WARNINGS: almost every male character on the main mk1 roster is included, a little bit of angst here and there, established relationships, some mentions of harassment and assholes not taking no for an answer, gender neutral reader, lowercase intended, you can clearly tell havik is the author's favorite, reader condones havik's actions in his part but author doesn't it's just for story purposes, characters may be ooc idk, not proofread we die like sindel
A/N: i got this idea while i was in the shower this morning blasting what is love by twice cuz i finally got around to the khaos reigns dlc yesterday and my interest in mk1 has been revived. also this took me 10 hours to write for some odd reason. also i've never written this many characters before in one part... please like and reblog i really am proud of this and hope you guys like it too <3 also you can tell the more i was writing the longer the paragraphs were getting
doesn't get jealous (he trusts you):
LIU KANG has full faith in your loyalty. he doesn't take it personally when someone flirts with you. he'll gladly step in if the person flirting with you isn't taking a hint, but overall, he isn't bothered. in fact, he's more concerned about your well-being than his. he'll comfort you after the encounter and ask if there's anything he can do to put your mind at ease.
KUAI LIANG would silently watch the interaction from a distance, waiting for the person to leave you alone. similar to liu kang, he trusts you and gives you the chance to defend yourself before he does. he's confident that you wouldn't leave him, but he still stays nearby in case you need his help. in the event that you do need his assistance in getting rid of the person, he wouldn't hesitate to teach them a quick lesson then evacuate the scene with you.
GERAS couldn't care less. in fact, he isn't surprised you would be hit on. you're physically and socially attractive, it makes sense that other people would attempt to court you. he trusts that you won't let the interaction go any farther. if the person persists or is disrespectful, he'll walk up to you two and bluntly state that you're taken, then leave immediately. he won't waste his time with assholes and perverts.
RAIDEN would feel a little awkward. he trusts you, so it's not that he's unhappy with you, but he feels uncomfortable for you. he's a very calm and civil man, so he usually tries to avoid confrontation. but when it comes to you? especially when the person is making you uncomfortable? he has no problem politely telling that person off and walking away with you. he'll later reassure you by reminding you that assholes and creeps will always be around, but so will he.
doesn't get jealous (because he gives you scary dog privileges):
KENSHI TAKAHASHI wouldn't feel jealous at all if someone were to hit on you. he knows his partner is wonderful, so of course other people are going to approach you. besides, he knows he looks a bit intimidating with his tattoos, muscles, and confident aura. weirdos that flirt with you will back off when they see kenshi casually put his arm around you as you talk to the person, as if he's daring them to try something. his years involved with the yakuza have made him fearless. he has witnessed the wrath of man many times, so he has no issue teaching another one a lesson if he must.
BARAKA is like a guard dog. with his physique and face? yeah, nobody is messing with you or even approaching you. he usually feels very guilty about this, advising you to leave him due to the embarrassment of being associated with him. but sometimes, his curse can be a blessing to ward off perverts. it fills him with a very rare sense of pride, being able to protect you just by standing by you.
GENERAL SHAO definitely gives you scary dog privileges. he's well-respected in outworld, so everyone usually respects you, his partner, as well. this can be a double-edged sword, however. while outworlders often avoid you out of respect, it is also out of fear of the general's wrath. it's hard for you to walk around anywhere without stares or people trembling in fear, afraid to upset you. not because they're intimidated by you, but because the general has made it very clear that if anyone (especially his soldiers) were to treat you with anything but respect, they'll get an axe to the head.
he's instilled this fear into everyone's head, so you aren't harassed when you are alone. the general is often busy with his own endeavors, so he likely won't be there to defend you instantly. that's why he is very strict with his soldiers when it comes to you. you won't need his immediate protection as long as he makes sure everyone follows his rigid commands.
