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monzamash · 2 months ago

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wouldn't dream of it lando norris x reader rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, angst) requested by anon for monzamusings ✨

“What are you doing here, Lando?”

“I just needed to see you.”

Things had been good with Lando. You’d started dating a couple of months ago after being set up by a mutual friend who swore up and down that you were made for each other. And she was right for a time, over winter break when life was easy, no real responsibility or commitment needed to keep whatever it was between the two of you simmering away.

Fuelled by passion and lust with a dash of attachment. He was at your place every night nearly, besides Christmas day when you both agreed taking time away from family for a hook up was absurd. He was back in your bed the day after Boxing day, and working you over until New Years Eve, just the two of you tangled up in the sheets, closed off from the rest.

But then you flew to Monaco to see his world. Big mistake.

It felt enormous. The constant attention and the anxiety, knowing that fans were sneakily taking photos at every opportunity, which always ended up on the silly gossip pages. And they were silly to begin with, salaciously lying about who you were and what you and Lando were until it got under you skin. Stomach churning.

There seemed to be a direct line of online hate funnelled your way and at first you promised Lando you could stomach it, until you couldn’t. It didn’t take long until reality seeped in, cold and harsh, tarnishing something that was so beautiful. It wasn't labelled but it could be in time, if his life was different – if he was a different person.

Lando could feel you slipping away so he tried to bring you into his weird and wonderful world, to show you that it wasn’t so scary. But the more he introduced you to his "racing friends" and explained what a "paddock walk" was, the further you retreated and you knew a line needed to be drawn in the sand. Before it was too late.

Before it was too hard to let him go.

It was callous in retrospect – a handwritten note left on his kitchen counter and slipping into an uber to Nice in the dead of the night. Cruel, really but necessary, you lied to yourself. Lando wanted to be surprised, he did. But everything you had written was true, he knew deep down that his life was fucking stressful, he didn't need reminding or how harsh people could be about the women involved with him and if it were anyone else, he would've slipped the letter in the rubbish bin and moved on.

But you were worth fighting for. And so here he was, on your doorstep in Shoreditch at 11pm on a Tuesday. It’s a wonder you answered the door but maybe there was a part of you that hoped it was him. Glassy eyed and dishevelled from the flight.

“I got your voicemails, I know where you stand but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you call me back?” Lando asked, the crease in his brow permanently furrowed in confusion.

“Because everything I needed to say was in the letter.”

“What? This letter?” He scoffed, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out the piece of paper he had been carrying since the day you left. Battered and torn.

“All this tells me is that you’re scared to let me in and fine! I get that but if theres even a tiny part of you that wants me –wants us to try and make it work, then tell me because I want this…” Lando stepped forward, making his intentions clear.

“I want you.”

“It’s not that simple,” You sighed, hands instinctively reaching for him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you both inside.

You wanted him more than anything.

“I know it’s not, baby,” He whispered back while you pushed the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, “But we’re so good together… God, you’re beautiful.”

Lando took a second to bathe in your beauty before tangling you in a fierce kiss, one that had you clutching his shirt even harder, dragging his pliant body towards your bedroom. He knew the way – every wall you came into contact with bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your bed, needy kisses between sharp inhales of breath.

“I missed you so much, Lan.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more.” Lando whimpered as he hovered above and nestled himself between your thighs, hands roaming every inch of skin presented to him.

The need to have him was bubbling over as you took him in your hand and guided him to where you needed, eyes squeezed shut as he fell forward, trembling arms holding up his aching body, “That’s so fucking good, baby – ugh, so tight f’me.”

You moaned in response as Lando slowly rocked forward, grappling with the surge of pleasure rushing to your core and the relief washing from your limbs. He was your missing puzzle piece and everything else was background noise, dulled when you had him like this – whimpering and moaning sweet nothings in your ear. Silver chains tangled between you as he pressed his greedy lips to your chest, leaving small bites as a reminder of his adoration and desire.

“I need you, you know?” Lando purred into your ear as you held him close, fingers sprawled across his perspiring back as he fucked you deep, “These last couple of weeks have been hell without you… hated waking up alone and not having you beside me… not being able to hear your voice… I'm down so fucking bad.”

His soft voice was breaking as the first droplets fell to your neck, “I know what it’s like now to lose you and I won’t ever take you for granted, I swear on my life…”

Lando's sobs were quick to wrack his chest as you pulled him down, taking his full body weight in your embrace. He couldn't help but succumb to the emotions that had bottled up and finally spilled, every single worry dissipating as you held him close and soothed his tears with a soft hum.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby – I’m here…” You cooed, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls and trying your hardest to keep it together. But you could feel the welling in your eyes, heartbroken for the man in your arms and the pain you had caused, no matter how much you believed you had done the right thing at the time.

“I know you’ve been dealing with so much and I never wanted to walk away – I just… I didn’t know what to do because I could feel myself falling for you but what I was too stupid to realise was that I was already in love with you – I think I have been since the moment we met…”

Lando craned his neck, just enough to catch a glimpse of your beautiful eyes boring into his own – sincerity in every fleck. A small smile stretched across his face as he rested his forehead on yours, “I’m in love with you too. Have been since day one.”

The smiles on your faces couldn’t have been any wider as Lando pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your pouting lips. You couldn’t help but giggle as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss on your sensitive skin.

“You loooove me,” He sang, tickling your ribs with his eager hands before flipping onto his back and pulling you on top.

“Oh, so I’m finishing us off, am I?”

“Yeah, I’m tired from the crying,” He shrugged and clutched your hips, playfully rutting them against his own. The moan that fell from your throat betrayed your mind, body and soul and Lando simply smirked, forever pleased with the effect he had on you.

“If you weren’t so sexy I would leave you like this,” You teased back, rolling back and forth, edging both of you like a woman on a mission.

“Please don’t ever leave me again,” Lando moaned, gripping tighter with every tantalising movement.

You shook your head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

a/n – did i keep it under 1k words? of course not lol but hope you enjoyed x more f1 writing awaits ...

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #monzamusings ✨#monzamashmasterlist #f1 blurbs #lando norris x you

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cosmicalily · 16 days ago

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"pilates princess" a changbin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i was talking to @thevampywolf this morning about how there's a proper lack of changbin fluff fics on tumblr atm and i decided to make it my mission of the day to change that! i absolutely love binnie, he's the silliest, sweetest guy and i was thinking of how to blend his gym obsession with his adorable personality, and a (very much so in love) pilates princess was born!!

Seo Changbin did not have time for girls.

According to his roommate, Han Jisung, his one and only true love was the gym, where he spent almost every spare second of his day. His diet consisted of protein powder, chicken breasts, green smoothies and instant ramen. He only drank cold brews with absolutely no sugar, because he couldn’t stand sweet things.

He was pretty quiet and some would say intimidating. Didn’t say a lot, didn’t do a lot.

But now, watching you, he felt something different. He felt strange. He felt soft.

Changbin looked over at you curiously from the bench press, pausing to catch his breath for a moment as you stretched your body like a cat, toes pointed, shoulders straight.

Dressed in a pale pink sports bra with a matching long-sleeved ballet wrap and black leggings, to say you looked a little out of place in a predominantly male gym was an understatement. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, a sticker-decorated drink bottle by the side of your mat and an iced milky-green drink beside it.

You breathed slowly, stretching your arms forward and touching your toes before sitting straight, cocking your head at your one-man audience.

“Why are you watching me?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, self-consciously placing a hand over your chest. “I’m here for the exact same reason as you, it’s not my fault the girls’ dorms don’t have a gym.”

Changbin flushed. “I’m sorry. It probably seemed creepy, fuck, it’s not, I promise. I’m just . . . curious. What were you doing? I’ve never seen anyone exercise like that. Everyone who comes in either beats the shit out of the boxing bag or lifts.”

“Pilates,” you smiled, looking less uncomfortable. “I got my instructing licence a bit ago, but the place I teach at is only open in the mornings. So if I’ve had an early class or lecture and want to work out in the afternoon, I have to come here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here voluntarily. You guys are gross.”

He pouted. “I’m not. I’m cute.”

“Yeah, sure you are, princess,” you chuckled, taking a sip from the green drink. You noticed him looking at it. “It’s matcha, do you want some?”

“Fuck no, my friend said that tastes like grass,” Changbin shook his head furiously.

You laughed at him, inching the cup closer to him. “C’mon, try a sip. You’ll like this one, it’s sweet. I always get vanilla in it since I can’t stand bitter drinks.”

