The second his hand touched yours, the last thread snapped.

You turned and crashed into him, arms wrapping around his torso, your face burying itself into the crook of his neck. You inhaled.

And then you kissed him.

Once. Twice.

Lips brushing against his cheek, jaw, the edge of his mouth.

It wasn’t loving.

It was need.

His palms cradled your face. “Take it slow,” he murmured. “Go inside first. Breathe.”

But the moment the door clicked open, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Yanking him in, kicking the door shut, crushing your mouth to his. He yielded, tilting his head, letting you take like he knew this hunger would devour you both.

You broke for air. Then kissed him again.

And again.

Each time you stopped, it wasn’t by will. It was because you needed to breathe. Each time you returned, it was like your body was starving all over again.

His hands held you steady. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he already knew this would happen.

Your nails scraped his shoulders. Teeth found his throat. You bit. Not hard, but enough to feel his pulse. He didn’t stop you. He barely flinched.

You fell asleep not long after that, your body giving in.

When you woke, you were tucked into your bed.

In another room, Jing Yuan stood over your notes.

He flipped through the test logs with one hand, the other brushing the bandage over his neck where you’d bitten him.

Your handwriting trembled by the third page.

“…if this suppressant doesn’t work, I might lose myself completely.”

He closed the folder.

Satisfied.

Because now, finally— you needed him just as much as he needed you.

[simpforhatguy]

The stupid copy machine is broken again.

It's always something in the office—either the wifi is down, or the coffee machine is out, or the 2nd floor toilets are out of order. No matter what day of the week it is, you can count on something going wrong.

Cursing softly to yourself, you tap again at the touchpad, growing more and more aggressive with every error it spits back at you.

"Stupid fucking thing. Nothing ever works around here. Can't even do my goddamn job—"

"Are you talking to yourself again?"

Your head whips around. It vaguely registers in your mind that you probably look insane—hair stuck wildly to your face, eyes wide and brows knitted in thinly-veiled rage. There's a sky-high stack of papers in your arms, nearly spilling over from the height of it.

Scaramouche whistles lowly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Someone is having a day," he comments, smirking. His gaze rakes down your form, amused. "You wanna tell me what's going on, or is that kind of talk reserved for your therapist?"

You gesture sharply to the copy machine with your chin.

"The copy machine. Is broken. Again."

Still looking entertained, Scaramouche looks past you.

"You sure? I used it this morning."

You turn back to the machine, looking down at the error on-screen.

"I don't know. I haven't had to use it in a while. It just keeps giving me this stupid goddamn error—"

A soft heat washes over your back, a murmur over your skin. You flinch at the feeling.

"Let me take a look," Scaramouche says lowly, breath brushing over your ear. You don't dare to move, overwhelmingly aware of his proximity.

He reaches past you to tap at the machine's screen, humming casually. He's so close that his arm is snug against yours.

Briefly, you worry about whether anyone else will see you like this. Whether they would notice the flustered expression on your face, whether they would notice how you unconsciously push closer to him.

"Ah, it's doing this again. I can fix this."

You're not really listening, at least not anymore. All you can focus on is just how close he is. Every vein in your body feels like its frozen over.

"Okay," Scaramouche finally sighs, stepping away from you. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "All done. Maybe now you can stop bumbling around like an idiot."

He's teasing you again, but you can't even look at him. It's humiliating, and you secretly hope that he doesn't notice your nervousness.

"Yeah," you murmur, squeezing your papers closer to your chest. "Thanks."

When he leaves, you start making your copies. It's a welcome distraction from the confusing tangle of feelings in your head. The machine beeps rhythmically, copies warm as they start to slide out of the feeder.

And yet, all you can remember is the heat of him pressed against your back.

[simpforhatguy]

fur"baby" w/ jing yuan

the lion ignores the latest gap moe update

taglist:

@moristhesecond @hunnieknight @haithxm-main

@mikoochaan

@greyrain23 @reideneris @bro-im-just-playing @teabutmakeitazure @meimeimeirin

@psychopomp-enthusiast @jade1605 @mochinon-yah @eussstasss @lillieofth3valley

@ichikanu @harmonysanreads @yellowelectroslime @miraclecherryblossomsblog @rossithepixie

@schoenpepper @cadesthings @creationsabyss @hirotasama @jth12

@alhaithams-malewife @oliaxter @angeveins @sakisud @xhongshan

@materlux @lost-in-the-night-skiess @shinha @m1kuz0ne @vashyuu

@n0rmalsimp @biytdtdatmirsmlys @mad-girlfan @wriomii @fyodorssimp1

[simpforhatguy]

This is my first request so if you’re not comfortable writing something no worries and you can just ignore this���

Can I request some fluff with Scaramouche? Just some house husband kind of thing sorry if I’m being too vague. I love your writing it’s so yummy

husband!scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. scara and a cat bicker. soft, grumpy scara

fluff won the day today. thank you very much for your kind words.

since the day scaramouche married you, you have always had this cute little habit. where before going to bed, you always sat down and organized the following day.

feed the cat. water the plants. make a grocery list. go to the store. take the cat to the groomers. these are some of the things on the list.

normally, if he woke up before you, he liked to hang out in bed, and hold you until you woke up. but you have been looking a bit more tired than usual, lately. he felt a lot better if you slept in a little. he hates getting up early, but he knows you hate it to, and if there are things doing that need doing that would help you out, then damn it he is going to do them for you.

scaramouche knows it isn't exactly always easy being married to him.

"here, you little shit," he grumbles, setting the can of expensive cat food on the floor as the cat hissed at him. "i swear you hate everyone but my wife," perhaps him and this cat are more similar than he would like to admit.

scaramouche narrows his eyes at the cat. "speaking of, she's my wife, you shit. mine. don't get any funny ideas," rolling his eyes, he set about looking through the cabinets to see what was needed, watered the plants and wrote down the various little things you'd listed off last night.

an hour or two later, he looks up to the much friendlier meowing of the cat. you padded barefoot into the kitchen, looking incredibly adorable with bed head, wearing one of his shirts.

"you didn't have to let me sleep in," said sleep was evident still in your voice as you plug in the coffee pot, "do you want any coffee, hunny?" behind you, you hear a disgruntled sigh, and you can feel your husband's boring into your back.

"hm? what is it?" you ask, turning to see a pissy look on his face. "what? did the cat scratch you again?"

"no, i am just waiting," he did the classic arm cross that you know very well. "well?" he presses watching you try and puzzle out what was wrong. "you didn't give me my good morning kiss."

laughing softly, you went to his side. "good morning, my darling," sitting in his lap, you loop your arms around his neck, pressing his awaited kiss on his lips.

scaramouche practically purrs as he kisses you back. "that's much better," he pulls away for only a moment before kissing you again, doing his best to linger his lips on yours.

"now, let's go get ready. the cat's groomers appointment is at noon, and then we can head to the store," you rest your forehead against his, nuzzling against it. "i just need to make a grocery list real quick."

"already done," putting a hand on the back of your head, he keeps your forehead against his a few moments longer before officially starting the day with you.

..

"i think we stocked up pretty good earlier at the store. i want to go the farmer's market tomorrow," you close the bedroom door behind you.

"we can go right when they open. all the fresh stuff will be out that way," scaramouche is very happy to sink down onto the bed. pulling back the covers, he suddenly realizes you aren't crawling into bed with him like normal, ready to curl up against his chest, tucked safely in his arms.

you are just standing there at the foot of the bed with a raised eyebrow. your hip looks awfully cute cocked like it was. "what? did i leave the lights on downstairs?" he asked.

"no, i am just waiting," you cross your arms, "well? you haven't given me my goodnight kiss yet," a soft soft is tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"inpatient, aren't we?" scaramouche made a come hither motion with his finger. "come to bed, wife, and I'll give you your goodnight kiss."

[simpforhatguy]

You sighed as you open your locker.

What’s wrong with this year? Most of not all of your friends have some sort of argument or fallout. You being middleman doesn’t help you either—especially when you’re forced to pick sides. Rumors after rumors.

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice a small photo dropping onto the floor. You and a certain indigo hair boy—what’s his name…Kunikuzushi?

Ah, yes, you were friend with some neighborhood kids but he randomly stop visiting you all the sudden on day.

You would think of him ever now and then—you probably had a little crush on him when you two were little—?!

You freeze.

“So you do remember,” a voice breathes against your ear, low and amused.

He chuckles, resting his chin on your shoulder like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

“My god-awful mom finally let me out of that shitty house,” he says, voice oddly soft, almost affectionate.

“But look,” he continues, tightening his grip, “we’re together now. Just like you promised.”

He squeezes your waist.

“You waited long enough.”

[simpforhatguy]

Can I request more for Jing Yuan? I love him and I love how you write him🥺🥺🥺

Can it be a reader who thinks she is not worthy of his attentions, and quetions him about why he loves her so much. And he answers that he just wants to make her happy because he is so obsessed! And if you could can you add this prompt when he is explaining 🍖 and this one when she accepts his feelings 🐪

Thank you

Worth

Contents: Yandere!Jing Yuan with prompts: 🍖🐪

more Jing Yuan content here

TAG LIST

PROMPT LIST

WARNINGS: READER HAS SELF ESTEEM ISSUES, YANDERE, IMPLIED STALKING.

Another bouquet is delivered to your doorstep. It's the third one that week. And they all come signed by the same man.

"Yours truly, General Jing Yuan"

How truly strange, how overwhelming. To have a man most would kill to get a glance of him, delivering flowers to your home, even when you two have only met a couple of times before. It's surreal, unreal, something that shouldn't be happening.

You sigh, taking the flowers inside and placing them in a nice vase, just so they don't rot. Out of respect, out of pity, they really are beautiful flowers. And you finally read the note.

"My dearest ____,

How I wish I could deliver these myself, unfortunately, you must know that being the general of the Cloud Knights leaves little time for me to take care of more frivolous pursuits. Fortunately, I was able to land us some good seats for shadow teather tonight, so, I hereby extend you an invitation to come accompany me to the show. I will meet you at eight in the central garden, and then I will escort you to the show and to your home afterwards.

I hope you can accept my invitation.

Your truly,

General Jing Yuan."

Do you even have clothes for the theater? You find yourself asking more and more questions the more you read the letter. "Frivolous pursuits" does he consider relationships unimportant? Like they don't matter? Or does he just consider you such a thing. You don't know, you don't think you want to find out. And yet, you find yourself roaming around the central garden just a few minutes before the clock strikes eight.

"You came." A masculine voice interrupts you, and you have to look up to face the man. Jing Yuan, in all his glory, is there. Standing tall, hair messy, smile charming. You freeze in place, nervous, ignoring the heat that plagues your face in that moment.

"It would have been rude to not show up..." You manage to mumble, and he lets out a soft chuckle. Offering you his arm, which you hesitate to accept.