REIKO, similar to the general, has earned respect among outworlders for his strength and tenacity. while you aren't as feared as you would be with the general, reiko still has his ways of making sure you aren't bothered. because unlike the general, he has slightly more time on his hands to accompany you in your free time. when strolling around outworld, it is not uncommon to get a few stares, but reiko is brave enough to stare back at people with the fury of a true warrior. he has the scars on his back and calluses on his hands to prove his fighting spirit that nobody is reckless enough to challenge.
QUAN CHI is either hated, feared, or respected by everyone. nobody is going to mess with you as long as he is around. with his sorcery, he'll have no problem cleaning up the rodents that attempt to flirt with you. you won't even get the chance to reject anyone, since he's always ready to harm anyone that even dares to look at what is his.
BI-HAN, similar to the general, has already warned everyone in the lin kuei of the consequences that come with disrespecting you. he laid out many rules on how they should interact with you. if anyone among the clan dares to break these terms he drilled into their heads, they will be met with a harsh punishment. he won't tolerate rulebreakers.
and that's what he did on the day someone broke his rules and drunkenly flirted with you. the problem is, he would also be angry at you. bi-han firmly believes that you should be strong enough to protect yourself when he isn't there. if the person that was hitting on you starts to go a bit too far, and you are unable to stop them, bi-han ends up blaming you for their actions. despite having a myriad of punishment methods in his mind, he still wants you to fend for yourself anyway. he is upset for weeks after the incident. it is unclear whether bi-han is angry at himself and taking it out on you, or if he is truly delusional enough to blame you for an incident you never asked for.
gets jealous, but handles it rationally:
JOHNNY CAGE is used to people hitting on him. he's sexy, and an actor, which is a dangerous combo to date. he's made it very clear in private that he would never leave or cheat on you for someone else, and he ignores the numerous amounts of supermodels and fellow actors that attempt to date or sleep with him. you've gotten used to it overtime, as you already discussed your boundaries with him. but you two have never discussed what to do if you are the one being hit on.
if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, he'd butt into the conversation, putting his arm around you and saying: "yeah, my partner's smokin' hot, aren't they?"
he'd start to brag about you and the person would probably get annoyed and walk away. you can't tell if johnny was jealous and purposefully drove them away, or if he just wanted to use the opportunity to talk about you at length. perhaps it was both. you'll never know.
KUNG LAO is infamous for being cocky and prideful. some find his confidence charming, others dislike him and read his personality as arrogant rather than confident. so how could kung lao possibly be jealous? well, the answer is: he isn't. or at least that's how he appears.
he's the type of guy to love showing you off. he's protective, but proud. he'll walk around with his arm wrapped around your waist, with his head held high knowing you only belong to him and nobody else. which is why his ego is so hurt when someone has the audacity to hit on you. did they not clearly see that you're together? kung lao is more personally offended than possessive over you. he won't visibly get angry or anything, just mildly annoyed. he'll become touchier, giving you more kisses and compliments than usual. if you questioned his behavior, he'd respond with a playful: "what? am i not allowed to love my partner?" emphasizing the latter end of the sentence for everyone in the room to hear.
gets jealous, and does not handle it rationally:
SHANG TSUNG, similar to kung lao, is prideful enough to enjoy showing you off. but shang tsung tends to be sassier and hold grudges. while he lets you express yourself and wear/do whatever you want, he didn't expect it to backfire when someone ends up being attracted to you and attempting to court you. but he doesn't do anything about it. he stands from afar and waits for your conversation to be over.
you reject the person and go back to him, but shang tsung would spitefully ignore you. he even started responding to you with sassy quips after you were hit on. you could attempt to make amends with him by trying to initiate a conversation, until this little shit rolls his eyes and says something along the lines of: "why don't you go have fun with your partner?"
you'll never know if he's simply overdramatizing his jealousy to hide it, or if he's just being his usual petty self to get a reaction out of you.
TAKEDA TAKAHASHI is a young man focused on his endeavors. it's not that he doesn't care about you, but he (unfortunately) must keep his distance from you sometimes. your relationship is secret for the sake of your safety. nobody knows that you two are together, so it doesn't surprise him that you are flirted with every now and then. takeda does, in fact, feel jealous. he's not just jealous that they get to openly show their affection towards you, but he's also a bit insecure at times. he knows you won't leave him so easily, but there's still the nasty thought that creeps in the back of his head every now and then, telling him that you deserve better and he can't give you the love you deserve.