He very cautiously leaned forward, looking at you carefully in case you recoiled when he pressed his lips on the straw. You didn’t, seeming less and less shy by the second, watching him eagerly as he swallowed.

“...and the verdict is?” you prompted.

“Where can I get my own?”

Jisung looked around Changbin’s room in shock, eyes comically wide as he took in his surroundings. Sure, it had been a week while he’d been staying with his parents, but surely Changbin’s life hadn’t changed so . . . drastically? Or had he somehow been invaded by some kind of pink fairy?

A pale pink sports bra lay strewn on Changbin’s bed, accompanied by a pair of soft grey flared leggings and a drink bottle. There was a handbag too, with ribbons and cute fluffy keychains, all belongings that most certainly were not his. But there were slightly more permanent looking changes, too. A pink MyMelody sticker on Changbin’s previously pristine laptop. A little beaded bow charm on his duffle bag. Two polaroids pinned above his bed; one of a girl making a kissy face, another of her with Changbin, pinching his cheek as he beamed at her adoringly.

Did Seo Changbin have a girlfriend?

And why wasn’t she a black-donning, gym obsessed weirdo like he was?

“Oh hi, Ji, you’re back!” Changbin smiled wide, something that Jisung swore he had never seen in all his time being his roommate. Or at least, not for a very long time. But Changbin had a whole different air about him; his body, although still buff, didn’t seem as tense as it usually was. His brow wasn’t furrowed and there was colour in his cheeks. And, for the love of God, had he blow dried his hair?

Jisung smiled back. “Hey, Bin. What are you drinking? New protein powder?”

“It’s a vanilla matcha, you should try it,” he handed it to Jisung, who took a tentative sip then stared, open-mouthed in shock.

“That’s . . . sweet.”

“No shit,” Changbin laughed at him, thumping his friend on the back. “It’s good, right? Y/N introduced me to them.”

Jisung handed it back, still suspicious that the real Seo Changbin had been abducted and that the man in front of him was a secret twin. “Oh, nice. Is that her stuff in your room?”

“Sure is,” a sweet voice chuckled from behind Changbin. A petite girl flew through the door, wrapping her arms tight around Changbin’s waist. “I’m Y/N, Jisung. It’s nice to finally meet you! Binnie’s told me so much about you two.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re . . . ?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Changbin said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, but he’s the babygirl. Everyone knows that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “He’s a pilates princess now, Jisung, I’ve converted him. Surprised he wasn’t doing it earlier; it’s very him, you know.”

Jisung blinked slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Seo Changbin? A princess?” he mumbled.

“Sure I am,” Changbin shrugged, and Jisung promptly fainted in shock.

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divinesolas · 5 months ago

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Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond

a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two

Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.

They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.

The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.

You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.

“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”

He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.

He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.

“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”

Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.

With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.

You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.

despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.

“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.

You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.

“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.

“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”

“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”

“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”

He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.

“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”

he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.

“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.

you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.

“you’re pathetic.”

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #house of the dragon #aemond smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #prince aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader

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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year ago

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Yan!Mean-Girls x Fem!Reader

"Just Girly Things"

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Bullying (Not at Reader), name callung, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, masturbation, sex toys, mean girls, dumbification, buying affection.

(AN: I'm not super proud of this one, but did my best. Never written a fem!Yan before.)

The sound of clicking keypads and the occasional scoff can be heard in Maggie Robinsons loft bedroom. As the most popular girl at Delta High, it was important her room look as perfect as her. She chews on the strawberry flavored gum in her mouth, scrolling through her phone. She scoffs. "Sasha, did you see Jenny Taylor's latest post?" Sasha gags and nods. "Totally a spray-on tan." Sasha says, and Maggie nods. "She looks like a fucking orange. I bet you that nerd she's been with, his dick is that same shade right now..." The two cackle.

"Is he sick?" The third and final member of the group of cheerleaders asks. "Why would his dick be orange?" Sasha sighs, and puts a hand on her friends knee. "Lindsey, his dick is orange because her fake tan would rub off on it. It isn't like, permanently that color. It was a joke." Sasha explains. Lindsey pauses and tilts her head, before giggling. "Oh, I get it!" She claps her hands together, shaking the sequinned bracelet around her wrist as she does so. Maggie grins and roll her eyes at Lindsey's air-headed nature. Luckily, Sasha is always around to explain he jokes, because Maggie won't. She likes to watch her dumb subordinate work things out slowly.

"What about you, newbie? Ever had a fake tan?" She whips her head over to face you. You gulp as the school's queen bee sets her sights on you. You aren't sure why she seemed so fixated on you since you joined Delta High. Maybe it's because you were pretty, or talented, or just really obedient, but she's been dragging you around like a little purse dog since you met her, with Sasha and Lindsey flanking you both at all times. "Um, no." You mumble. She nods, and says "Good, you already have good skin. I mean, you should get a little more tan, but not with that shitty spray stuff. Or, y'know, you'll turn some jocks dick orange." The three laugh. "Because the tan rubs off!" Lindsey giggles. Maggie rolls her eyes, and groans. "Yes, Lindsey. Thanks for explaining." Lindsey looks down.

"Speaking of, have any of the guys at school caught your eye? I mean, like, appropriate ones for you. Not a fucking mathlete dork or something." She asks. "Not really. I've never actually had a boyfriend." The three girls freeze, and gasp. "Seriously?" "You've never had a boyfriend?" Maggie asks. She waves frantically, trying to get you to sit beside her on her bed. "Why not?" She asks. "Do you have a sex disease? Like... like cancer?" Lindsey asks, eyes wide. "Sex cancer, seriously?" Sasha says, glancing at her blonde friend, who only shrugs. "No one was ever interested, I guess." You grimace. You hadn't ever been popular, only making Maggie's interest in you more jarring. You had finally gotten a peek at what it was like to be school royalty.

"Not interested? Aw, you poor baby." Maggie pouts. "That's why you have us, you know? To doll you up, and keep you popular, that way you can have anyone you want." Sasha chirps. "I can't believe no one ever tried to get with you, you're like, really pretty." You smile awkwardly. "Thanks, Lindsey."

Maggie scoots closer, and you bite back a gasp when you feel her cold hands on your tank top, cupping your breasts. "Honestly. The jocks at school are horndogs, they'll stick it in anything, I'm surprised you haven't gotten any attention because of these." She bites her lips as her eyes wander down to your cleavage. "They're natural, right?" You nod. You feel the bed dip behind you, as Sasha and Lindsey join the two of you on the bed. "So you've never kissed anybody?" Sasha asks, tilting her head as her curls bounce. "No, I've kissed a boy, back in church in like, middle school or something." You chuckle, shrugging and rolling your eyes.

"What about kissing girls?" Your eyes widen. You shake your head as you feel the three girls gazes resting heavily on you. "I haven't. Why do you ask?" Maggie grins. "You could try with us. You're one of us now, you've gotta live a little. I mean, you haven't even had a boyfriend, or done it with someone. Let us help you." She coos. She leans in, and you gulp. "Don't you have a boyfriend, Maggie? Jason, right?" She asks. Maggie nods. "Yeah, but like, he won't care. He'll probably think this is hot or something. Besides, it's just girls helping each other out. It's not like a random hookup, we're all friends here." She feigns hurt at your hesitance, pouting. "Don't you like us?" Lindsey whines, giving you puppy dog eyes as she rests her head on your shoulder from behind. "No, I like you guys, it's just-" You look at Lindsey. "Alright, we can do this." You sigh. Maggie grins, and puts her hands on your waist, pressing her chest to yours. "Good, it's not even weird. It's like, just girly things." She explains. She bites your lip playfully, making you blush as she finally presses her lips to yours. As you kiss the school's queen bee, you can taste the light strawberry flavor of her gum, and as she pulls away a string of sticky lip gloss connects your lips for a moment.

"See? You did good, especially for someone who's only kissed once before." Maggie coos. Lindsey pops up to kiss your cheek. "Your skin is so soft!" She giggles, nuzzling your neck. Sasha sits to the side, waiting for orders from Maggie. "Lemme see your chest." Maggie begins to tug up your tight, white tanktop, grinning when she sees that you have no bra on. "No bra, huh? Maybe you wanted us to do this?" She teases. "Pretty..." She circles her fingers around your left nipple, watching it pebble up. "I bet you're sensitive, huh?" Sasha asks. You can't speak, and only nod. Maggie's cold hands make you shiver, as she gropes your breasts with a wicked grin. She reaches down and puts Lindsey's hands on your breasts. "Lindsey, keep playing with her tits, okay? I'm gonna move a little lower." Lindsey nods, fondling your breasts from behind. "I'll try not to scratch you, my nails are kinda long right now..." She giggles. Maggie hikes up your skirt, keeping it around your waist. She licks her lips as she touches the black panties covering your cunt. "Are these from that department store on 9th?" She asks. "Uh, yeah?" She rolls her eyes. "You don't need to be wearing that shit, that's for people like Jenny Taylor, not girls like us. Tell you what-" She leans closer to your ear, kissing the shell of it. "You make me cum, and I'll take you downtown tomorrow and buy you something cute. That's sure to help you get a guy." She obviously has no intentions of getting you a boyfriend, considering the way her gaze turns possessive. Still, she can't deny that she likes the idea of seeing you in something lacey, especially something she bought you. She notices from the corner of her eye how Sasha is squirming, clearly eager to act, rubbing her thighs together subconsciously.