"I won't bite, I promise." He says in a soft purr, and your brows furrow just a little.

"Why?" You ask, his expression becomes puzzled.

"Why I won't bite? Well, I— I find it rather uncivilize—"

"No, I- I meant. Why... me?" You whisper meekly, your expression unreadable. And his brows furrow this time.

"Why not?" Jing Yuan asks back, and you find yourself unable to find a concrete reason.

"I don't know. I- I guess because I'm... nothing much, nothing truly special. Why should I be the one that gets to... to have you? God, that sounds awful," You let out a humorless chuckle. "Why are you doing all of this? Just... just to get my affection, my company."

"Because I want you, ___. How much more obvious do I have to make it?" He answers, playful for a moment. "I think you're beautiful, smart and I want to get to know you. I want you, ___. You and only you. You're special to me. And I could do so much more to have you, to make you happy. I could do anything, I will do anything. Everything I do, I do for you... my love."

You're stunned, you want to cry, lower lip trembling as he wraps his arms around you. His strenght and height making him able to lift you up easily.

"You're so weird..." You whimper, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as your arms come to meet his back, hugging him as well.

"I know," He whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, bold. "I hope you're able to forgive me for that."

"I will try." A soft giggle leaves your lips, and he smiles.

"Mine, all mine..." He whispers, and you don't find the energy to protest that claim. "My lovely, beautiful, ___. My one and only."

As you finally walk to the theater, you find yourself asking more questions.

"How did you know which adress to deliver the flowers?" You ask, and his eyes darken, an enigmatic smile over his handsome face. He shrugs, playful.

"I have my ways."

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!!!

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @goldenglow149 @rania200527 @kitzusune @lakxcpsta @chercheryblossomsweet @houchan @eeelieschariot @hannas16 @mokingbrd78k @janeisnotonline @poopooindamouf @kaylarilla @tsukimoon-chan @mallowryblog @whatsupbishs @lazypostfandomer

[simpforhatguy]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 let me hear you say ! | various hsr men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; please ! let me hear you say ! pleaaaaaaaase ! even with the fact you and your boyfriend have been together for years now, he needs you like the air he breathes. and he is NOT afraid to let it be known.

love mail — sage loses the plot part 5 million 🤗.... whatever is going awn in this plot idek it came to me in a vision 👻 ! dont mass unfollow me if this is bad PLEAASEE PLEASE PLEASE 😞😞🙏🙏💔💔 (dramatic)

"must i recite you poetry written by the most romantic of poets? you know i want you here, you know i'll do anything to keep you, so don't leave. plea..— fuck, please." anaxa, the demised scholar, reduced to a pathetic plea. he's tugging on your sleeve to be 'cordial', but he quickly takes the hand it's inserted itself through to his cheek, kissing your palms as he wants his intentions of what he wants to happen tonight to be very clear.

"come on, sweetheart. one more, mmh—please? i promise you won't be late, just.. just let me have this. i promise it'll just be one" that's a lie and you know it. with the way mydei's face is flushed just the right amount of red, and the fact he's already leaning in, your chin being pulled back to him by his thumb and pointer finger.. all you have to do is say yes and he's all yours. (please, please say yes)

"come on, please? please— i need you. i'll let you do whatever you want, honey. and all i ask for is you to be here." phainon is a BEGGER. totally burying his head in your lap, vice like grip on the sides of your thighs as he pleads for just a little longer. just a bit more time with you—he whines.

"don't.. don't make me beg. because you know i will, and i won't stop. so stop acting like you want to leave, and stay." blade's trying to act nonchalant about it but he's looming over you and subtly running his hands down your back, to your waist, and settling at your hips. he needs this so very badly, he needs you to fix his aching heart.

"i need you. for once, i need something, someone. and by the aeon's i will let it be known rather than suffer in your absence. please- please. i'd rather you stay than be anywhere else." sunday's got you sat on his lap on a comfy lounge chair, practically trapped with the grip he has you in. and oh.. that bastard. to keep your attention on him, he leans in close and personal and uses his wings to block any view you may have from the sides. now you have no choice but to acknowledge the extent of his desperation for just a drop of your time.

"what do you want? new clothes, jewelry, a fancy dinner, money? name it all, and i'll have it arranged. just let me be yours tonight." jing yuan acts like he's courting you, making promises of riches and fortune that'll be yours as if he doesn't spoil you enough. he takes both your hands and brings them up to his chest, and despite his smirk, his eyes are desperate. very.. very desperate.

no copyright.. all urs....

[simpforhatguy]

Mistaken Identity- Jing Yuan & more x fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 26th, 2025

Description: I just had the cutest and funniest idea, how would the hsr men react to their baby trying to breastfeed from them thinking they're the reader.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. A very real thing. i didn't do too many because they're all very similar

Word count: Jing Yuan- 102, Welt- 102, Luka- 105, Boothill- 110

Back to directory

Jing Yuan

“How are you still hungry?” Jing yuan laughed, looking down at his wide eyed baby.

The little one was staring up at him with big doe-eyes while trying to latch on to his chest. He watched her little face move while she tried to eat, and scrunch up in frustration when she got nothing.

“For one, you are in the wrong spot.” He carefully pulled her away, finding the little mark she’d left amusing. “Secondly, I do not have food for you. At least not there.”

He cradled her in his arm and went to the kitchen to get her another bottle.

Welt

Welt’s brows furrowed and he looked down at his baby boy curled against his chest. There was a wet, sucking feeling on his chest. The baby was very clearly trying to get milk out of Welt who was getting some quality time in while he drew a little cartoon for the little bottomless pit.

“Is it dinner time already? I probably wouldn’t have noticed, this is clearly a ploy by your mother to make sure I eat regularly.”

He smiled down at the baby and set his pen down, setting him down to put a shirt on before he left the room.

Luka

Luka looked over at the bassinet where his daughter was starting to fuss. He was in the gym, getting in his usual workout while she watched.

There was nothing he could do about the laugh she pulled from him as he jogged over, scooping her up only for her to immediately face plant against his chest. The fabric of his tank top scrunched up in her little mouth.

“Time for food, huh? I guess I have been at this for a while. Come on, let’s take a walk while you eat.”

She didn’t let up until Luka offered her a bottle that actually fed her.

Boothill

“Hate to break it to ya, but that ain’t gonna work.”

It was a warm day so Boothill was keeping his body cool and his little boy against him. He looked down to check on him, to see if he’d fallen asleep, and found him leaving a drooling print on his chest. The cool metal of his chest plate was a little fogged up.

“I ain’t got the parts for that, although…”

He tilted his head in consideration while preparing the bottle. It was technically possible, he could get the parts to feed the little cowboy without a bottle. Though he wasn’t sure how efficient or safe that would be.

[simpforhatguy]

ft. gn! reader, fluff, romantic relationship, not beta-read. do i know how to write him? no. am i going to stop? not yet. do i even know what i'm writing? also no.

Harumasa always liked to go with the flow, planning every little thing was overvalued in his eyes. So, you had grown used to expecting something strange or sudden after moving in with him. It was never harmful, and most times were definitely fun.

However, finding a very familiar-looking Bangboo sitting on your boyfriend's lap when you came home was definitely unexpected.

"Heey! Look at the new addition to our family. Cute, isn't he?" The agent took the rabbit-like robot's paw and moved it to wave at you. "Say hello to Asaboo!"

"...Is this related to the surprise for your teammates that you mentioned a few weeks ago?" Curious, you took a seat next to him, examining the little robot.

"Spot on! I got one for myself, they said it should act a bit like me, too. Aren't you happy to have two Harumasas now? Many fans would dream of this, you know?"

You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, reaching over to carefully pick up Asaboo and put him on your lap. The little thing was undoubtedly adorable, leaning into your touch when you began to pet one of his ears.

Your boyfriend watched for a little before a pout appeared on his lips, seeing his Bangboo get all of your attention. Now, he wasn't an overly jealous man, but... Come on! He was right there!

"Doooon't you think you're giving too much affection to him? What about your poor, sick boyfriend who has been working so hard lately?" He twisted his position to put his head between you and the robot, looking up at you with sad eyes.

"Aren't you working so hard these last few days because Yanagi got tired of how much you've been slacking off?" You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching over to continue petting the little rabbit.

"Whaaaaat? Me? Slacking off? I would never." In a quick show of his dexterity, Harumasa snatched the Bangboo from your lap and plopped his head on your thighs, the robot now sitting on his stomach.

He took one of your hands, guiding it to his head with a smirk on his lips. "There, you can pet me and I'll pet Asaboo, isn't this better?"

"Hmm, I don't know... I think Asaboo might be softer, and much more adorable..." You said, tapping your chin with a finger as if you were thinking really hard about it.

Harumasa gasped in mock hurt, resting a hand over his heart. "How could you... Ouch, I think... I think my heart is actually going to break. Oh, to die by being heartbroken, betrayed by my own partner... Ah, I can see the light..."

Letting out a snort at his antics, you ran your fingers through his dark hair, the fake hurt expression completely disappearing from the agent's face when you finally gave him what he wanted. True to his word, he began to pet the Bangboo's head in response.

"You're such a drama queen."

"But you loooove me!"

You shook your head with a smile, laughing when you felt one of Asaboo's paws start to pet your arm since it didn't reach your head, turning it into some kind of weird, petting circle.

[simpforhatguy]

Seth, Lighter, and Harumasa w/ Crush Accidentally Confessing Hcs

Wanted to do these with the other boyos

Warnings: none

And here's another thiren who absolutely did hear you no matter what, and also not subtle about it. It's obvious from the way his tail stops and his ears perk up.

Though luckily for you he's also one of the boys who won't give chase, or at least give up easily once he realizes what he's doing.

Though don't think he will let you avoid him after that, but you can thankfully calm down since he seems to act nonchalant about what happened.

Oh how absolutely wrong you are, after heading home this poor poor flustered feline was blushing like a tomato. He could not get your words out of his head, even if it was just a simple accidental confession.

So he made a promise to himself to showcase his feelings to you back, though more subtly until he himself worked up the nerve to confess. Luckily knowing it's reciprocated does give him a small confidence boost.

Though he'll definitely be teased to hell and back by his colleagues if anyone saw (they did, they all bet on who would confess first).

Honestly if you did this you don't have to worry about Lighter's reaction, it's the rest of the biker gang you have to watch out for.

As if one (Ceasar or Lucy) hear you then all the girls are crowding around you for clarification.

Even if you tried to run you're getting chased by them and they will catch up no matter what. Lighter almost feels bad as he sees this happen before you all disappear from his sight.

They will corner you and demand for more details. They most definitely already knew about Lighter's feelings for you, so once they find out about your shared love those girls will drag you back to repeat the confession.

Though that's mainly Caesar and Burnice, Lucy and Piper are easier to convince to let you do it when you're ready and pretend nothing happened.