TOMAS VRBADA is usually a confident man. he may be kind and generous, but that doesn't make him weak. he's been a hardworking fighter since childhood. he's garnered an impressive amount of experience and intelligence regarding the battlefield over time. but romantically? he doesn't have as much experience. you're probably one of, if not the first relationship he's ever been in.
so, when you're hit on, he isn't quite sure what to do. he understands that the person flirting with you probably just doesn't know you're not single. tomas would speak up and calmly mention that you're already taken. the person that was flirting with you would scoff after seeing tomas, telling you something along the lines of: "him? really? you could do better." instead of causing a scene, tomas ignores the person and leaves with you.
but hours later, it still bothers him, even though he pretends it doesn't. he thinks about your relationship and wonders if you really could do better. he tries his best to be as loving as possible towards you, despite his inexperience in romantic relationships. but with his cluelessness, conflict with the lin kuei, and trying to build up the shirai ryu? he doesn't have a lot of time for you, so he understands if you wanted to leave him. it's a thought that will haunt him for days if you don't notice his behavior and ask him about it.
SYZOTH has always been secretly insecure during your relationship. he fears that you may leave him due to his zaterran blood. plus, after his family was killed by shang tsung, he has been afraid of losing you like he lost them. sometimes he fears he is too clingy, and other times he fears he isn't attentive enough. it makes him feel as if he isn't enough for you. these fears are only enabled by someone flirting with you. his mood would immediately turn sour after witnessing that interaction, until you reject that person and put them in their place. as appreciative as he is for your loyalty, (and flustered to hear how much you care about him) he still can't shake his anxieties away.
you'll likely have to comfort him and reassure him that you will always stay with him, not bothered by his struggles. you must be the one to bring it up though, because syzoth is too afraid to admit that he is jealous. he'll keep it bottled up until you notice his behavior.
ZEFFEERO's pride gets in the way of admitting his true feelings most of the time. you've helped make him more comfortable being vulnerable, but it's only natural that the high mage refuses to admit when he's jealous. it was hard enough to court you; even harder to watch as someone attempts to court you for themselves. it annoys him to watch someone think they can just flirt with you. it enrages him even more when they refuse to take no for an answer and persist in their catcalling. with his blood boiling, he struggles to contain his emotions and stop himself from resorting to violence.
after the incident is over and you dealt with it on your own, he refuses to leave your side in public ever again. whatever gathering or meeting you must attend, he'll be there too. that way, it'll ease his anxieties and make sure you are safe and comfortable. even though you've shown you're capable of taking care of yourself and staying loyal to him, his jealousy drives him to believe that you need him.
a secret fifth worse thing:
HAVIK... yeah you probably guessed he'd have an entire category to himself. it is very difficult to tell how havik feels when someone else flirts with you. is he angry at them for trying to take you? not quite. his beliefs are bent on freedom, so it isn't like you're tied down to him in any way. but at the same time, he can't help but feel a bit hurt, maybe even a bit betrayed at the thought of you leaving him. he doesn't have anyone else. he's been forced to fight for himself after a painful past in seido, then seeking retribution ever since. nobody has condoned his acts since drowning its capital. anyone that isn't on his side is considered his enemy. you're the last person he considers an ally.
you're also the only person that sees his vulnerable, traumatized side that he often disguises with anger. his wrath has tormented him for years, driving him to insanity and believing it is okay to kill anyone that opposes him. it was a miracle that you were able to see through his mask of anger and show love and support towards him, which are two things he isn't used to. that's why he can't help but feel irked by someone attempting to court you. you're the only person that has genuinely loved and cared for him, even after the things he has done. now that he's had a taste of what love and affection is like, he's not going to let you leave him that easily.
he tells himself that he doesn't need an ally, and he can help bless millions with anarchy and chaos by himself, but deep down, he still selfishly wants you for himself. he would feel more comfortable in his rebellion with you staying at his side rather than leaving him for someone else. so yes, he does feel jealousy, (and fear that you'll leave him) but he refuses to admit it and conjures up a lie that you need each other, convincing himself of a false idea rather than facing the truth that his strong desires of "freedom" magically go out the window when it comes to you.