"Sasha?" Her head perks up immediatly, and she stills. "Y-yes, Maggie?" She pants. "Go get my wand, the pink one." Sasha nods, and scurries over to Maggie's closet, digging around for something. She manages to pull out a pink wand, with a microphone-like rubber tip. You can feel Maggies fingers trying to pull your panties to the side. "You ever played with yourself?" She whispers. You nod. "Yeah, a few times." You admit. "How?" She presses an index against your aroused clit. You gasp. "Fingers! I use my fingers, inside me." You moan. She pouts again, as Sasha hands her the wand. "Well, no wonder your little clit is so swollen, you've not been giving it any attention." She coos. "Don't worry, I've got just the thing." She takes the wand from Sasha. "It feels so good." Sasha says, her eyes full of sincerity. You wonder just how many times these girls have done this sort of thign. Does anyone else at school know?

You are torn from your thoughts when you hear a whirring sound. "What's that gonna do?" You ask. "It vibrates, and I'm just gonna press it right up against your clit, okay? It's gonna feel so fucking good..." She groans. "But, I'm going to enjoy something too. You know, for being such a good friend, and taking in a little newbie. You watch as Maggie mounts your thigh, gasping when you feel her slick pussy press against your leg. Has she not been wearing underwear this whole time? Your whole body flinches when you feel a pusling wave in your lower. "A-ah, shit." You grip the sheets of Maggie's bed tightly. Somehow, the stimulation to your clit makes Lindsey's pawing at your chest feel even more pleasurable. Maggie chuckles as she begins to grind herself against your thigh. "Feels good, huh? You like that? Your pretty new friends taking good care of you? Putting a pretty vibrator on your clit?" Her condescedngin tone makes you blush in shame. After a while, her moans grow in volume too. "Fuck, even just your thighs feel good. Maybe, god- maybe soon I'll ride your pussy like this." She groans. "God, not even Jason makes me feel this hot, this wet. That little limp-dick, can't even make me finish." She tilts her head back. "Sasha, take a photo, m' boutta cum." Sasha pales. "I don't... um, can I use you phone, mines dead?" Maggie doesn't open her eyes, but Sasha can sense her rage. "I don't care, just taking the fuckin' photo, I'm so close. C'mon, baby. Cum on my vibrator, I'll buy you something, anything, just do it." You weren't expecting to her Maggie beg for anything in your lifetime, much less for you to cum. Overwhelmed, you feel your orgasm hit hard. "M-maggie, I'm, oh..." She nods rapidly as she practically bounces on your thigh. "Yeah, right there, I'm cumming to..." She pants.

You close your eyes, but still sense a flash of light from Sasha snapping a photo. As your legs shake from the feeling, Maggie casually dismounts your thighs, sitting down on the bed beside you. She kisses your forehead. "You did so good. I'll get you something so cute to wear to school next week." She flips her hair and acts nonchalant, as if she hadn't just held a sex toy to your cunt while she rode your thigh like her life depended on it. "Sasha, let me see that photo." Sasha shows her the phone, and she grimaces. "Ugh, I look so fucking pale. Put a Sepia filter on it or something." Before Sasha can, Lindsay snatches the phone, and lets out a whine.

"Only my hands are in it! What the hell, Sasha!"

#yandere #yandere oc #ask me stuff #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #tw.dark content #yandere content #x reader #yandere girl #fem reader #fem yandere #yandere mean girl #yandere cheerleader #oc Sasha #oc Maggie #oc Lindsey

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a-aexotic · 2 years ago

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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

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juicedaloe · 1 year ago

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Mithrun and brain damage

I'm not sure if anyone is interested in this, but I wanted to make a post talking about why I think that Mithrun has brain damage from a traumatic brain injury instead of him being a representation of other neurological disorders or mental illness. I'm not that involved in the dunmesh fandom so I don't know how common this headcanon is, though I've seen a few people mention it here and there.

This is just my own opinion so if you disagree then that's fine. Some of this is just speculation and I can't say what Kui's intentions were. This post isn't meant to be that serious. I just wanted to talk about it and hopefully inform about how brain damage can affect some people in a way that I hope is interesting and relevant.

This will be kind of long because I like to talk so it will be under the cut. Apologies for the length and how much I ramble. Feel free to give input especially if I got anything wrong or if this is too confusing.

Okay let's go

Traumatic brain injury (TBI) is incredibly complex. The long-term effects of a TBI include a wide array of symptoms. Each injury is different, and some people can completely recover rather quickly while others can become permanently disabled, even for seemingly "minor" injuries. What I'll cover here isn't a definitive representation of the experiences of all those who have long-term effects from TBI, nor do I speak for everyone with brain damage.

Here are some long term symptoms relevant to this post:

Alexithymia (inability to process and name emotions)

Inability to process and name physical perceptions

Mood swings and emotional regulation difficulties

Communication difficulties

Social impairment

Apathy about caring for oneself

Lack of motivation

Alexithymia and inability to process physical perceptions

This one is rather obvious. While Mithrun is shown to feel emotions and have physical sensations (for instance, describing his location when he gets lost in the dungeon as "a cold place"), he is also apathetic to how this affects him. This means that his physical and emotional perceptions are reduced in some way. He says that becoming lord of the dungeon will leave someone "empty", showing he is aware of his dulled emotional state.

A good example of this is can be seen here in a bonus comic where he doesn't give much of a reaction to burning his mouth on hot food.

(I love these two a lot, by the way. Pattadol is really under appreciated.)

He is also not able to recognize bodily signals, such as hunger or when he is tired. Despite collapsing from exhaustion and not eating for long periods of time, he still insists he is not tired or hungry.

Mood swings

Mood swings in combination with alexithymia can be an especially disorientating experience. Those who struggle to perceive their own emotions can still feel them even if they don't know how to recognize it.

Individuals with brain injuries often experience drastic mood swings, particularly anger. To those around them, they can appear to go from 0 to 100 in an instant.

This is more speculation/headcanon on my part, as the strongest emotion Mithrun has for most of his appearances is anger. However one could interpret this as being unrelated as he is seeking revenge for a traumatic experience.

Communication difficulties and social impairment

Not only can naming personal experiences be incredibly difficult with a brain injury, but other areas of communication are often affected as well.

Mithrun is not able to set boundaries for himself even if someone is doing something he would not actually want them to do, which can leave him in a vulnerable position.

People with brain injuries can sometimes have a paradoxical experience when it comes to communicating with others. They can go from being very quiet to speaking at length about one topic, seemingly without regard for the importance of each bit of information. (I see it like Newton's first law of motion. It is hard to start speaking and it can be just as hard to stop.)

I really like this aspect of Mithrun's characterization. Usually, he is very quiet because he has no reason to speak. However, once he starts talking he is shown to be overly specific and goes on for long periods of time. Kabru has to spend multiple days figuring out his story.

In a side comic, Kabru tells Mithrun he should condense some of the personal details that Kabru finds irrelevant to the topic of the dungeon.

Mithrun shares many details about himself because his desire not to do so is gone. This mirrors the experience of many people who have brain damage to overshare and not understand how their words will come across to others. Sometimes they say or do things that are insensitive or inappropriate for the situation.

Caring for oneself and motivation

In the dungeon, Mithrun becomes reliant on others for self care. He also seems especially incapable of motivating himself to take care of his body when he is particularly focused on his goals.

In these panels, thus far he had been fairly receptive of Kabru trying to take care of him. However, he could sense that the demon was close and was too focused on that to care to eat.

Refusal of care and treatment is often an effect of traumatic brain injury. This can be for seemingly no reason, even if the person knows that this will help them. Sometimes people will lie about receiving treatment or doing things to take care of themselves, either so they can avoid it or avoid having someone take care of them.