As for Lighter himself, after the girls return with you in tow he's most likely already calmed himself down by then. Though trust me he would have a hard time looking you in the eyes without blushing crazy.

But I can see him subtly sneaking you two into a more private area to gently ask you to repeat your confession. If you wish to pretend it didn't happen still, he's hesitant to go along, but he wants you to be comfortable.

If you do repeat it, then he's gonna be blushing even more! And also awkwardly cough into his fist to try and pretend he isn't. But! He's gonna reciprocate the confession, though not as cooly as he wished he could've done it. 

Lord help you because Haru will freeze in place very obviously. Like any teasing he was doing is just stopped and most likely would have everyone worry about his heart suddenly stopping.

His entire face will turn red as his brain quickly processes what just happened.

If you had run away while this was happening he's giving chase. Good luck because he will catch you!

I mean you do have the advantage since besides strength from using his bow, stamina wise he's last within Section 6.

But he has the home advantage of knowing every hiding spot within HSO headquarters. So you'll be in for a shock as he just barges into the space and leans his face dangerously close to yours.

And he's not backing away until he can hear you say it all over again, and maybe asking you to repeat several more times. 

He'll let out a chuckled apology once you berate him for it, but ask you to repeat it one more time. This last time he'll interrupt you with a kiss.

[simpforhatguy]

You know those videos of Dads and their dad reflexes with their baby’s? Like how they catch their kids before they land on their heads? Can I request Aventurine, Sunday, Dr Ratio, Blade, and Jing Yuan doing that?

Not really part of the request but I like to think Yanqing made it his mission to be a “big brother” to his generals new baby and has had a moment where he was alone watching the baby and saved it from hitting their head poor guy probably panicked💀

Caught in the Moment

Tags: Aventurine, Sunday, Blade, Jing Yuan, Ratio, Domestic Fluff, Fatherhood, Protective Dads, Gentle Moments, Character Reflection, Calm Affection, Parenthood, Quiet Peace.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (Blade), Mentions of immortality (Blade), Mild violence (mentions of near danger).

A/N: please, he probably had a heart attack! 😭🙏

It was a quiet evening at Aventurine's lavish home, the dim glow of luxurious lamps casting a soft hue over the room. He sat at the long, sleek table in the dining room, tapping a pen rhythmically against the polished wood as he mulled over some calculations. Despite the grandiose trappings of his surroundings, tonight wasn’t about strategy or high-stakes games—this was his time with the child.

Aventurine’s latest gamble was one he hadn't anticipated: fatherhood. And while he was known for his cunning and calm in the face of danger, he had no strategy for this—no game to play. His child was his greatest unknown, and they had a way of defying expectations.

Suddenly, from across the room, the unmistakable sound of small feet scurrying broke the silence. Before he could register the moment fully, there they were—his little one, gleefully running toward him. But, alas, the floor was slippery beneath their tiny shoes.

Aventurine’s heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he pushed himself from the table, his expression an unreadable mask, though his body tensed as he tracked their trajectory. His child, still oblivious to the danger, began to stumble—hands reaching forward for balance, their tiny body tipping perilously.

His movements were lightning-quick. Without hesitation, he swept in and caught them mid-air, lifting them up just before they could crash into the floor. His arms cradled them with the same calculated precision he applied to business deals.

They giggled, unaware of the near disaster, while Aventurine couldn’t suppress a small, wistful smile. The adrenaline rush of the moment lingered for only a second, but it made him realize that, in this chaotic game of life, he’d finally found something worth playing for.

"Careful there," he said, his voice light and playful, masking the fleeting unease he felt inside. "You’ve got to pace yourself in this game."

The room was bathed in the soft glow of early evening, a tranquil calm that was almost otherworldly. Sunday stood by the window, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon as he reflected on his recent decisions. His mind, always occupied by existential ponderings, occasionally sought refuge in the simple joy of watching his child play.

They were playing by the couch, their little fingers gripping the soft carpet beneath them as they tried to stand, tottering on wobbly legs. Sunday smiled softly, his eyes flickering with pride. A part of him couldn’t help but admire the resilience they displayed—a quality he himself had struggled to find in his own past.

As they took another step, Sunday’s serene focus shifted into mild alarm when they lost their balance. Their body tipped forward, heading toward the edge of the coffee table.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sunday’s wings fluttered slightly—a subconscious reaction—and he moved forward, his tall figure flowing across the room in a series of graceful strides. He reached out just in time, his hands effortlessly catching them before they could collide with the table.

The little one blinked up at him, eyes wide in surprise, and he simply smiled softly, cradling them close to his chest. It was the kind of simple moment that his idealistic heart cherished—a moment that needed no words, just the soft comfort of protection.

“You’ve got to learn to balance in life,” he murmured gently, his voice like a soft breeze. “But don’t worry, I’m here to help you.”

For a brief moment, he felt the conflicting pull of his old idealism—his desire to shield them from harm, even if it meant navigating the murky waters of his own internal struggles. But for now, he let that quiet turmoil fade into the background, focusing only on the warmth of the child in his arms.

The laboratory-like atmosphere of Ratio’s home was filled with the soft hum of mechanical devices and the constant presence of books and research papers, creating an environment that was always abuzz with activity and intellect. Despite his usual air of self-assurance, today was different. Today, he had been tasked with looking after his child while he took a break from his intellectual pursuits.

Ratio was sitting at his desk, absently fiddling with his latest experiment, when a sudden shriek broke his concentration. Looking up, he saw his child—still too young to understand the consequences of their actions—leaning precariously over the edge of the nearby chair, trying to grab at something just out of reach.

Ratio’s heart rate quickened, but only for a moment. He had no time for hesitation. A flash of motion, and before the child could tumble from their position, he was there. His hand shot out, fingers grasping the back of their tiny shirt as he yanked them back into his arms.

"Impressive," he muttered under his breath, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he straightened them up in his arms. "Calculated risk taken... or perhaps not. Should’ve known better than to allow you to wander too close to danger."

The child, seemingly unperturbed by the near-miss, giggled and reached for his glasses, earning a soft chuckle from him. His reaction was a blend of calculated precision and the rare warmth he afforded only to those few who had earned it. He placed them back on the floor gently, adjusting his posture as he turned back to his work.

"Always be careful when testing boundaries," he murmured, his tone both pedagogical and affectionate. "Though, you’ll likely break a few rules before you understand the full implications."

The quiet flicker of pride—almost imperceptible in his usual cool demeanor—was enough to remind him that perhaps, just maybe, there was more to life than pure intellect and unrelenting pursuit of knowledge.

The night had settled over the Xianzhou Luofu, its vast corridors bathed in soft moonlight as Jing Yuan sat on the large velvet sofa in the living room. The quiet hum of his surroundings was a welcome change from the bustle of his duties as General. Tonight, however, was not about politics or strategy. It was time with his child.

They were seated on the plush carpet, playing with colorful blocks, the room filled with the gentle sound of their laughter. Jing Yuan's eyes flickered from his quiet reflection to the playful movements of the child, their small hands stacking the blocks with surprising focus.

Just as he was about to indulge in a rare moment of relaxation, the child, a little too eager in their exploration, began to stand, wobbling unsteadily as they took a tiny step forward. Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed slightly, tracking every movement as they teetered dangerously close to the edge of a low table.

In an instant, his reflexes kicked in. He rose from his seat, his tall figure moving with an elegance that belied his usual languid demeanor. Without a sound, his hands shot out and caught the child just before they tumbled forward. The child, now cradled safely in his arms, blinked up at him, startled by the sudden movement.

"Careful," Jing Yuan said softly, his voice filled with a calm, knowing affection as he gently set them back on their feet. "It's easy to forget your balance, but it’s important to always be mindful of where you’re going."

The child giggled and reached for his arm, as though offering their own small form of reassurance. Jing Yuan smiled, his eyes softening in that rare moment of warmth, the fleeting sensation of peace that he had worked so hard to cultivate within the Xianzhou now extending to the quiet sanctuary of his home.

The dim light of Blade's home flickered, casting long shadows across the room where Blade sat, his arms folded across his chest. His usually cold, calculating demeanor was softened for the moment—he was at home, a place where the sharp edges of his mission seemed to dull just a little. His child, their presence almost a contradiction to his tortured past, was moving around the room, their tiny steps full of excitement and exploration.

His eyes followed them with a trace of something unspoken in his gaze. For all his power, his immortality, and his resolve to bring an end to his suffering, this—this quiet domestic moment with the child—was a reminder that there were things beyond his tragic existence.

But it didn’t last.

With a sudden, clumsy movement, the child, still unsteady on their feet, lost balance and began to fall towards the sharp edge of a table. Blade’s instincts kicked in—no hesitation, no thought of consequences. His hand shot out and, with uncanny precision, he caught the child in mid-air, their small form colliding gently against his chest. For a moment, the stillness was overwhelming. Blade’s heart didn’t beat, but in the silence, he felt something stir—a fleeting warmth that felt both foreign and familiar.

"Watch your step," Blade murmured, his voice low but laced with a tenderness he couldn’t quite hide. His gaze softened as the child looked up at him, a wide grin on their face as if nothing had happened.

The child wriggled out of his grasp, reaching for the toy they had been playing with earlier, completely unaware of how close they had come to danger. Blade stood for a moment, his gaze lingering on them, before a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips—an expression he rarely wore, but one that seemed to fit in this quiet, domestic world that somehow had found its way into his immortal existence.

"Even the smallest steps can be dangerous," he murmured, almost to himself. "But I’ll always be here to catch you."

And with that, Blade returned to his silent watch, torn between the eternal path he had chosen and the fragile peace that, for now, seemed to be the only thing worth holding onto.

[simpforhatguy]

Um, I don’t think anyone needs this, but I decided to make TWST OC templates in between my chores so…I don’t even know why I made these lolol~

The so-called, “oc template market” is already so saturated, but I’m sure the fandom can handle one more—

I don’t have a sample right now, but the template is pretty straightforward. In the brackets, you input your oc’s name in katakana, and right below that, in English lettering. You can add your desired CV right above the line before the “age,best subject, etc.,” slightly lower than the English lettering of your oc’s name. (I hope that makes sense.)

Edit: (I’ve uploaded a sample of what that should look like, please see my reply in the notes if you’re interested.)

Edit 2: I have added an RSA intro card + NRC Staff cards :))) (they will be available perhaps in the replies as I’ve reached the maximum 10 images per post

Then, at the very bottom, beside the “Unique Magic,” input the name of your oc’s Unique Magic there, and a short description of what it does under the line. I do hope you guys enjoy using this template!

Please don’t remove my watermark when you do use it so that people may be able to find the rest of the templates!

Fee free to tag me when you do use them, I’d love to see the twst oc’s I haven’t come across yet! It’s always a pleasure to be able to see how creative the fandom can get when it comes to designing and curating stories for their ocs.