Those acting skills kicked in the instant the sourness hit. Which means you can still clearly tell he’s feeling it hard.
His sunglasses mask the fluttered squinting somewhat until he takes them off to put his head in his hand.
For once he’s speechless, and you almost tell him to just spit it out but he refuses with a slow headshake against his palm.
Actually manages to hold on until the candy sweetens, to which he glares at you, slick forehead-ass. How could you do that to him… He could have died..
Kenshi:
He knows. His ancestors told on you.
Tries the candy to humor you, and because he wants to (see) you happy. Taken aback at first because since becoming blind, his other senses have heightened and taste is no exception.
Still handles it better than Johnny, but if his eyes still worked he’d be squeezing them like lemons right now.
Quietly puts it back in its wrapper once it sweetens. Kind of a let-down reaction, but it’s cute to see his tongue blue when he says “Yeah it’s… Sour.”
Bi Han:
Completely oblivious when you hand it to him. It’s blue so he’s inclined to eat it
His usual scrunched brows inflate in the splittest second once the sour hits, thinks you’ve moronically given him a poisoned substance without realizing.
He spits it out on his hand when you try to tell him no, it’s not an assasination attempt, it’s just candy. Not amused.
Slings it hundreds of feet away before you hear a distant vehicular collision.
Tomas Vrbada:
Put the candy in his mouth with no hesitation since he trusts you. Trust revoked.
Still has it in his mouth but glares at you with saucer eyes. Once he sees you grinning, realizes you’ve done this on purpose and hollers.
Fans his face as wisps of smoke flutter at his hand, remembers his Lin Kuei ninja training.
Gets through it!! Cries a little while you give him back pats.
Syzoth:
Puts it in his mouth and swallows it whole.
He still doesn’t catch that you tried to prank him. It was a bit tangy, sure, but was that it?
Has a reduced sense of taste since he’s a reptile so this is nothing for him. It does give a nice tingle, though.
Asks for more, you give him one more. Looks confused at your own confusion and extends his hand for more. More-
Stuffs them in his mouth like popcorn.
Baraka:
Inspects the candy between his sharp nails with hesitation until you say he doesn’t have to try it if he doesn’t want to.
You saying it like that makes him secretly happy :DD so he eats it, close to crunching until the sour hits.
Tries to spit it out instinctively but his teeth are in the way..
The sour candy ricochets in his poor jaws like a pinball machine.
Ends up accidentally swallowing it. I hope you’re happy.
Bi-Han turned, narrowly dodging the assassin’s blade. In a single motion he conjured an ice dagger and buried it in his attacker’s throat. The body hit the ground before the frost had time to fade. He spun to help you, only to find you had already dispatched your opponent with equal efficiency.
A quick scan of the clearing told him there were only a few enemies left.
Liu Kang had tasked Bi-Han with recovering a set of sacred scrolls stolen from one of the temple archives by a group of rogue assassins. Normally, he would have sent Kuai Liang or Tomas—but both were already on their own missions. The Grandmaster accepted the mission with his usual brand of silent resentment.
The last assassin collapsed with a wet gasp. You wiped your blade clean and glanced at Bi-Han. His expression didn’t change—of course it didn’t—but the faint rise and fall of his chest betrayed the effort.
“That all of them?” you asked, still high on adrenaline.
Bi-Han nodded once, scanning the treeline. “For now. Let’s make camp.”
You snorted. “Camp? There’s a village half a mile from here with actual beds. Unless you plan to spoon a snowdrift?”
His glare could have frozen time itself. “Very well,” he said, clipped and cool. “But do not expect comfort.”