He knows that eating regularly and not pushing himself too much will help him - he's been told multiple times on-screen - but he still has to be continuously told by others to give him that motivation to take care of himself. He's very apathetic to his physical state, even if it seems his only desire is for revenge and he should be doing anything he can to achieve that.

Other things of note

I wasn't sure where to put this, but while Mithrun's sense of direction is speculated by Kabru to be left over from his time as lord of an ever-changing, confusing dungeon, having poor sense of direction in the way he does could also be indicative of brain injury as well.

While the dungeon is confusing and illogical, he is known to have a poor sense of direction and to get frequently lost by those around him, even trying to exit an entrance he just came through. He is shown to be very intelligent, but memory is greatly impacted by brain injuries which affects a person's sense of direction and location.

Something that really stands out to me about Mithrun is how much the things that help him are particularly helpful to those with brain damage. He is physically capable of performing tasks, but he needs an outside source to remind him and get him started. He relies entirely on routine, and when that regularity is taken away he shows extreme difficulty taking care of himself.

Sometimes, the care that some people need is simply someone else to encourage them or to tell them when to do things. The care that he needs is pretty consistent with a person with a brain injury who does not need a full time caretaker and would prefer to have some independence.

Also, healing magic is specified to not work with brain injury unless the person is killed and revived. Mithrun had not been revived after his injuries, so it is entirely possible for him to have sustained a TBI. I don't think this matters that much because one is still allowed to have headcanons even if there is a magical explanation or isn't really possible in canon, but I thought it was an interesting detail.

In conclusion

Because of all this I don't believe that his lack of self care is due solely to mental illness. While mental illnesses like depression or PTSD can cause a decline in self care, the reasons why the affected individual is avoidant of these tasks differs. These disorders can also cause cognitive difficulties and emotional regulation issues, but not to the same extent or in the same way that brain damage would. I think that he does have both depression and PTSD (both are common after a TBI) but those are not his only disabilities.

And on a personal note, I just think that having a character with brain damage is really cool. Most of the time I've seen it the characters are not given very much respect and they are treated as comic relief and a joke. Regardless of whether you agree with this post or not, it is still nice to see a character with a disability like this.

Thank you if you read all of this. I hope it was easy to understand and I did not ramble too much. I don't have anything else to say but I've been wanting to write this out for a while.

Okay bye

#Dungeon Meshi #Mithrun

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i314flix · 3 months ago

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[ 7:23 A.M. ] “god, ____, you’re killing me here.”

you glared at jake. you wanted to retort that if anyone had the right to claim that they were being killed at this second, it would be you, thanks to your annoying fever. after all, you have been glued to your bed since yesterday, only getting up when you needed to pee or wished to rummage through the fridge, trying to find something to eat that your appetite might be kind enough to accept. so far, a half-glass of orange juice has managed to get down your throat, as well as a few spoonfuls of rice porridge.

“how the hell am i supposed to leave you like this?” he added when you didn’t answer. “should i make a call and say i’m rejecting the deployment?”

“is that even allowed?”

“no. i’m pretty sure they’ll throw me in the brig and give me a bad discharge or something.”

“then you should leave now, jake.” you weakly pushed his thigh. he was standing beside the bed, dressed in his naval aviator uniform, this permanent worried expression etched on his face. “i promise, i’ll live. it’s just some stupid cold.”

he didn’t move.

“jake.”

“what do you expect me to do?” he raised his arms up in frustration, voice raising a bit. he sometimes had the bad habit of converting his concern into a display of anger. “my girlfriend’s sick. her temperature’s not lowering, she lives alone, and i’m about to leave her for three months because my job demands it. i’m sorry if i want to ditch my patriotic duty for a goddamn day!”

you sighed. you weren’t sure how you were going to make the situation better either, and being scolded by jake didn’t help. it only worsened your headache, this ringing bothering your ears heightening for a second.

“shit, i’m sorry.” you suddenly heard jake mutter almost immediately when he finished talking, and he crouched down to your level, placing a hand over cheek. “i did it again, didn’t i?”

“turned your anger on me? yeah.”

guilt washed over him further. “i’m sorry for being a dick. you didn’t deserve that.”

“it’s alright, babe.” you placed your palm over his hand, a small smile making its way on your lips to appear stronger than you were. “we both know this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. we’re supposed to be sneaking in a quickie before i drive you to the airport and instead i’m sick.”

jake laughed at that. “i hate that i can’t even kiss you right now.”

“i know. i hate it too.”

“i hate that i need to leave.”

“if only you didn’t have to.”

“you sure you’ll be fine?” he asked.

“yeah, positive.” you replied. “i mean, this isn’t the first time i’ve been sick on my own. i’m a grown woman. i can take care of myself.”

“that’s another thing i hate.”

“don’t worry.” you kissed his wrist. “once i’m back on my feet, i’ll tell you.”

that seemed to ease him a little. “i expect you to tell me you’re okay as soon as possible, alright?”

“i’ll even write it in paragraph form with pictures if you want.”

“i’m being serious.”

you smiled wider, sheepish. “yes, sir. i’ll update you as soon as possible.”

he rolled his eyes at your playfulness and leaned in to give your forehead a long kiss. “don’t forget to drink your meds on time. i’ll tell marjorie to check on you every now and then.” marjorie was your elderly neighbor who had a dog you often looked after when she had lengthy errands to do.

you nodded once more, and with a final kiss on your cheek this time, jake said his farewells (reluctantly) and was out of your apartment by the time you were threatening to call coyote to haul him away.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagines #hangman fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagines

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reiding-writing · 2 months ago

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hiii congrats on 2k!

could I please have a second hand book with our dearly beloved cold reader? I'm thinking maybe she gets too drunk and Spencer has to take care of her? but I'm cool with anything!

love ya ❤️❤️

TALKING FISTS — SPENCER REID!

alcohol and a short temper don’t mix, who would’ve thought?

spencer reid x cold!reader | fluff? | 1.2k | cold!reader masterlist

WARNINGS | intoxicated!reader, fem!reader, reader punches someone and instigates a fight, mentions (but it doesn’t actually happen) of throwing up, reader is a bit of a twat as per usual

a/n — a bit of a different way for spencer to ‘look after’ our beloved cold!reader, but i think this is accurate to what would happen if she actually got super drunk 😭

main masterlist. | 2k book fayre !! | event masterlist.

Spencer knows you’ve had too much when he has to physically stop you from fighting someone.

Realistically, you’d had too much four drinks before that, but with the way Morgan was feeding you shots it was kind of hard to keep track.

It had been a long week, and you were in no mood to entertain anyone. Still, somehow, Garcia had convinced you to go out for drinks with everyone after a particularly difficult case.

You weren't the kind of person to get swept up in the camaraderie, but every now and again you gave in, and in this case specifically, you felt like the weight of the last few days might lift with a strong enough drink.

As the night wore on, you found yourself knocking back one drink after another, not even sure why you were still there.

Maybe it was because you needed to feel something other than the exhaustion that had taken up permanent residence in your bones.

Or maybe it was because Spencer kept looking at you with that concerned, too-perceptive gaze of his, like he could see right through your icy exterior.

You weren't sure when the tipping point happened, but somewhere between drink four and drink five, you became more irritable than usual.

The alcohol loosened the tight grip you usually had on your temper, making you feel even more impatient, even more annoyed at the crowd around you.

Someone bumped into you as they passed by, spilling a bit of your drink, and that was all it took to set you off.

“Watch it.” You snapped, your voice sharp.

The guy turned around, clearly drunk, and rolled his eyes. “Relax, it's just a drink.”

You stood up from your chair, your movements a little unsteady but your glare deadly. “I said, watch it.”

The guy laughed, looking you up and down like you were some sort of joke. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Before you could even think about backing down, your fist connected with the side of his face.

It wasn’t a hard punch—not enough to seriously hurt him—but it was enough to shut him up.

Or at least, it should have been.

Instead, in the midst of the widened eyes and the gasps, he turns back towards you, chin cradled in his hand, and sneers.

“You wanna start something? Don’t think I won’t hit you back because you’re a fucking girl—”

Suddenly, there were hands pulling you back, the noise of the bar amplifying as more people got involved.

You were distantly aware of Spencer calling your name, trying to calm the situation, but your blood was boiling, and the alcohol made everything feel disconnected, like you were watching yourself in third person.

“Okay that’s enough—“ Spencer's voice cut through the haze, sharper than you were used to. He was beside you now, his hand on your arm, pulling you out of the fray. "Come on, we need to go now."