[simpforhatguy]

May I ask for the template for the twst oc intro? 🥺👉👈 I wanna try it too QuQ

Hiii!! For those who want to use my template for their OCs!!!

I’ve been wanting to give out my templates lol but I keep forgetting xDD

But.... Please credit me if you use it! (Tag me so I can see all your ocs too!! Might reblog some of my favs??? We’ll see lol)

[simpforhatguy]

Jing Nyan /ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\

Read the remaining two pages and more of these at my ko-fi here~

[simpforhatguy]

hiiiiii,

can you do yandere!Student council representative!Jingyuan troublemaker!reader?

pealsepleasepleasepleaseeeeeee🥺

Yandere!Rep!Jing Yuan x Troublemaker!Reader

"Why is it that whenever trouble arises, it always seems to involve you?"

The sharp voice of the disciplinary officer echoed through the student council room. You stood in the center, arms crossed, your uniform slightly disheveled—evidence of whatever chaos you’d been caught up in this time. Behind you, two of your closest friends looked anywhere but at the fuming officer, their guilt written all over their faces.

And yet, despite the lecture, despite the serious nature of the situation, one person remained utterly unbothered.

Jing Yuan, the esteemed Student Council Representative, sat comfortably in his seat, chin resting on one hand, golden eyes half-lidded in amusement.

The officer continued their tirade, but you barely heard them anymore—not with the way Jing Yuan was watching you, like a lion indulging in the sight of its favorite prey.

Finally, unable to ignore him any longer, you turned your head slightly and met his gaze. That smile of his widened just a fraction.

Oh, he was enjoying this far too much.

The punishment was predictable. Community service under the watchful eye of none other than Jing Yuan himself.

You huffed, gripping the broom in your hands as you stood in the empty hallways of the academy. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the polished floors, and the only sound was the distant chatter of students enjoying their freedom.

Jing Yuan watched you with the same infuriatingly amused expression he always wore. "You’re surprisingly obedient today," he mused, tilting his head. "I expected more complaining."

You shot him a glare, sweeping the broom across the floor with a little more force than necessary. "Oh, trust me, I have plenty to say. But since someone made sure I ended up with extra hours, I might as well get this over with."

Jing Yuan chuckled, the deep sound annoyingly pleasant. "Don’t be so upset. I even cleared my schedule to personally supervise you. That’s quite the honor, don’t you think?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, an honor. I should be grateful to have the mighty student council president breathing down my neck while I sweep floors."

"Oh, I wouldn’t call it breathing down your neck… not yet, at least."

You froze for half a second, grip tightening on the broom. Jing Yuan watched you struggle for a response, then leaned in ever so slightly, just enough to invade your space. "I wonder," he mused, "if you'd get in trouble again just to spend more time with me."

"Absolutely not."

-----

You knocked on the student council room’s door before pushing it open without waiting for a response. "I'm done" you announced, stepping inside. "The halls are spotless. You could eat off the floor if you wanted."

Jing Yuan didn't even glance up. He was seated at his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, his usually lazy demeanor replaced with rare focus. His brows furrowed slightly as he scanned the documents.

You lingered by the door for a moment, then, against your better judgment, took a step closer. "What are you even working on?"

"Schedules, budgets, disciplinary reports," he murmured distractedly. "Ah, and proposals for upcoming events. The usual burden of student council leadership."

You peeked over his shoulder and caught sight of one particular form—something about club funding allocations. A mistake immediately jumped out at you. Without thinking, you leaned down, snatched a pen off his desk, and scribbled in the correction.

"Oh?"

You met his gaze and shrugged. "I simply cause problem, not stupid."

For a moment, he simply stared at you, then he smiled. "Indeed, you aren’t," he said, clearly pleased. He leaned back in his chair, watching you with renewed interest. "You know… you should consider putting that brain of yours to better use. If you get a high score—perhaps even top of the grade—I could pull some strings and get your punishment lessened. Maybe even have you join the student council."

You snorted, crossing your arms. "Hard pass."

Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You didn’t even think about it."

"I don’t need to" you said flatly. "Sitting around, drowning in paperwork, dealing with annoying teachers? No thanks."

He chuckled, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Shame. You'd make an interesting addition to our ranks."

"Exactly. Interesting. Which means you'd have even more excuses to keep me under your watch, and I’m not about to hand you that kind of victory."

Jing Yuan laughed at that, "Fine, I won’t push—for now."

You rolled your eyes, already regretting helping him. "Yeah, yeah. See you later, Rep."

As you turned to leave, you could still feel his gaze lingering on you.

----

The keychain was small, soft, and well-worn—clearly something Jing Yuan had for a long time. It landed on the polished floor without a sound, barely noticeable, but you caught it out of the corner of your eye as you swept.

"Oi, Jing Yuan!" you called out, picking up the white lion keychain and waving it in the air. "You dropped this!"

But he kept walking, completely ignoring you, his usual lazy stride unbothered. You frowned, watching him disappear around the corner. "Seriously? Does he have selective hearing or something?"

With a sigh, you stuffed the keychain into your pocket. It wasn’t like he was hard to find—you'd just give it back when you saw him in the student council office later.

Except, when you went in the afternoon, he wasn’t there. His usual seat was empty, the paperwork on his desk untouched. The other council members barely seemed to notice his absence, too busy arguing over event planning.

"Weird" you muttered under your breath. Jing Yuan, as much as he loved slacking off, never actually skipped his duties completely.

You only found out why when you overheard two students whispering in the hall.

"Did you hear? Jing Yuan’s out sick."

"Yeah, I heard he collapsed at home yesterday. Probably from all that work he procrastinated on."

That was all you needed to hear.

The next thing you knew, you were at the nearest bakery, tapping your fingers against the counter as you waited for them to box up a small cake. It wasn’t anything fancy—just something light and not too sweet. You didn’t even know if he liked cake, but whatever. It was better than showing up empty-handed.

By the time you arrived at his house, the sky was beginning to darken, the evening air cool against your skin. You stood in front of the door, cake box in one hand, Jing Yuan’s keychain in the other.

With a sigh, you knocked. "He better appreciate this."

There was a long silence after you knocked, enough that you wondered if he was even awake. Maybe you should’ve come earlier. Maybe he was asleep, or worse—what if no one was home?

You were just about to turn around when the door creaked open.

Jing Yuan stood there, leaning against the doorframe, dressed in loose loungewear instead of his usual uniform. His hair was slightly messy, his golden eyes hazy with fatigue.

"Ah" he blinked at you, clearly surprised. "Troublemaker?"

You scowled, holding up the cake box. "I have a name, you know. And it's Y/N L/N"

He only chuckled, voice slightly hoarse. "I must be dreaming if you’re actually here visiting me instead of causing chaos."

You rolled your eyes and shoved the keychain into his hand. "You dropped this yesterday. I was gonna return it at school, but since you’re dying or whatever, I figured I’d drop it off."

Jing Yuan looked down at the keychain, his fingers brushing over the worn fabric. "So you noticed"

"Of course I did" you huffed. "You always act like you’re paying attention to everything, but you’re actually kind of careless."

Instead of being offended, he just smiled "And you always act like you don’t care, but here you are. With cake, no less."

Heat pricked at your ears, and you quickly thrust the cake box at him. "Take it before I change my mind."

"Well, since you went through all this trouble, why don’t you come in?"

You hesitated. You’d already done what you came for. But something about the way he was looking at you—calm, expectant, like he already knew you’d say yes—made you click your tongue in annoyance.

"Fine" you muttered, stepping inside. "Just for a bit."

"Of course."

Jing Yuan’s house was exactly what you expected—spacious, neat, and just a little too perfect, as if even in his personal space, he was still playing the role of the ever-composed student council representative.

The only thing out of place was the blanket draped over the couch and the scattered tea cups on the coffee table. A telltale sign he’d been holed up here all day.

"You can sit" he said, setting the cake box on the table and opening it. "Or are you worried that being in my house will ruin your reputation?"

You rolled your eyes but dropped onto the couch anyway, arms crossed. "I should be worried. Who knows what kind of weird rumors would start if someone found out I was here?"

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully, slicing into the cake "Hmm… perhaps I should start one myself. ‘The notorious troublemaker personally came to nurse the student council representative back to health.’ That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?"

"Try it and see what happens."

He only chuckled, placing a slice of cake in front of you before picking up his own fork. "So? What made you come all this way? Guilt? Concern?"

"Annoyance" you muttered, stabbing your fork into the cake. "Someone always acts so smug and untouchable, but then the moment he gets sick, he just disappears? How irresponsible."

"So you were worried about me."

"Don’t read too much into it. I just didn’t want to deal with an overworked student council president collapsing in the middle of the hallway next week."

He laughed, "I see, I see. You’re really bad at hiding when you care about someone, you know?"

You nearly choked on your cake. "Excuse me? Care?"

"Mm. But that’s alright. I don’t mind being the only one who notices."

You shoved another bite of cake into your mouth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jing Yuan only smiled, content to watch you squirm.

The rumors spread faster than you expected.

By the time you arrived at school the next morning, hushed whispers followed you through the halls. Some students gave you knowing looks, others smirked, and a few girls in particular shot you daggers with their eyes.

"Did you hear? They went to his house yesterday." "Brought him cake, too." "So that’s why Jing Yuan doesn’t punish them properly, huh?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Unbelievable."

Still, you ignored it and went about your day. It wasn’t like you cared what people thought. If they wanted to waste their time gossiping, that was their problem, not yours.

By the time you were cleaning the student council room’s windows—an extra task Jing Yuan oh-so-kindly assigned you—the whispers had faded into background noise. You barely noticed when the door opened and a girl walked in.

But you did notice when something cold splashed against your back, soaking through your uniform in an instant.

A sharp gasp left your lips as you flinched, the shock of icy water running down your spine making you shiver. You turned sharply, already scowling, only to find a girl—one of the ones who’d been glaring at you all morning—standing there with an empty bottle in her hand. Her expression was a mix of satisfaction and barely concealed jealousy.

"You think you’re special, don’t you?" she sneered. "Just because Jing Yuan lets you do whatever you want?"

You exhaled slowly, controlling your irritation. "Seriously?" You glanced down at your soaked uniform, then back at her. "Real mature."

She huffed, arms crossed, clearly expecting you to yell, fight back, or maybe even run out embarrassed.

But you weren’t that kind of person.

Instead, you turned to the table where Jing Yuan’s tea sat, still warm in its delicate cup. Without hesitation, you picked it up.

And in one swift motion, you poured it over her head.

The girl shrieked as the liquid soaked into her hair and dripped down her face. It wasn’t scalding hot, but it was warm enough to be uncomfortable, and the sheer audacity of your retaliation left the entire room in stunned silence.