The forest grew meaner with every mile. Wind slipped through the branches in thin, icy threads, and even Bi-Han’s breath began to frost in the air. You kept talking—about the mission, about how Liu Kang definitely owed you both hazard pay—but most of what you got in return were low grunts and the occasional sideways glance that counted as acknowledgment from the Grandmaster.
The cold bit harder the deeper you went. Snow gathered on your shoulders; your fingers stiffened around your weapon. Bi-Han noticed, of course he did. He didn’t comment, just lengthened his stride enough that you had to jog to keep up.
By the time the village appeared through the flurries, the wind had turned feral. Streets buzzed with townsfolk hammering shutters and hauling carts under cover. Lanterns swung wildly above half-frozen merchants shouting last-minute prices.
You trailed Bi-Han to the only inn with smoke curling from its chimney. The air inside smelled of damp wood and cheap ale. The clerk looked up, saw the Lin Kuei armor, and immediately stopped smiling.
“One room.” Bi-Han said, voice flat as sleet.
The poor man nodded so fast his hat nearly flew off. “O-of course, sir. The finest room we have.”
You didn’t think much of it until the door upstairs clicked open to reveal exactly one bed.
Silence stretched thin.
“…Huh.”
“…”
“I’ll just ask if—”
“It will suffice.”
You bit back a laugh and began unpacking. “You know, most people would say something about the mistake.”
He set his gear beside the wall, perfectly aligned, as if order itself could compensate for the lack of a second bed. “Most people are not Grandmaster.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing your towel. “Fine, Grandmaster. I’ll take the right side. Try not to freeze the room while I’m in the shower, hmm?”
He didn’t respond, but the faint twitch near his eye betrayed some internal commentary.
When the bathroom door shut and water began to run, Bi-Han sat at the desk and unrolled a parchment. Ink bled steadily beneath his gloved hand as he recorded the mission’s details—routes, kills, artifacts recovered—but his focus kept slipping.
The rhythm of water against tile, the occasional soft hum from your voice—it was too steady, too human, too distracting.
He told himself it was irritation. Distraction was weakness. Yet the truth settled in his chest like thawing ice: warm, unfamiliar, and impossible to ignore.
When it came to you, everything was distracting. And that, he decided, was unacceptable.
He dipped the quill again, jaw tight. “..Tch.” he tsked, forcing himself back to the page.
Bi-Han wrote until his hand cramped. The final lines of the report blurred in the lamplight, his mind wandering against his will. The sound of your humming filled the room again, light and aimless, and for reasons he couldn’t name it eased something in him. It was unfamiliar—peace, maybe. Dangerous either way.
When the ink dried, he cleaned the quill with deliberate precision, set the parchment aside, and extinguished half the candles. The storm outside had grown heavier, pressing cold against the shutters. He sat on the edge of the bed for a long time before lying back, hands folded over his chest, eyes shut as if pretending to rest would help him stop thinking.
At first it was harmless: the cadence of your voice, the way you’d laughed at the inn clerk’s nervous stammer. Then his thoughts shifted, unbidden, to the curve of your smile, the warmth of your skin when your hand had brushed his in the forest. He couldn’t help but think how your hand would feel in his. The heat that followed was sudden and traitorous.
He forced a slow breath through his nose, every muscle locking in refusal. Control. He was in control.
The bathroom door opened with a soft click. Steam rolled into the room, carrying the faint scent of soap and something floral.
You stepped out, towel wrapped around you, skin still dewy from the heat. “Bathroom’s all yours.” you said, sweetly, unaware of his inner turmoil.
Bi-Han didn’t move for a full second too long. Then he sat up sharply, eyes fixed anywhere but on you. “Understood.” His voice sounded rougher than intended.
He crossed the room in clipped strides, grabbing his own towel like a man on a mission. The door shut behind him harder than necessary.
You blinked after him, towel shifting in your hands, and just shrugged his behaviour off.