You wanted to protest, to rip your arm out of his grasp and tell him you didn’t need help, but the room was spinning, and you couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Spencer’s grip tightened, and before you knew it, he had steered you out of the bar, away from the chaos you had started.

The cool night air hit you hard, making you stumble, and if not for Spencer’s hands steady on your shoulders, you probably would’ve fallen over.

He guided you carefully towards a bench nearby, and you collapsed onto it, Spencer crouching in front of you with his brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his voice soothing but full of worry.

You tried to wave him off, but your hand felt heavy, like it wasn't really yours. “I'm fine, Reid,” you slurred, though the words came out much less convincing than you intended.

“You’re definitely not fine,” Spencer said, a small, exasperated smile tugging at his lips despite the situation. “You just punched someone. In the face,”

You blinked at him, your brain struggling to process. “He was being a dick.”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying he wasn’t, but you don’t usually… you know… punch people.”

You leaned back against the bench, the world still tilting slightly around you. “Maybe I should punch more people.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Then, his tone softened. “Let’s get you home.”

You were too tired to argue, and when Spencer helped you to your feet, you leaned on him more than you intended.

He was warm and steady, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, even though you had spent so much time keeping everyone at arm's length.

Spencer wasn’t someone you ever imagined being close to, but in that moment, you were grateful for him.

The cab ride back to your apartment was quiet, with Spencer making sure you didn’t fall asleep or throw up on the way. When you finally stumbled through your front door, he guided you to the couch, sitting you down gently.

“You need anything? Water?” He asked, glancing around your apartment like he was looking for something that might help.

You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Just… leave me alone.”

Spencer didn’t move. He stood there, awkwardly, clearly debating whether or not to listen to you. Eventually, he sighed and grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, directing it into your unstable hands and carefully pushing the bottom of the glass upwards to direct it towards you lips.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said quietly, and you could hear the hint of a smile in his voice as you reluctantly took the first sip.

And then it wasn’t so reluctant, and you downed the whole glass.

That seemed to satisfy Spencer enough for one night.

“Get some sleep okay? I’ll call you in the morning,”

“Whatever,”

Spencer presses his lips together in the hint of a smile as he turns to leave, content that you’ll be able to take care of yourself from here.

“Night,”

Spencer lets out a breath, fondness escaping through the cracks of his mouth. “Goodnight,”

#𝜗𝜚 book fayre。#cold!reader ᝰ.ᐟ #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶#spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst

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steddiewithachance · 1 year ago

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Vampire Pancakes

A response to this writing prompt. Thought it was too cute, had to write it! @dwobbitfromtheshire

🥞🫐

No one really knows what to do with Eddie right now. Everyone is jittery around him, going so far as to hold their breath when he so much as twitches. Even Dustin is squinting at him with calculating eyes; he's analyzing Eddie for threat.

Eddie will continue to courteously ignore the hand that Nancy is keeping stationed on her belt conveniently close to the little pistol everyone knows she's hiding. It doesn't matter that Eddie helped them kill Vecna, or that he saved Baby Byers' life. It doesn't matter when he has sharp teeth, dark eyes, and a thirst for blood. He can't blame 'em for being scared.

Eddie thinks about his dad. Wonders if even Al would see Eddie as a monster now.

Eddie got picked on a lot as a kid and he'd often come home from school tired and weepy. Al would look up from the couch in that black tank top he always wore. He'd set down whatever he was smoking to pat the spot next to him.

"What happened Ed? Was some little shithead mean to ya?"

Eddie would nod and slump into his father's side, eyes burning from the spicy, smokey air. When Eddie pressed his face into his dad's arm, Al would pull back and pat his head with sorrowful eyes. Al didn't really know how to comfort a kid or maybe he thought that being distant was in Eddie's best interest.

"You're too soft, Ed. Ya gotta make those kids think you can pack a punch. Chin up, eyes mean, shoulders back. Make 'em intimidated, make 'em fear ya."

So like any kid who thinks their dad's word is law, Eddie listened, or tried his best at least. But his dad never said that mean eyes, dark clothes, and loud music would get him accused of witchcraft by a bunch'a angry jocks and chased straight into hell.

Now his sheepies -his kiddos- are looking at him like they're scared, like they can't trust him and that is a fucking gut punch. Because pretty early on in his high school career, he decided that his purpose was gonna be standing as a shield for other kids like him. He wanted to be a source of safety and warmth in an otherwise cold and unforgiving storm.

Being feared is lonely and sad, Eddie has discovered, and he worries this is his new permanent reality.

Eddie quietly sits through his friends hammering out the logistics of a nighttime schedule to organize sleeping shifts so someone always has an eye on him. It's sick. Eddie has to excuse himself to cry about it. He has no uncontrollable urges to eat anyone here, Steve does smell appetizing, but he wouldn't jump the guy.

He can still eat human food apprently, it barely does anything for him, but it's something. Eddie thinks it's enough to quell any feral urges he may or may not get. He thinks the party is being unreasonable about their safety precautions, but really, he'd probably do the same if there was a monster in the same house as him.

🥞🫐

It's a long night, he can't fall asleep but he'll pretend to so that everyone can relax a little. The changing of the guard chafes at him and makes his lip quiver. He bites his lip to prevent a wounded sound from slipping out when Robin nudges Steve awake and says it's "his turn on hell shift". Eddie jolts because he remembers he has real sharp teeth now, and biting his lip does, in fact, hurt like a bitch.

"You're not asleep, huh?" He hears whispered into the air of the big living room after Robin has settled back into sleep. It's Steve's sweet and melodic voice.

"I'm trying." He responds, brokenly.

"Wanna get some fresh air with me for a minute? I need'a smoke." Steve is already shrugging the sheets off of him and carefully stepping over his sleeping friends towards the back door. Eddie doesn't think he has a choice, but to follow. Stepping out of this stuffy room does sound like a relief though.

Eddie makes the same journey through the sea of teenagers sprawled across Steve's floor and out the sliding glass door. When he steps onto the patio, all of the crickets stop chirping around him. The night goes silent. What the fuck? Is that because of him? He loves the sound of crickets, though.

He walks over and curls up in one of the Harringtons' fancy-loungy-pool-chairs. Steve stays standing, leaning artfully against the side of his house next to the glass. He flicks open his lighter and the small flame illuminates his square jawline with a warm glow. He's so achingly handsome. He's like a movie star, or a model.

"You okay?" Steve asks conversationally.

"Not even a little."

Steve sighs and pushes off the wall to walk towards Eddie's chair. He sits at the foot of it and swivels so he's looking at Eddie.

"I'm really sorry Eddie. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling. I won't pretend to." Steve sets a hand on Eddie's ankle and Eddie could cry from the small gesture of comfort that he's practically writhing for. "I feel like what happened to you is all my fault. I know that 'sorry' wont cut it, but for the record, I am. Completely and utterly sorry." That's a silly thing to think.

"It's not your fault, are you kidding? How do you reckon it's your fault?"

"Sending you with Dustin? Alone? Putting all that responsibility on you?" Steve looks down at his cigarette with disgust. He twists it into the cold concrete next to his socked foot and looks back at Eddie. There's no fear in his expression, and for once Eddie is grateful for his reckless bravery.

"It was the best plan and we all agreed to it. Don't sweat it, Harrington." Eddie feels like he's not all there. Feels like maybe if he was more composed he could comfort Steve better, but he's hungry and dazed, sad and tired. Steve nods solemnly, and clears this throat.

"And about everyone being kind of on edge... It'll pass. I think they're all thinking about when Billy Hargrove got possessed by the mind flayer and went homicidal on us. He tried to kill all the kids."

Eddie desperately wants to hear all the other Upside down stories one day. He keeps trying to stitch together all these scraps of lore that keep getting dropped on him. He has no right to ask about something so traumatic, so he'll just be patient and wait for more lore to drop.

"Everyone's just being cautious. Vecna's dead though, so I'm not really sure who they think would possess you." Steve finishes and squeezes Eddie's lower calf where his hand rests.

"I get it. Kinda hurts my feelings, but I get it." Eddie mumbles and feels his eyes getting heavy. He wonders if he could fall asleep out here. Maybe if the crickets were still chirping and it wasn't so goddamn quiet.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." It's fine, this might not even be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

🥞🫐

In the morning Eddie curls himself into Steve's little kitchen nook. Eddie kind of loves the window seat, it's something his mom would have wanted, Eddie theorizes. She was always looking out windows, probably daydreaming about escaping. Eddie does it too.

The kids seem warmer this morning. There's no more hushed whispers or pointed looks. They're talking and moving around the house less cautiously. Hopefully, the stiffest interactions and the worst of their distrust is behind them. Nancy's still watching him like a hawk though.