"You—you freak!" she sputtered, eyes welling up with frustrated tears. "You’ll pay for this!"

With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out, still dripping tea.

You set the empty cup back on the table with a satisfied smirk. "Fair’s fair."

Before anyone could say anything, Jing Yuan—who had been watching the whole scene from his desk, absolutely delighted—cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose I should excuse you early. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold from your tragic accident."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, already heading for the door.

The next morning, the girl arrived at school early, long before the hallways filled with students. She moved quietly, sneaking into the classroom where your belongings were kept. Her eyes landed on your locker, and a smirk curled on her lips.

"Let’s see how untouchable you really are."

She fiddled with the lock, slipping a thin piece of metal into the mechanism. It wasn’t perfect, but she had been planning this—maybe to hide your things, maybe to ruin them. Either way, she never got the chance.

"Now, what do we have here?"

The girl froze. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she slowly turned her head.

Jing Yuan stood by the doorway, looking completely at ease—like he hadn’t just caught her red-handed.

"I—I was just—"

"No need for excuses" he said smoothly, stepping forward. "I do appreciate the effort, though. It takes a certain level of confidence to openly mess with someone’s locker the day after getting publicly humiliated."

Her face burned with embarrassment. "I wasn’t—"

Jing Yuan sighed, tilting his head. "But, you know… revenge is such a fickle thing." His smile sharpened. "It never really goes the way you want it to."

Before she could react, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen once, then turned it towards her.

A video played. A video of her trying to break into your locker.

"Oops" Jing Yuan drawled. "Seems like security cameras exist. Who would've thought?" He tucked his phone away, expression far too pleased for someone who just caught a crime in progress.

"Are you gonna report me?" she spat.

"Hmm," Jing Yuan hummed, as if considering it. "Tempting. But no, I have a better idea. I think you should apologize."

"What?"

"To Y/N. Properly" he said, "And maybe—just maybe—I won’t have to ‘accidentally’ send this video to the disciplinary committee."

Her face twisted in frustration, but she had no choice. With one last glare, she stormed past him, defeated.

Jing Yuan chuckled, watching her leave.

He glanced back at your locker, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the cold metal. A little revenge on your terms, he mused.

He would have let you handle it yourself—he loved watching you fight your own battles. But every once in a while, he liked to remind people exactly who they were messing with.

----

You stood at Jing Yuan’s doorstep again, this time with a deep sigh and a stack of paperwork balanced in your arms.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

The only reason you were even here was because he requested it—something about needing assistance since he was still "recovering." You wanted to refuse, really, but if there was a chance this would lift your punishment sooner, you'd deal with it.

With another sigh, you knocked on the door. It only took a moment before it swung open, revealing a woman with warm eyes and a gentle smile.

"Oh! You must be Y/N!" she beamed. "Jing Yuan told me you'd be coming by."

"Uh… yeah. I’m just here to drop off his paperwork."

"How responsible of you! Please, come in," she said, stepping aside. "You must be tired from carrying all that."

You hesitated but stepped inside. The warmth of the house was comforting, the scent of home-cooked food lingering in the air.

As you walked in, you noticed another presence—a man seated in the living room, flipping through a book. He barely spared you a glance.

You gave a polite nod. "Good evening, sir."

He acknowledged you with a slight tilt of his head but said nothing.

His mother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.

"Ah, it’s so nice to finally meet you properly!" she said cheerfully as she led you towards the stairs. "Jing Yuan talks about you, you know."

That made you stop mid-step. "…He what?"

"Oh, just little things," she giggled. "It’s rare for him to show interest in someone outside of council work, so I was curious!"

You had no idea what to do with that information. Before you could respond, she gestured up the stairs.

"He’s in his room. Feel free to scold him for being lazy while you’re at it."

"Trust me, I was planning to."

With that, you climbed the stairs, still reeling from the conversation.

Jing Yuan, talking about you? What was that supposed to mean?

You took a steadying breath as you reached the top of the stairs. Doesn’t matter. Just drop off the paperwork, scold him for being lazy, and get out.

He was lounging on his bed, hair slightly tousled, dressed in a loose sweater and sweatpants.

"Ah, my favorite troublemaker has arrived" he drawled. "And here I thought I’d have to suffer in solitude."

You scowled, stepping in and dropping the heavy stack of paperwork onto his desk with a thud. "You wouldn’t be suffering if you actually did your work at school instead of dumping it on me."

He laughed, stretching his arms above his head like a lazy cat. "That’s what I have you for, isn’t it?"

"Excuse me?"

He sat up, leaning his chin on his palm, watching you with amusement. "I did say I’d help lessen your punishment. Consider this an opportunity to earn my favor."

"Unbelievable."

He gestured lazily toward the chair by his desk. "Sit. You might as well stay for a bit. My mother already adores you, and my father—well, he’s not the type to dislike anyone without reason."

"I don’t want to stay."

"But you haven’t left yet."

He wasn’t wrong. You could’ve dumped the papers and walked out, but you didn’t.

You clicked your tongue. "Fine." You plopped into the chair, arms still crossed.

As the minutes passed, you found yourself settling in despite yourself. His room was surprisingly cozy.

----

Again, whispers, accusations. The same kind of trouble you usually got into, but this time, it wasn’t you.

A mess of scattered files in the teacher’s lounge. Graffiti on the back wall of the school. The fire alarm going off twice in one day.

And somehow, every single time, your name was the first one on everyone’s lips.

"It has to be them, right? Who else causes this much chaos?" "Guess they finally snapped." "Jing Yuan’s been too soft on them. Maybe this time they’ll actually get expelled."

At first, you rolled your eyes at the rumors. It wasn’t the first time people assumed the worst of you, and it wouldn’t be the last.

But then the principal got involved.

And suddenly, you were standing outside the office, arms crossed as you stared down the teachers demanding an explanation.

"How many times do I have to say it?" you snapped. "It wasn’t me."

The principal sighed, rubbing his temples. "The evidence says otherwise. You have a history, Y/N. Even if you didn’t directly cause these incidents, you must have influenced someone who did."

Just as you opened your mouth to argue, a calm voice interrupted.

"I can vouch for them."

You turned your head.

Jing Yuan stood there, expression smooth and unreadable, golden eyes carrying that familiar laziness—except now, it felt deliberate.

"As student council president, I would’ve noticed if Y/N was behind these incidents" he continued, "I don’t believe they were involved."

The principal hesitated. "Jing Yuan—"

"If anything, I personally will take responsibility for watching over them" Jing Yuan added, smiling slightly. "To make sure this… pattern doesn’t continue."

The principal sighed. "Fine. But if anything else happens, I won’t be as lenient."

----

At first, it was just a feeling.

A gnawing doubt at the back of your mind when Jing Yuan vouched for you so easily, so perfectly. It should have been a relief, but instead, it unsettled you.

The timing. The rumors. The way everything fell apart just enough to put you in trouble—but not enough to actually ruin you.

You started watching more closely.

And slowly, the pieces came together.

A student mentioning they saw someone suspiciously near the fire alarm, but their memory was foggy. A janitor complaining about files being scattered but swearing the door was locked. A teacher muttering about how it was strange that the cameras near the graffiti just happened to malfunction.

And then there was Jing Yuan.

Always nearby.

The realization hit you like ice water down your spine.

He did this.

Not just for amusement. Not just because he could.

He did it to keep you by his side.

And that led to now—standing in an empty classroom, heart pounding as Jing Yuan leaned lazily against the teacher’s desk.

"You’ve been awfully busy lately" he mused, arms crossed. "Looking into things that don’t concern you."

"Don’t give me that. I know what you did."

"And what exactly do you think I did?"

"You set me up." The words felt heavy on your tongue. "The rumors, the ‘pranks,’ all of it. You wanted me to be isolated. You wanted—"

"You."

"I told you before, didn’t I?" He stood up, took small steps toward you "I noticed you. And I wasn’t going to let anyone else have the chance."

You took a step back. "This is insane."

"Is it? Or is it just the only way to make sure you stay where you belong?"

Your back hit the wall.

"You have two choices" he said. "Either you decide to stay with me—"willingly"—or…"

"I’ll have to dirty my hands."

"Not that it would matter" he continued, "No one would believe you anyway. Who would they trust—the troublemaker, or the beloved student council rep?"

You knew the answer.

"You’re in your rebellious stage" he mused, tilting his head like he was merely observing you, not actively cornering you. "That’s fine. I expected as much."

"Expected?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, stepping back slightly—just enough to give you space to breathe but not enough to release you from his grasp. "Of course. You’re stubborn, after all. You wouldn’t just listen to me so easily."

"And what? You think I’ll just give in?"

"No, not yet. But I will give you a choice."

"You have two options. Option one," he held up a single finger, "you get first place in the entire grade. Not just top ten. Not just top five. Number one." His lips curled slightly. "Prove yourself to be better than every single student in this school, and I’ll—hmm, let’s say—I’ll consider leaving you alone."

Your brows furrowed. "What kind of—"

"Or." He cut you off, raising a second finger. "You don’t. And I’ll make sure we’re stuck together forever."

"That’s not a choice."

Jing Yuan smiled, "Of course it is. You could try for number one. It’s difficult, but not impossible. You’re smart, after all. I know that better than anyone. Or, you could stay just as you are. My troublesome, reckless, irreplaceable Y/N."

He tilted his head. "Either way, I win."

He was serious. No, more than that—he was certain.

"You’re insane."

"I’ve been called worse. So? What will you do?"

The days blurred together into an exhausting cycle—punishment duty in the morning, classes in the afternoon, and late nights spent drowning in textbooks.

You never thought you’d willingly care about school rankings, but Jing Yuan left you no choice. If you wanted him out of your life, you had to claim the number one spot.

And that was easier said than done.

You weren’t stupid—far from it. But competing against students who had spent years aiming for the top was another level of difficulty. Some subjects weren’t a problem, but others…

You stared at your notes, rubbing your temples. Your punishment work had already drained most of your energy—cleaning, running errands for teachers, fixing up the mess he set you up for. And now you were stuck on a ridiculously complicated problem that refused to make sense.

Your pencil hovered over the page.

Then, against your better judgment, you pulled out your phone.

[You]: I need help with something.

It didn’t even take a minute before the response came.

[Jing Yuan]: Oh? Has my dear troublemaker finally come to their senses?

[You]: Shut up. Do you want to help or not?

[Jing Yuan]: Of course. Anything for you.

A few minutes later, you found yourself seated across from him in the library, your book spread open between you. Jing Yuan looked entirely too pleased with the situation.

"You know" he mused, "you could always just let me help you in other ways."

You shot him a glare. "No. I’m doing this myself."

He chuckled, twirling his pen between his fingers. "How stubborn." Then, with an easy smile, he reached over, tapping the textbook. "Alright, alright. Let’s start here."

Despite his infuriating personality, Jing Yuan was a good teacher. His explanations were smooth, his patience unwavering, and—most annoyingly—he somehow made things click faster than when you studied alone.

But you also knew he was using this as an opportunity to chip away at you.

"You know" he said at one point, watching you scribble down notes, "you’re pushing yourself too hard."

You didn’t look up. "I have to."

"Do you? If you’re struggling this much, wouldn’t it be easier to—"

"Not happening."

Jing Yuan sighed dramatically. "I’m only saying you don’t have to go through all this suffering alone. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone who can take care of everything for you?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You taking care of things is the reason I’m in this mess."

He laughed. "Fair point."

But as the session went on, you felt yourself slipping—just slightly.

Because he made it so easy to rely on him.

And that was dangerous.

When the results were finally posted, you could hardly breathe.

You pushed through the murmuring crowd, scanning the rankings with a pounding heart.

"Second."

Your name sat mockingly in the number two spot.

You clenched your fists. You were so close. After all the sleepless nights, the studying, the exhaustion—

It wasn’t enough.

And you knew exactly what that meant.

A familiar voice hummed behind you.

"Oh dear," Jing Yuan said, peering over your shoulder. "So close."

You turned to glare at him. He was smiling—of course he was. That calm, patient smile that always meant he knew something you didn’t.

"You planned this" you accused.

Jing Yuan tilted his head, amused. "Now, now. I did encourage you to aim higher. It’s not my fault you fell just short of the mark."

Your nails dug into your palms. "You rigged this."

"Did I? Or did you simply underestimate the challenge?"

Your chest burned with frustration. But before you could retort, Jing Yuan leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a soft murmur.

"Regardless," he whispered, "a deal is a deal, isn’t it?"

Jing Yuan straightened, his expression entirely too pleased. "Looks like you’re stuck with me after all."

You had tried. Really tried.

And yet—he won.

Jing Yuan extended a hand, as if waiting for you to take it.

"So," he murmured, "what will you do now?"

If you were stuck with Jing Yuan, then fine.

But that didn’t mean you had to make it easy for him.

Your first act of revenge was harmless—switching the sugar in his tea with salt. You watched as he took a sip during lunch, his expression barely changing, except for the slightest quirk of his brow.

Then, he smiled.

"Salty, hm?" he mused, setting his cup down. "How bold of you."

You scowled. He barely reacted.

So you stepped it up.

Loosening the screws on his chair just enough that when he leaned back, it nearly collapsed under him. Nearly. Because, of course, he caught himself, laughing under his breath as he glanced at you.

"Trying to kill me already?" he teased. "How cruel."

You didn’t stop.

You left fake love letters in his locker. Spread a rumor that he had a secret admirer. Stole his favorite pen right before an important meeting.

And yet—no matter what you did, Jing Yuan took it all in stride, as if he expected it. As if he enjoyed it.

Your frustration peaked one afternoon when you "accidentally" swapped his neatly written notes with a stack of completely useless doodles.

He flicked through them with mild amusement, then looked up at you.

"Do you think this will make me let you go?"

"Because if anything, it just makes me want to keep you closer."

This wasn’t working. No matter what you did, he remained unshaken.

If anything—

He was enjoying it.

It was time to change tactics.

If pranks and small annoyances didn’t faze him, then maybe something else would. Something that would actually get under his skin.

So, when your friend—someone completely uninvolved in the chaos of your life—offered to hang out after school, you took it a step further.

"Let’s fake date."

Your friend blinked. "What?"

"Just in public," you said quickly. "Just enough to make someone mad."

They raised a brow. "Someone?"

You didn’t answer.

And that’s how you found yourself walking down the street, laughing a little too loudly, leaning in just enough to make it look intimate. Your friend played along, nudging your shoulder, whispering things that weren’t remotely romantic but would look like it from an outsider’s perspective.

And, of course—

Jing Yuan was watching.

You felt it before you even saw him. When you finally glanced over, he was there.

His golden eyes were locked onto you.

And in that moment, you realized—

You had seriously messed up.

Your friend was still talking, still playing along, but you couldn’t focus. Your pulse quickened as Jing Yuan started walking toward you.

Step by step.

He stopped just a few feet away, gaze flicking lazily between you and your so-called "date."

"I wasn’t aware you had such… interesting tastes, Y/N."

Your friend tensed beside you.

"We’re just—"

Jing Yuan raised a hand, stopping you.

"You’re testing me," he murmured, voice dropping just enough that only you could hear. "How cute."

Jing Yuan took another step forward, forcing you to tilt your head to keep eye contact.

"But tell me, Y/N…" His smile widened. "How far are you willing to go?"

You knew it was reckless. Dangerous, even. But if Jing Yuan wanted to play mind games, then fine—you’d play, too. So, without breaking eye contact, without hesitating for even a second—

You turned to your friend and pressed a kiss to their cheek.

It was brief, barely anything, but it was enough.

You felt your friend tense under your touch, caught between confusion and amusement, but you didn’t look at them. You didn’t need to.

Because all your focus was on him.

Jing Yuan’s smile didn’t waver, but something in his eyes shifted.

For the first time, you saw the cracks in his carefully controlled mask.

And that’s when you knew—

You had won this round.

Or so you thought.

Jing Yuan exhaled slowly, stepping even closer, until there was barely any space left between you. Your friend stiffened beside you, clearly sensing something off, but neither of you dared to move.

"You really shouldn’t have done that....But don’t worry… I’ll make sure you never feel the need to do it again."

And with that, he stepped back, flashing you one last unreadable smile before turning on his heel and walking away.

Leaving you standing there, pulse hammering, as you realized—

You may have just made things worse.

You stopped going to school.

At first, it wasn’t intentional. You had skipped one day to clear your head, to shake off the lingering weight of his presence.

But then one day turned into two. Then three. Then a full week.

And you realized—

You didn’t have to go back.

Expulsion? Detention? Consequences? You didn’t care anymore. If staying away meant being free from him, then so be it.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe.

Until the knocking on your front door shattered that illusion.

You knew who it was before you even opened it.

And yet, when you finally swung the door open, Jing Yuan was standing there.

"You’ve been absent, I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

"What do you want?"

Jing Yuan sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I came to deliver a message."

"What message?"

"Your friend."

Your breath caught.

"They got into a little accident yesterday," he mused. "Nothing too serious, of course. Just a little… fall."

Your fingers clenched around the doorframe. "You’re lying."

"Am I?" His gaze was unwavering. "You would know if you had been there."

Jing Yuan leaned in further, "Do you really think disappearing will make me forget about you?"

"I don’t mind waiting" he murmured. "But if you keep running…"

"…I might have to start pulling more people into this."

"You wouldn’t—"

Jing Yuan chuckled, straightening up. "Wouldn’t I?"

"I’ll see you at school tomorrow."

Just as you were about to slam the door shut, a hand shot out, stopping it effortlessly.

Your breath hitched as Jing Yuan stepped forward, closing the distance in one smooth motion. Before you could react, before you could even breathe, he leaned in—

And pressed a kiss to your cheek.

When he pulled back, he was smiling.

"Consider that my payback"

"You—"

"No need to look so flustered. You started this, didn’t you? See you tomorrow... And don’t be late."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there.

The next morning, you found yourself walking through the school gates because no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you knew. You had lost this game long ago. And when you reached the student council room, pushing the door open, Jing Yuan was already there, waiting—smiling like he knew you’d come. Like he had never once doubted it. As if every struggle, every rebellion, every desperate attempt to escape had only led you right back to him.

And the worst part?

You weren’t sure if you had walked in on your own—or if he had guided you here all along.

[simpforhatguy]

if it's not too much to ask can I req our general jingyuan for your lucky egg prompt?

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader

You weren’t expecting much when you used the Lucky Egg Dispenser—maybe a cute pet, maybe something rare if luck was on your side.

But when the machine whirred and spat out a large golden egg, heavier than the others, you knew something was different.

A small note was attached to it, written in elegant, unfamiliar script:

"Handle with the utmost care. Do not leave its side."

Was this a warning? A request? Either way, you didn't dare ignore it.

For three days, you kept the egg close—hugging it, sleeping with it nestled against your chest, carrying it everywhere. It was warm to the touch, almost alive, pulsing faintly like a slow heartbeat. Sometimes, you swore you heard a low, amused chuckle echo in your mind.

Then, on the third night, the egg cracked.

A golden glow flooded the room, and the warmth in your arms disappeared—replaced by something far larger.

Before you could react, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against a firm chest. A smooth, rich voice purred into your ear, dangerously close.

“Ah… You took such good care of me.”

Your heart pounded as you tilted your head up—

And met golden eyes, half-lidded with lazy amusement, yet darkened with something far more possessive.

He smiled, his grip on you unyielding.

“Now… allow me to return the favor.”

The warmth of the egg had always been comforting, but this—the sheer heat of the man now holding you—was something else entirely.

His grip on your waist remained firm, almost too secure, as if he had no intention of letting go. Slowly, he leaned back, allowing you just enough space to look up at him. Long silver-white hair, golden eyes glinting like molten metal.

A dream? No.

A nightmare? You weren’t sure yet.

“Jing Yuan” he introduced himself “That is my name. And you, little one, have taken care of me most diligently these past three days.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your lower back, a gesture so casual yet so intimate that it sent a shiver up your spine.

“You held me close… never once leaving my side.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, pleased—deeply satisfied. “I must say, such devotion is quite rare.”

Your body had been exhausted from three days straight of holding the egg, and now, wrapped in unexpected warmth, your exhaustion finally took over.

The last thing you remembered was the steady rhythm of Jing Yuan’s heartbeat and the way his arms felt so secure around you.

Morning came too fast.

Your eyes blinked open. You shifted slightly—only to realize you couldn’t move.

Jing Yuan was still there.

And he was clinging to you.

One arm curled around your waist, the other resting under your head, effectively caging you in. His breath was slow and steady, and even in sleep, he refused to let you go.

Then it hit you. Your relatives were visiting today.

Your heart lurched as you turned to the clock—late.

Panic surged through you. You tried to slip away, but the instant you moved, Jing Yuan tightened his hold.

“Mmm” he murmured groggily, burying his face into your neck. “Stay.”

“I can’t.” You struggled again, but he was far too strong.

Golden eyes cracked open, lazily watching you as if completely unbothered by your distress.

“Why rush?” he mused. “They can wait.”

You nearly screamed. “No, they can’t!”

Summoning all your strength, you dragged him to the door—his arms still wrapped around you. It was the only way you could even move properly.

Then you threw the door open.

And there they were.

Your relatives, standing outside, their expressions frozen. Eyes wide. Mouths slightly open.

They took in the scene—you, struggling against the embrace of an incredibly attractive white-haired man, his arms looped around your waist, his robe slightly loose, his expression filled with sleep-dazed affection.

A long, awkward silence.