Steve shuffles into view, his socks are bunched up around his ankles. It's cute.

He holds out a plate for Eddie with a dumb smile on his face. When Eddie reaches for it, he sees a stack of pancakes and the top pancake has a little face made out of blueberries and two whipped cream fangs. It's a vampire pancake. Steve made Eddie a sweet little vampire pancake.

"Oh my god, you're so adorable." Eddie squeaks and makes a grabby hand for the fork Steve's holding. Steve blushes and hands over the fork.

"Do you like it?" Steve asks coyly. The pancakes feel like a hug, they feel like an apology that Steve doesn't even owe.

"I love it, chef." Eddie pokes at the pancake-vampire's cheek. "I don't know if I can eat him. He's too cute." Eddie giggles. Steve looks up at him with bright sparkly eyes. God he's perfect. Eddie's hungry for him in five different ways.

Robin and Dustin come up beside Steve to look down at the plate.

"I want one!" Dustin announces loudly. Steve turns around and heads back to the stove, he looks so proud of himself.

"You can have normal pancakes. Those are special for Eddie." Steve says with a wink. Dustin looks down at Eddie and pouts at him as if Eddie has any say in who gets what kind of pancake.

"Dustin had to watch it all happen, he should get one too." Eddie tells Steve earnestly while Steve is pouring more batter into the pan.

Dustin gloats and yells "Exactly! Thank you, Eddie."

And it feels like things are gonna be okay.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #soft steve harrington #steve harrington is a sweetheart #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie x steve #writing prompt #steddie microfic

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pillowbo · 9 months ago

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Forcemasc can be extremely humiliating and degrading! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. How humbling is it that you now live to serve a beautiful woman because she strapped you to a table and smeared t-gel onto you repeatedly.

She has to put gloves on her pretty hands, of course, can't let herself be corrupted how she's corrupting you. You hear the snap of rubber and then watch as she squeezes a big glob out of the tube, a glint in her eye as she glances from you to the shiny gel on her fingertips.

Perhaps she's a mad scientist, a cerebral woman with the sole intent of crafting a man out of you for whatever reason, perhaps she sees your potential.

Your thoughts drain out of your head all at once as the cold shock of gel glides against your skin, rubbing into your increasingly taut muscles and all over your body, and you can do nothing but writhe in your restraints as she describes in great detail her plan to make you into her perfect husband.

It's your position to be beneath her, as she sculpts you into her willing servant; here to carry big heavy things and go to work for her, pay her bills, give her money to buy Sephora and Coach and to get her perfect nails done, fuck her on demand when she wants it.

She'll take care to make you appear presentable. Of course, you will be distinctly masculine beside her, but none of that nonsense about smelling awful or being greasy in a wife beater because some simpleton thinks it's manly.

You might think, you're just a guy, you don't need much. Don't worry your big stupid head about any of it. She will arrange your wardrobes; suits and ties and nice shoes and cologne.

Can't have her arm candy looking slobbish! No, you will be her Dapper Dan as she wishes. You'll have all the time in the world to be absolutely filthy with her in the sheets, after all.

She touches your growing tdick with her gloved hands, bringing you back down to the moment once again when she gives it a few quick strokes and laughs at your responses, twisting and jerking at the sensation.

You're so sensitive now!

At last, she decides that you are ready. You look down at your newly grown tdick, hairs sprouting in rough stubble across your face, a happy trail, and hairy thighs that would take forever if you wanted to shave, the hairs inevitably sprouting right back.

You realize how permanent this is, what she has done to you, and all at once it makes you insanely horny. You want to pin her down and fuck her, the woman who did this to you.

She happily welcomes it, orders it even, but swats your sweaty hands away from her until she's led you to her bedroom. Stupid boy, show some restraint.

You get to the room and she strips, and she is so beautiful, such a contrast to you now, to how you always had been, on the inside. She is graceful and feminine and smooth as she walks, you feel so clunky and awkward, but she looks at you with admiration in her eyes at her work.

It's all it takes for you to top her and fuck her into her queen-size four-poster bed until you're both coming, over and over, you can't help but repeat your thrusting into her over and over, because she made you this way, because you've always been just a dumb man toy that exists to satisfy her pleasure.

#omg im breathless #wheezing #doubled over #please women who see this #i need a female POV #because i wanna see it #and also i'm just a dumb guy #you can write better than me #forcemasc #transmasc #ftm nsft #autoandrophilia #autoandrophile #ftmlw #my fantasy involving t-gel #sploshing #transhet #straight trans

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wonustars · 11 months ago

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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

Read More Here.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice.

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown.

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest.

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun.

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation.

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks.

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away.

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger.

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes. His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere.

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful?

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy.

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

#jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan fic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #do you remember the time?#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {fics: do you remember the time}#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

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atlasofthestaars · 1 year ago

Note

I can’t tell if your requests are open or not, so i’m sorry if they aren’t and just disregard this <3 Can I request ANYTHING with MK1 Bi-han, i’m down ASTRONOMICAL for him. if you want me to get specific something where he’s learning how to be affectionate and (ironically) less cold with you 😭 to me it seems like he’d be more of a physical touch/actions kind of person, even though that may be few and far between especially at first. also can i just say you’re the best mk writer i’ve seen ♥️

NOTE: They are! I just struggle with writing them sometimes, so I’m MUCH slower at making them than my New Era chapters, but they are!

<3 Thank you for requesting and being so lovely <3 Sorry for how long the wait was! I kinda treated this like a character study + my headcanons for the man.

Also I couldn’t tell if this was s/o or not so I just defaulted to crush?

The fic is set to be kinda ? told in his POV, but in second still. You’ll see! Also I kindaa got carried away at the end so maybe ??? a bit ooc. I just like writing people pining.

FOR YOU [SUB ZERO X READER]

Doing small things for others' convenience was not something Bi-Han was used to doing, nor was he known for doing these things.

“Get up.” Bi-Han stood over you, from where he had swept you and sent you tumbling to the floor. There were a few moments of silence as he watched you hesitate, staring up to him bewildered. Why were you confused? The command was simple enough. You stared at his hand, seeming lost in thought. He rolled his eyes.

How was this the person who could go toe to toe with him?

“Are you deaf?” He asked you, his stare turning into an icy glare.

Why did you look so lost?

Sure, he had never helped you off the ground before, Bi-Han could give you that. The reasons behind this was simple, he was just simply tired of hearing his brothers nag him for leaving you on the floor. It’s not like he helped any others up during sparring. They were capable of getting up themselves, they did not need their grandmaster to coddle them.

Just because he’s known you for a while, why should you be the exception?

Still, their complaints were tiring and bothersome, so he decided to try to help you up for once. Maybe that would settle their complaints. They were always pushing him to be a little less…icy. Plus, out of anyone, he supposed doing this for you would not be the worst. Sure, you tried to hang around him constantly, but your company wasn’t unpleasant he supposed.

Bi-Han growled as he watched you still lay on the ground, staring at his hand. With a huff, he lunged forward, grabbing your hand for himself. He was going to help you up one way or another, dammit. You were not going to be the person to deny his kindness. Hoisting you up, he was caught off guard as you collided with his chest.

Did he hit you so hard during training that you were acting dumb all of a sudden?

With a grunt, he steadied you, holding you by your waist. His hands settled quite nicely there, and his hands instinctively squeezed. Your hands were on his chest, as you righted yourself properly. He sent you another glare, this one more instinctual than intentional. You seemed caught off guard, confused, and so many things all at once.

You were confusing.

What was even more confusing was the fact that his mind seemed to want to capture this moment, wanting to sear the memory of you being in his arms permanently in his head. His hands twitched, and his lips pursed at the thoughts that invaded his head. He pushed them away, shooing them away like annoying flies.

A grandmaster should not be plagued by such…odd thoughts.

He sighed as he let go of your waist once you seemed steady enough. You shot him that sunny grin of yours, and commented on how his heart was finally defrosting. It seemed that you finally had your senses back. In return, Sub Zero frowned as he crossed his arms. You always had a knack for trying to make puns out of his powers. Still, despite the disapproving looks he always sent you, you never stopped.

Bi-Han wasn’t sure to think of you as brave for not caring for his warning glares, or stupid for ignoring them. He was inclined to think of the latter. Would you so brazenly ignore a wolf staring you down with predatory eyes? And yet, a small voice in his head told him otherwise.

He didn’t quite like nor agree with the voice. Honestly, he didn’t even know what to make of the voice in the first place.