Your cousin coughed. “Uh… should we come back later?”

Jing Yuan hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. “That would be ideal.”

You wanted to die on the spot.

Your uncle, Garreth, a renowned master of weapons, took one long look at Jing Yuan’s build—his broad shoulders, his refined yet powerful stance and nodded in approval.

“You. You’re built well.”

You groaned. “Uncle, don’t—”

But it was too late. Your uncle had already summoned a sigil in midair, golden energy swirling as it took form.

A guandao materialized.

Its long, ornate pole gleamed with intricate gold etchings, and the curved blade reflected the sunlight like liquid fire.

Jing Yuan finally released his iron grip on you, just slightly, as he reached for the weapon.

The moment his fingers closed around the guandao, the air shifted. A deep pulse of energy resonated through the ground. The weapon hummed in his grasp, almost as if recognizing him.

Jing Yuan spun it once, the heavy weapon moving effortlessly in his hands, before letting out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Oh? This suits me quite well.”

Your uncle grinned. “Perfect. Let’s test it out in a dungeon.”

“Wait, what?”

Jing Yuan turned to you, golden eyes gleaming with undeniable amusement, “You’ll come with me, won’t you?” His voice was smooth, coaxing.

There was no real room for refusal.

The portal shimmered as you and your relatives stepped into the testing dungeon—a vast expanse of ruins lit by glowing glyphs, the air thick with the presence of lurking monsters.

Jing Yuan walked beside you, his weapon resting lazily over his shoulder, his golden eyes scanning the area with a casual sharpness. Your uncle, already eager to see how the weapon performed, led the way, while your cousin, Lina, trailed behind—already looking way too reckless for your liking.

“Lina, dodge!” you shouted as a spectral beast lunged at her.

But instead of dodging, she charged headfirst, barely blocking the attack in time.

Your sigh was deep and exhausted.

You cast a quick buff on her, increasing her defense, and then immediately followed it up with a healing skill when she took a direct hit from another enemy.

Jing Yuan chuckled beside you, watching the scene unfold. “Is she always like this?”

You groaned. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Lina, undeterred by her near-death experience, grinned. “Come on! We’ve got a strong guy with us now. What’s there to worry about?”

Jing Yuan hummed in amusement. “Confidence is good. But recklessness?” He flicked his wrist, effortlessly slicing through a beast that had tried to sneak up on you. “That’s a bit more… troublesome.”

Lina stuck her tongue out but didn’t argue.

Your uncle, meanwhile, was completely absorbed in watching Jing Yuan fight.

Jing Yuan moved like a storm, sweeping through enemies with fluid, devastating arcs. He never seemed rushed, never seemed flustered—just calm, methodical, and effortlessly powerful.

Every swing of his weapon sent sparks flying, and each finishing move left behind the faint echo of a roaring lion.

Your uncle grinned like a madman. “Now that’s technique. Clean. Precise. Efficient.”

Lina, inspired, tried to copy his movements—only to trip and nearly eat dirt.

You sighed again, casting yet another heal. “Lina, please.”

Jing Yuan turned to you, tilting his head. “You’re quite good at supporting others.”

You shrugged. “Someone has to keep these people alive.”

His lips curled into a slow smile, his golden eyes glinting. “Indeed. But tell me—who takes care of you?”

You ignored the question and focused on healing Lina (again).

Jing Yuan simply watched, amused before gracefully slicing through another wave of enemies, his attacks suspiciously always keeping you within reach.

With the dungeon cleared, the atmosphere lightened as your group returned home.

Garreth was beyond satisfied with Jing Yuan’s performance. He had spent the entire walk back singing praises about the way the guandao handled in his hands, already talking about designing another custom weapon for him.

As soon as you stepped inside, Garreth clapped a hand on Jing Yuan’s shoulder.

“A warrior like you deserves a proper meal and a drink—or ten!”

You tried to object since it had been a long day, you just wanted to sleep, but between your uncle’s insistence and Jing Yuan’s easygoing agreement, there was no getting out of it.

One hour later.

The table was filled with empty bottles.

Your uncle? Completely drunk. His booming laughter had slowly turned into slurred mumbling, and eventually, he collapsed onto the table.

Lina sighed, shaking her head. “Every time.” She cracked her knuckles, then grabbed him by the arm, hoisting him up. “I’ll put him to bed before he starts snoring so loud the neighbors complain.”

That left you and Jing Yuan.

The air was quiet now, aside from the distant sounds of the night. Jing Yuan leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes watching you a little too intently.

“You prioritize others too much.”

You were caught off guard. “What?”

He swirled the drink in his glass lazily. “You heal your cousin, you support your uncle’s projects, you take care of everyone else—but when do you let someone take care of you?”

You frowned. “It’s not a big deal.”

Jing Yuan hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You say that, but I watched you today. You don’t hesitate to step in when someone else is in danger, but when it comes to yourself? You ignore it. You dismiss it.”

You didn’t respond, mostly because you didn’t know what to say.

He set his glass down, then leaned forward slightly, closer to you.

“If you won’t take care of yourself…” his voice was softer now, almost coaxing, “…then I will.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “You’ve only been here for a day.”

Jing Yuan smiled, slow and amused. “Three, actually. You did hold onto me for quite a while.”

Your face heated, and he chuckled at your reaction.

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

The words lingered between you, heavy in their meaning.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you moved around, preparing a simple breakfast. The morning was peaceful—until you overheard the conversation between your uncle and Jing Yuan.

They were sitting at the small table by the window, playing chess.

Your uncle had a focused expression, tapping his fingers against the table as he studied the board. Jing Yuan, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, golden eyes lazily watching his opponent’s movements.

“You’re good at this” Garreth finally muttered, moving a piece.

Jing Yuan smiled. “I try.”

There was a moment of silence as the game continued. Then, your uncle leaned back slightly, shooting you a glance before turning back to Jing Yuan.

“You know, I’d love to have you as their partner.”

You almost spilled your coffee.

Jing Yuan’s interest visibly piqued. His eyes flickered to you, then back to your uncle. “Oh? That’s quite the endorsement.”

Your uncle nodded. “Well, they need someone who can keep up with them. Someone strong, capable… dependable. I’d say you fit the bill.”

Jing Yuan made his next move on the chessboard, but his focus was clearly elsewhere now. “I see. And do they already have someone?”

Garreth waved a hand dismissively, “Oh, they already got themself—”

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly as if he just realized what he was saying.

Jing Yuan’s expression remained calm, but there was a subtle shift in his aura, his posture more attentive.

Your uncle coughed, attempting to correct himself. “I mean—uh—”

You sighed, setting your cup down. “They’re my ex, Uncle. Ex. Past tense.”

Jing Yuan’s gaze immediately snapped to you, interest deepening. “Oh?”

Your uncle scratched the back of his head. “Ah… my bad.”

Jing Yuan, however, seemed entirely unbothered. If anything—he looked pleased.

He moved his chess piece, “Check.”

Your uncle squinted at the chessboard, muttering curses under his breath as he realized his mistake. Meanwhile, you sat at the table, sipping your coffee, pretending that Jing Yuan wasn’t still watching you.

That small “Oh?” he had uttered earlier still lingered in your mind.

Your uncle, blissfully unaware of the subtle tension in the air, finally made his move—only for Jing Yuan to immediately checkmate him.

Garreth let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, I get it. You’re good. No need to rub it in.”

Jing Yuan chuckled. “It was an interesting match.”

His words were polite, but his focus remained on you.

“You didn’t mention an ex before” he mused, resting his chin against his hand.

“Because it’s not important.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly, a slow, thoughtful smile forming on his lips. “Not important to you, perhaps. But I find it rather interesting.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

He leaned forward just slightly. “Because it means you’re single.”

You almost choked on your coffee.

Your uncle laughed, completely missing the implications. “Hah! Well, that just means the spot’s open, doesn’t it?”

Jing Yuan didn’t even need to say anything—the way his golden eyes gleamed with amusement said enough.

You set your coffee down harder than necessary. “It’s not a competition, Uncle.”

Garreth shrugged. “Could be. If the right person comes along.”

Jing Yuan hummed, tapping his fingers lightly against the table. “That depends on how persistent the contender is, doesn’t it?”

You stared at him, then sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m going to finish breakfast.”

As you walked back toward the kitchen, you heard your uncle chuckle.

“I like this guy.”

And then, from Jing Yuan, came a smooth, almost teasing response “I think I do, too.”

After spending the whole day in the dungeon and dealing with your uncle and cousin’s antics, you were completely drained. You bid farewell to your relatives, watching as your uncle patted Jing Yuan’s shoulder one last time before they finally left.

As soon as the door closed, you let out a deep sigh, rolling your shoulders. Why were you getting exhausted so quickly these days?

Shaking off the thought, you plopped onto the sofa and turned on the TV, flipping to the news. You barely heard it. Your body felt unnaturally heavy, exhaustion creeping into your bones. Within moments, your eyes fluttered shut, and you drifted into deep sleep.

Jing Yuan, who had remained inside, quietly approached the sofa.

His golden eyes flickered toward the TV screen, just as he was about to turn it off, the broadcast displayed maps of dungeon activity, strange energy fluctuations… and then a list of affected individuals.

Your name was on it.

Jing Yuan’s relaxed demeanor didn’t change, but his fingers tightened slightly on the remote.

How curious.

His gaze shifted back to you—asleep, unaware, vulnerable.

For a brief moment, he simply watched you, his mind piecing things together. Then, he finally switched off the TV, plunging the room into silence.

He stepped closer, crouching beside you.

“So fragile…” he murmured, almost to himself. “Yet, something unusual lingers around you.”

The room was silent except for the faint sound of your breathing.

Jing Yuan remained seated beside the sofa, studying you with the same careful patience he used when strategizing on the battlefield. He had spent his life mastering the art of waiting, of letting his prey lower their guard before making his move.

You, however, had already lowered yours without realizing it.

You trusted too easily. Even after everything—you still let him stay, still let him close. How fortunate for him. He had noticed it before—the exhaustion, the unusual way you drained energy.

And now, the news confirmed it.

Something was interfering with you.

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly. Could it be an external force? Or perhaps—something inside you?

His fingers barely grazed your palm before you shifted in your sleep, your body instinctively pulling away. Even unconscious, you resisted—just a little.

How endearing.

His lips curled into an amused smile as he stood. Carefully, he slid one arm beneath your legs, the other supporting your back, and lifted you effortlessly.

You barely stirred as he carried you to your room.

When morning arrived, you awoke feeling oddly well-rested.

For the first time in days, your limbs didn’t feel like lead. You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

Then, you noticed it.

A chair had been pulled close to your bed. And there, sitting comfortably as if he belonged, was Jing Yuan—waiting.

His golden eyes met yours immediately, as if he had known the exact moment you would wake up.

“Morning” he greeted lazily, a teasing edge in his tone. “You slept quite well, didn’t you?”

You stared at him, still processing. "…Why are you here?"

Jing Yuan stretched, completely unbothered. “Watching over you, of course.”

“That’s not necessary.”

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “Isn’t it?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I feel fine now. So you can stop acting like my personal bodyguard.”

Jing Yuan didn’t answer right away. He simply smiled.

Then, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“If you say so” he mused.

----

The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV. You lay curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, completely unaware of the faint traces of blood and burnt fabric on Jing Yuan’s coat as he silently stepped inside. His golden eyes flickered over you, scanning your peaceful expression before shifting to the TV screen.

The news had moved on to another topic—political disputes, interstellar trade negotiations—nothing of interest to him. But earlier? He had seen it.

The dungeon anomaly.

He had felt it through the bond you shared.

Your exhaustion, the unnatural way your energy drained—he had known it wasn’t normal. So while you rested, unaware, he had gone to the source.

And he had handled it.

His fingers twitched slightly, recalling the creatures he had encountered—their movements erratic, their existence unnatural. Something had been leeching off you, siphoning your strength without you even realizing it.

Not anymore.

Jing Yuan exhaled softly, shaking off the remnants of the battle before stepping closer. He crouched beside the sofa, watching you.

His hand brushed against your wrist, his thumb grazing the pulse point beneath your skin. It was steadier now.

For a moment, he simply observed. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he murmured, “You never even noticed, did you?”

His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a little too long.

“As long as I’m here, I won’t let anything touch you again.”

Just as Jing Yuan reached to turn off the TV, a soft mechanical chime echoed through the room.

[BOND STATUS: ACTIVE]

His golden eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to the notice board, which had flickered on with a soft blue glow. The system—an extension of the egg bond—displayed a list of missions, each one tied to your well-being.

[Current Bond Status: 72%]

[Mission List Updated]

• Ensure the bonded individual eats a full meal (+2%)

• Improve the bonded individual’s physical condition (+3%)

• Eliminate external stressors (+5%)

• Reinforce emotional reliance (+10%)

Jing Yuan’s gaze lingered on that last one.

Reinforce emotional reliance.

The system was clear. Completing these tasks wouldn’t just strengthen the bond—it would tilt it further in his favor.

It would make you depend on him more.

He leaned back slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “How convenient.”

He had already eliminated the threat in the dungeon. Now, all that was left was to secure his place by your side.

He tapped the notice board lightly with a gloved finger. “I suppose I’ll be keeping busy.”

Jing Yuan wasted no time.

The missions were simple, really. If he was careful, strategic—he could complete them without you ever suspecting a thing. And the results were already beginning to show.

—Ensure the bonded individual eats a full meal (+2%)

At first, you had been too exhausted to care about proper meals. You would grab whatever was quick, or forget to eat entirely. Jing Yuan, of course, noticed.

So he started cooking for you.

It worked. The food was good—far better than you had expected—and soon, you stopped questioning it. You ate every bite. And just like that, another point was secured.

—Improve the bonded individual’s physical condition (+3%)

You rarely exercised, and your body had been sluggish ever since the exhaustion set in. Jing Yuan fixed that too. It started subtly. A casual walk together after meals. A stretch before you sat too long at your desk. And eventually—sparring.

“It’s just practice��� he said, handing you a wooden staff, his golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “I’ll go easy on you.”

You had scoffed at first, but the training worked. Slowly, you felt better, stronger. You even started to rely on his guidance.

Jing Yuan thrived on that.

—Eliminate external stressors (+5%)

This was where things became more delicate.

Your days had been filled with stress—work, responsibilities, people. Jing Yuan made sure those were no longer a problem.

Suddenly, the overbearing requests, the bothersome messages—they all seemed to disappear.

And you, unknowingly, started leaning closer to him.

It was subtle at first. The way your body gravitated toward his warmth when you were tired. How your fingers lingered just a second longer when handing him something.

But the true confirmation came one night.

You were exhausted, drained. Without thinking, you collapsed onto the couch, only to feel a firm warmth beside you.

Jing Yuan didn’t move as you curled against his side.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Tired again?”

You mumbled something incoherent, already halfway asleep.

Jing Yuan took his chance. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing the lightest kiss against the top of your head.

You didn’t pull away.

And that was everything.

Jing Yuan closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

----

The day was peaceful. You sat beside Jing Yuan on the couch, absentmindedly sipping your drink as he flipped through the channels on the TV.

Everything was calm—until the notification popped up.

[BOND STATUS: 86%] [New Mission Available]

The glowing system board flickered in front of him, its message clear as day. Jing Yuan tensed, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

He turned to you, searching your face for any sign of recognition, but you were completely unbothered.

“…Did you see that?” he asked carefully.

You blinked at him. “See what?”

You couldn’t see it.

The realization sent a slow, satisfied warmth through his chest. This system, this bond—it was for him alone.

“Nothing. Must’ve been my imagination.”

You shrugged and went back to what you were doing, while Jing Yuan turned his attention back to the screen.

The mission list was still there.

[New Mission: Deepen the bond through physical intimacy (+10%)]

How interesting.

Jing Yuan had always been patient. He knew when to pull, when to wait, when to let you come to him on your own.

But now?

The system had given him permission.

The bond was already tightening, wrapping around you like an invisible thread—unseen, unfelt, yet inescapable. You clung to him more and more, sought his presence without even realizing it.

And tonight, he would make sure you would never want to be anywhere else.

The night was quiet, the only sound in your home being the faint hum of the air as you shifted in your seat. You had been tired again. Jing Yuan had noticed it immediately—how your body seemed heavier, your posture looser, your defenses down. You didn't question it when he pulled you toward him, settling you onto his lap with practiced ease.

You never questioned him anymore.

“Relax” he murmured, his voice smooth as he pressed his lips to your temple. His hands traced slow, lazy circles against your back, warm through the fabric of your clothes. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much again.”

You sighed, melting against him.

It was so easy. So easy to let him hold you, to sink into his warmth, to let him touch you as if he had always belonged to you.

His fingers trailed lower, ghosting over your hips, tracing the shape of you with unhurried confidence. He felt the way your breath hitched, the way your hands gripped his shoulders just a little tighter.

His voice was laced with amusement as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the side of your neck. “You’ve been clinging to me so much lately… have you noticed?”

You stiffened slightly.

You hadn’t.

Jing Yuan chuckled at your silence, one hand tilting your chin up to meet his golden gaze.

“Don’t worry.” His lips barely brushed against yours, his breath warm, teasing. “I don’t mind.”

And then he kissed you.

He swallowed the tiny gasp you made, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, closer, as if he could merge you into himself.

“… Just let me take care of you”

You didn’t resist.

You never did.

And that?

That was exactly how he wanted you.

[simpforhatguy]

Petty Compensation

prompt. you accidentally take the wrong drink order, and the actual owner demands a sip as compensation

characters. scaramouche / wanderer x gn!reader

tags. modern au, attempt at humor

warnings. none

You don’t notice your mistake at first.

The cafe is busy, and you're distracted. Probably by the group of students arguing over a project in the corner or the fact that you only got four hours of sleep last night. Either way, you hear your name being called, or at least, you think it was yours.

Without giving it much thought, you grab the cup from the counter, take a sip, and wince at the unexpected bitterness. Still, you don’t question it and head back to your seat like nothing’s wrong. The cafe is packed and the staff seem overwhelmed that the barista doesn’t even notice who took the drink.

It’s not until someone clears their throat in front of you that you realize something might be off.

“That’s mine.”

You glance up, only to be met with sharp indigo eyes staring you down. The guy in front of you has striking deep blue hair, sharp jawline, and an expression that somehow manages to be both bored and vaguely irritated at the same time. He gestures toward the cup in your hand. “You took my drink.”

You blink at him, then at the cup. Then at him again.

Oh.

In your defense, it looks like your order. You squint at the scribbled name on the side, and sure enough, it’s not yours.

Kunikusushi, it says.

Either his parents had a grudge against him, or the barista completely butchered the spelling.

Still, regardless of how his name is written on the cup, one thing is clear. You already drank from it, which means—

“Oops?” you offer sheepishly.

His brow twitches. “Oops?”

“order for [name]!” the barista calls out.

You glance toward the counter, where another identical cup sits unattended. Your actual order.

You stand up to take it from the counter and offer it to the stranger. His intense stare burns into you the entire time. Shifting under the weight of it, you clear your throat. “Um, sorry. You can take mine instead?”

He looks unimpressed, eyeing the cup with clear disapproval. “My drink is made exactly how I like it. And you’ve contaminated it. I’d take it back but what if you have some kind of disease?”

“I don’t,” you deadpan.

He shrugs. “Can’t be sure.”

“Are you serious?”

He exhales through his nose, gaze flicking to the cup in your hands. “Fine,” he says, holding out a hand. “Give it here.”

You blink. “Wait, what—”

“If I can’t have mine untouched, I want compensation,” he says. “You took a sip of my drink. I’m taking one of yours.”

You gape at him. “That’s literally the same thing you were just complaining about.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s my choice.” He scoffs. “Give it.”

You hesitate but ultimately sigh, handing the cup over. He takes it, and without breaking eye contact, he lifts it to his lips and takes a slow sip.

Your brain short-circuits for a second.

As he swallows, immediately, his nose scrunches in utter disgust. “Ugh. How do you drink this?” He sets the cup on your free hand and glares at it like it personally offended him. “It’s sickeningly sweet.”

You raise a brow. “No one forced you to drink it, asshole.”

“Tch.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still grimacing. “Consider yourself lucky. I’m feeling merciful today.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Merciful?”

“You should be grateful I didn’t make you buy me a new one.” He smirks, sharp and infuriating.

You roll your eyes, but before you can throw a retort, he steps back, grabbing his actual drink from your hand.

“I’m taking this back. Try not to steal from me next time, thief.”

You sputter out incoherent words in disbelief. He could’ve just taken it from the start. “Petty!” You say back but he ignores you.

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you flustered, annoyed, and (frustratingly) just a little bit intrigued.

Wait. Next time?

You glance down at your drink and feel a small scrap of paper, torn from what looks like a receipt, clinging to the cup’s condensation. Scribbled across it in messy handwriting and bleeding ink is a string of numbers. His number.

Your cheeks flush and your mouth gapes.

Instinctively, your gaze flicks to the exit, searching for him. He’s already by the door, his own drink in hand, but just before stepping out, he glances over his shoulder.

The moment your eyes meet, he smirks. He knows you’ve found it. Then, without a word, he turns and disappears into the crowd outside.

You stare after him. Your heart knocking once against your ribs, skipping a beat.

Did he plan that from the start?

note. just a little something haha you can tell kuni is my favorite character to write. thank you for reading ^^ feel free to send asks! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

© lmvari do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works on any platform.