“Satisfactory job for today.” Bi-Han said, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction as you beamed at his words. You were always too eager to accept any positive words from him. You gave his shoulder a pat and scampered off, probably to eat since it was around dinner time now.

He stood there for a bit longer, watching you disappear, and watching the place you last were before you turned the corner. He frowned as he realized he had been staring. How ridiculous, why had he been staring? With a grunt, he turned around and stalked off to his office.

He couldn’t get the feel of your hand out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

Bi-Han was not known for little acts of kindness.

“You need to eat.” Bi-Han scolded you, shoving a bowl full of food in your hands. Your fingers brushed, and he pursed his lips, not knowing what to make of the tingle it left on his skin. He’s been more oddly aware of his skin whenever he was around you lately, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

He watched as that stupid confused look overcame your face again as you took it. It always happened whenever he did things like this, but never with anyone else. He felt a bit offended every time. It wasn’t as if he was incapable of kindness. It didn’t sit right with him the idea that you thought he was incapable of it. You looked at him, opening your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” He mentioned, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Which it was. Anyone, if they were paying even a smidge of attention to you, would notice how you failed to eat this morning. It actually has been a few days since you’ve eaten breakfast, leading to you complaining and being famished by lunchtime. It had begun to bother him.

Was it just him who noticed these things about you? You even seemed surprised by the information he told you.

How foolish.

“Did you make this?” You asked, peering at the food as you prodded the rice congee with the spoon. Bi-Han nodded, and he felt a strange fluttery feeling in his chest as you took a bite and hummed in delight. You were too pleased by this simple cooking, this was a meal that a child was capable of making. He didn’t like how he craved more of your approval. “This is really good! Thanks Bi-Han!”

Your praise made him feel content. Much to his chagrin, Bi-Han felt his mind churn out some ideas. How would you react if he made you something special instead of this simple breakfast? Certainly you would be more impressed, why shouldn’t you be? His cooking was sufficient. Maybe you’d even praise him more.

Maybe he should make you some more food, sometime.

“You should be eating breakfast, it’s stupid to skip meals.” The cyromancer continued to berate you with a frown. He didn’t like the idea of you skipping meals, it felt…wrong. He watched as you, through a mouthful of food, tried to excuse yourself. He sent you a glare. “There are no excuses. Even a child knows not to skip a meal.”

“But-”

“I just said no excuses.” Bi-Han said, shutting you down with a tone of finality. You sent him a sheepish look, one that told him that you were honestly, and truly sorry. You didn’t have any malice behind your actions, at least. He sighed, leaning forward to meet your gaze. “Just so you don’t go running around without at least some food in your stomach, I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Really?” You said. You blinked in surprise, and he nodded. You smiled at him, and he closed his eyes, ignoring how his mind wanted to save that imagery. “I’d like that a lot Bi-Han, thank you.” He nodded, opening his eyes to send you a small glare as he ignored the flutter in his chest.

“You need to wake up earlier though, so you have time to eat.”

“That’s worth it.”

Bi-Han was not known for letting others close to him.

“Hold still!”

You swatted his shoulder, huffing as you glared at him. Your confidence around the grandmaster was almost astounding to the rest of the Lin Kuei. Not many would not even think of glaring at the man, let alone swat his shoulder in annoyance. And yet, here you were, doing just that. The oddest part of it all was that Bi-Han was letting you.

Well, more like tolerating you.

Your efforts were not without some push back from Bi-Han. You received your fair share of glares, huffs, and scoffs. And yet, you ignored all of those. The glares he sent your way were deflected, as if they were mere stares. His huffs and scoffs were like entertainment to you. He watched as your grin grew whenever he did these.

When did you stop fearing his intimidating presence?

Did you ever fear him in the first place?

Bi-Han was left brooding as you tended to his wounds. He felt like a sheltered, pampered dog with a person who fussed far too much over him. His lips pulled into a frown as you pulled his arm into place, making sure to grip it tightly so he could not move and mess up your delicate work.

“I’m trying to stay still.” Bi-Han grumbled, his voice sounded resigned as he let the arm you worked on go limp. He had learned well enough from your previous efforts that resistance was futile. You would probably chase him down to the ends of the earth to dress his wounds. The thought alone seemed ridiculous.

Then again, it was you. And he wasn’t sure when he stopped minding it when it was you.

“Well, try harder!” You sassed, rolling your eyes. The grandmaster kept his eyes on yours, finding them more interesting than anything else in the room. No, he was not fawning over your eyes. Such a notion was unfounded. He simply didn’t think anything else was interesting.

That’s it. That’s all.

Your eyes were simply just more interesting than the same old training rooms he’s known since he could remember. Honestly, most things were. But your eyes were especially a standout. They held a certain quality to them. A warmth that could not be replicated, not even by his younger brother’s pyromancy. No, it was unique. Something he couldn’t quite place.

Bi-Han felt his breath catch as your eyes, the ones he definitely did not find fascinating, met his own eyes. You certainly had to have some sort of magic within your blood. It was impossible that you didn’t in some capacity. After all, why would he be unable to look away if that wasn’t the case?

“What?” Bi-Han asked, his voice rumbling as he continued to look at those strange eyes of yours. He watched as they narrowed once again at him, like he did something wrong. He couldn’t have, though, all he did was stare at you. And you never once complained about it.

“Did you even hear what I said?” You nagged. Realization trickled in, and Bi-Han’s first instinct was to frown. He most certainly did not hear what you said. It wasn’t his fault though. He was far more focused on trying to figure out your eyes than to hear whatever you had been going on about.

Not that he disliked your voice. It was nowhere near ear splitting and headache inducing. He’d never admit it, but it was the complete opposite of that. And by complete opposite, he meant it was tolerable. Nothing more, nothing less.

Seriously.

“No.” Bi-Han bluntly replied, knowing that you’d chew him out if he even bothered to lie. You seemed to read him better than he could read you. It was a bit frustrating. He wasn’t exactly an open book, yet you made him feel like one. Meanwhile, you were open with almost everything and almost everyone. So why could he not figure you out?

“I said you need to be more careful.” You repeated, an exhausted tone in your voice. He frowned, both at your insistence and your condition. Have you been skipping out on sleep again? After searching your face, he determined that no, you were just exhausted by him.

“I am careful.” He retaliated, dropping his gaze to look down at his hands. They were clasped together as he hunched over. He detested the way his mind started to drift back to thoughts of you again. How would your hand fit in his? Were your hands soft and gentle? Or were they rough and calloused like his? Were they warm? Cold?

Why did he always think of you?

“Clearly, you’re not careful enough.” You nagged. For emphasis, you tightened the bandage you were wrapping around his bicep. He should not like the fact that you were concerned over him. He didn’t need you to be concerned over him. “Honestly, for being grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, I thought you’d be more careful.” You muttered.

Bi-Han sent a half hearted glare your way, being met with one of the same intensity. He couldn’t even muster up a retort to send your way. It was just because he knew you wouldn’t care whatever harsh comment he had. That’s it.

His mind fixated on the gentle way you smoothed out the bandages. Your fingers tracing over his muscles such care that was foreign to the cryomancer. It felt…domestic. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of a domestic life.

Since when did he crave for those kinds of things?

“Someday I might not be here to patch up your wounds.” You threatened, but both he and you knew it was a half hearted lie. You would always be there to bother Bi-Han. Whether it be to nag him, make stupid jokes, or just to…be there.

He’s grown soft, he realized, if he’s actually grown to tolerate you and your presence without too much thought. Looking back, the man realized that, he’s actually grown to be used to you being with him for a while now. This realization would have made the man angry or terrified long ago.

Now he was just…okay with it.

And so Bi-Han sat there, with the overwhelming realization that he’s grown to trust you.

Bi-Han was not known for being vulnerable.

The grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, as much as he would never admit it, is very much human.

He had dreams. Dreams of ascending to higher things than just being a member of a clan that listened to a god to a drop of a hat. He had aspirations of growing stronger and better than he was now. He had flaws, much like any other person. He was ambitious to a fault and was too harsh and blunt, even to his own kin.

But most of all, Bi-Han felt weaknesses.

It wasn’t often, but he sometimes thought of his parents.

Bi-Han’s relationship with his father was strained. To be the firstborn of a clan that was so revered meant he had a lot of expectations on him since he was born. He had to command respect without being harsh. He had to be confident, but not cocky. He had to give up who he was, or wanted to be, for the clan. Because Bi-han was now the clan’s life blood.

The cyromancer never asked for such a destiny. But who was he to deny a path to power since birth? He supposed it was only worthy of him, as he rose to the challenge when he knew many would crumble under the immense pressure. He alone withstood the harshness of his father’s teachings when others did not see that side of him.

No one else had to see the sheer disappointment in his father’s eyes everytime he did not live up to his expectations.

It was suffice to say his father expected much of him. Bi-Han, after all, was going to inherit a lot of power and responsibility. It was only fair. Still, bitterly, the cyromancer remembered how much easier his brothers’ expectations were. But it was fine. It was not as if they were trained to be the next grandmaster of a clan.

It was probably for the better, for now he was a man who could hold his own.

Still, sometimes he wished, deep down, that he had a father instead of a teacher.

Bi-Han’s relationship with his mother was better. Where his father surmounted a lot of pressure upon his son to forge him into a diamond, his mother took care and time to polish him. The man was ever thankful for and adored his mother.

When father had been harsh, she had always been there to provide guiding words to help quell his fears. She gave him compassion and kindness in his times of need. His mother had always been proud of him, even when he felt as if he fell short.

Bi-Han had been hit the hardest by his mother’s death.

Tonight was one of those nights where his weaknesses managed to snag their claws into him and tear at his chest. Lying down on his bed, he stared up towards the ceiling. It was dark in his room. He preferred it that way. But the cover of darkness did not help his mind as he looked into the inky black darkness.

Though he did not feel the chill of his own powers, he knew that the temperature in his room was dropping quickly due to his lack of self control. He should have better control than this. The old man would despise this as much as he despised him.

He needed water. Water would help him get back into the right mindset.

Bi-Han trudged towards the kitchen, a layer of frost following in his wake. Thoughts of the parents he no longer had filled his mind as he went, trying to drag him down. Shards of ice born from his irritation grew on his forearms.

Why were the dead haunting him so much?

It was irrational for him to allow them to have such a chokehold on his thoughts, even after all this time. The cyromancer owed them nothing. He had no need for them to whisper into his mind, telling him how he needed to be more than he was now. How Bi-Han was still not enough,

The knob on the kitchen grew icy as he gripped it. Fragile shards dropped as he turned, shattering like glass on the floor. His steps felt like molasses as he walked towards the sink. The glass he grabbed immediately grew cold, almost threatening to shatter in his hands.

He glared at the sink as it refused to relinquish the water he desperately needed. Bi-Han felt his frustration grow, and he clenched his fists. He trembled and shook from anger. He was the grandmaster, dammit! He should not be struggling with any of this.

The glass shattered in his hand.

“Bi-Han?” A voice rang out amongst the whispers in his head. He froze, the ice on his hands sticking to the sink like his father’s teachings stuck to him. Like a cornered animal, Sub Zero’s head whipped around and he glared instinctively at the intruder.

It was you.

You stood in the doorway, eyes wide as you looked at the mess that was Bi-Han. He cringed inwardly, detesting how you saw him at his lowest. Slowly, you stepped into the room, looking at the shards of ice and the frost that had overtaken the room.

“Are you okay?” You asked, now in front of Bi-Han. Instead of the fear he had imagined in your eyes, you only showed concern. Slowly, you reached out a hand to cradle his now bleeding hand. You examined his hands, taking out the bandages you seemed to always carry for his sake and began to patch him just like you always did.

The words Bi-Han wanted to say caught in his throat as he stared at you. He was bewildered. Why were you not running? Why were you still here? It was illogical for you to be staying here when he was like…this.

“I saw all the ice.” You said, your voice gentle and soft. It soothed the pain. It silenced the whispers in his head. “I was worried for you.” You murmured, your gaze focused on his hand that you held so carefully, as if it would break if you breathed too hard.

Normally, he hated being treated lesser than he was. But he knew with you, that wasn’t the case here.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping but…” You said. You paused, uncertain over something. Then, slowly you wrapped your arms around him, giving him a warm gentle embrace. For a moment, Bi-Han stood there stiffly, not knowing what to do. This type of affection was lost to him.

Slowly, though, he wrapped his arms around you too.

And he sobbed into your shoulder.

Bi-Han, most of all, was not known for being soft.

Standing outside in the garden, you stood by his side. You always seemed to find your way there. Bi-Han could not think of a better place he would rather you be. It only felt right that you were there, after everything you’ve been through with him.

The cyromancer glanced at you, letting out a breath as he saw the frost nip at your nose and cheeks making them flush. Bi-Han, in that moment, was jealous of the gentle snow and cold and how it brought the color to your cheeks.

It should be him.

If he made a light snowstorm like the one surrounding you both, would you look at him with even a fraction of the admiration he held for you? If he made an ice sculpture dedicated for you, would you swoon for him and fall into his arms?

No, none of those felt right.

He watched silently with thinly veiled admiration as you spread out your arms, embracing the cold weather. A large smile pulled at your lips, and it also pulled at his heart. The joy on your face was nearly infectious, and he had to fight to keep his lips from quirking up. And yet, if you were to open your eyes and look over, you would see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

No person should have this amount of control over another over a damned smile, and yet here you were. You were able to make the icy grandmaster smile without lifting a finger. All you had to do was to have to smile. By the Netherrealm, you could just look at him at this point and his heart would be jumping for joy.

You had him wrapped around your finger, did you know that?

No. Of course not. You were too oblivious to his feelings. If you did, you would and should be trying to hug him, and not the snowflakes that surrounded the both of you. So instead, Bi-Han just admired your all too perfect face, trying to commit the sight to memory.

By the elder gods, he really wanted to kiss you.

“Isn’t the snowfall just wonderful?” You asked, peeking open an eye to look at him. Bi-Han, snapping out of his stupor, crossed his arms like he guarded his heart. He paused, trying to think of something, anything.

What should he do? Should he try to flirt? No, knowing you, you’d probably laugh at his attempt and think he was trying to make a joke. That, and flirting wasn’t really his style anyways. That was something the arrogant actor would do, and he wanted you to fall for him, Bi-Han. Not Johnny Cage.

So instead he just nodded.

It seemed a sufficient enough answer for you. Your smile grew, and Bi-Han wondered for a moment if you were the embodiment of the sun. No, of course not. You were far more radiant than that stupid star, if anything, the universe should revolve around you.

His world already did, anyways.

“It’s nice to have something gentle for once, it’s usually a blizzard out here!” You exclaimed, and Bi-Han’s mind couldn’t help but to run in circles over your words. Did you prefer a gentleman? The ghost of a smile on his lips disappeared, replaced with his usual frown.

He wasn’t exactly a shining definition of a gentleman.

“Aw, you stopped smiling.” You pointed out, and Bi-Han’s heart skipped a beat. So you weren’t as oblivious as you seemed. You noticed his smile, and even seemed to mourn the loss of it. Did you like it? If he were better at it, he’d smile just for you. His lips pursed, and he suddenly wishes he could smile on command. He’s never wanted that before.

Bi-Han’s eyes wander, and they look towards you hair and the snowflakes that decorate it. You looked absolutely ethereal. It was like the universe was trying to set him up for failure. How could the universe decorate you just so…perfectly?

“Man, I should have brought gloves.” You complain. You bring up your hands, which were trembling slightly from the cold. You exhaled into them before rubbing them together to try and bring back some warmth into your body.

“Here.” Bi-Han said, and his body worked faster than his mind as he grabbed your hands. For a moment, he was pleased with himself. Then, in the next, he felt foolish. His hands were probably cold, what was he thinking? He stared at you, trying to gauge your reaction to his impulsive actions.

At first, it was shock. Then, that melted away into something that felt…bashful? Bi-Han’s heart skipped a beat, and he forced himself to engrave the look on your face into his brain. He never knew someone could look so breathtaking.

“Oh, thank you.” You said, your face becoming ever more flushed. The grandmaster’s heart swelled with pride and joy. He made you feel this way. Certainly that had to mean something, right? You bit your lip, and he couldn’t help but be entranced. How could someone have such kissable looking lips? “I…um…I need help with something else too…” You trailed off, swallowing as you nervously looked away.

“Hm?” Bi-han hummed, entranced by the usual shyness. He leaned ever closer, eyes searching your face. Whatever it is you wanted, he would give.

“My lips are cold too.” You managed to mumble out, before giving him the most hopeful smile he’s ever seen. Bi-Han’s lips grew into a soft smile as his stomach did backflips. He leaned forward, until his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.

“I can help with that.”

Then, he gave you a kiss.

Bi-Han was not known for doing small things for others, nor for his kindness. He never was known for letting others in or for vulnerability. And most of all, he was not known for his softness.

And yet, he’d be all of that and more, if it was for you.

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