Left alone with the sound of the storm, you dressed in comfortable clothes, combed through your hair, and began your nightly routine. The mirror above the desk caught your reflection—soft lighting, faintly flushed cheeks—and you tried not to think about how strange it felt to share a room with the most unreadable man alive.
Behind the bathroom door, the water ran cold enough to bite. Leftover steam clung to the mirrors and tiles, blurring Bi-Han’s reflection into a pale ghost. He dragged a wet hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, cold air leaving his lungs in a faint mist.
He tried to empty his mind, to focus on the rhythm of water striking skin, but discipline refused to take hold. Images crept in anyway—flushed skin, the faint peeking of cleavage still touched by steam, the glint of water trailing down a throat. They flickered and vanished, only to return harder, sharper.
A low sound escaped him, equal parts irritation and disbelief. He scrubbed at his arms as if effort alone could scour the thoughts away, lowering his body temperature until the chill stung. ‘Control’, he reminded himself, the word more command than comfort.
At the desk outside, you were still humming, pen scratching steadily across parchment as you drafted your own mission report. The sound of the storm grew heavier against the windows; snow pressed white against the glass until the world beyond disappeared entirely.
You glanced up, sighing. “Perfect,” you muttered to no one. The wind howled in answer.
It was obvious the storm wouldn’t let up soon. The streets had emptied, shutters sealed tight, and a thin layer of frost was already creeping over the window frame. The thought of being trapped here with the ever-pleasant cryomancer for days made you groan softly.
“Elder Gods, if you have any mercy,” you whispered, “keep the lights on.”
The wind howled and beat harshly against the window in response.
You sank back in the chair, tapping your pen against the page. Somewhere behind the bathroom door, water still ran. Bemused, you wondered briefly what could possibly take Bi-Han so long—then decided you probably didn’t want to know.
You finished your notes and stacked everything neatly on the desk, finally allowing yourself to sink into the bed with a book in hand. The satin fabric of your sleep set—pastel blue fading into lilac—caught the lamplight as you pulled the blankets over your legs.
The room felt a little colder than before. A faint draft brushed your left side, and you shivered just as the bathroom door opened.
Bi-Han stepped out, hair still damp, a thin ribbon of mist curling behind him. He wore plain dark sweats and nothing else—no armor, no layers, just unguarded skin and muscle carved by years of discipline. For a second, you forgot how to breathe.
He muttered under his breath as he toweled his hair dry, grumbling about the “inefficiency of inns” and how he would much rather be at the Lin Kuei temple. The sound of his voice—low, irritated—snapped you out of your staring. You dropped your gaze back to your book before he could notice.
“The shower decent?” you asked lightly, trying for casual.
He answered with a grunt, rummaging through his pack before setting it down by the wall. A moment later, the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat on the far side of the bed.
You smiled faintly, eyes still on the page. “You might as well get comfortable. We’ll probably be here longer than a night.”
He turned his head, frowning. “Explain.”
You tilted your chin toward the window. The glass was already fogging over; outside, snow came down in sheets, thick and unbroken. The wind howled around the eaves like something alive.
“The storm’s only getting worse,” you said. “If it keeps up, we’ll be snowed in by morning.”
Bi-Han’s expression darkened. “Unacceptable.”
“Not much you can do about it, Bi-Han. Unless you plan on freezing a tunnel out.”
He didn’t bother responding, but his gaze followed yours to the window. The sky was an endless swirl of white, and even he could admit defeat against nature. He exhaled, the faintest wisp of cold curling from his breath.
“The power might go out if the winds pick up,” you added quietly.
That, at least, earned a flicker of concern. He scanned the room quickly—walls, ceiling, the dim light trembling against the shadows—until his eyes landed on the stone hearth tucked beside the desk. Good. There would be firewood if the heat failed.
He gave a silent nod to the Elder Gods, a rare concession to luck.
For now, the only sound was the storm hammering at the windows and the slow, even rustle of pages turning between your fingers.
Bi-Han studied you quietly from his side of the bed. The lamplight softened the edges of the room, catching the sheen of your satin clothes as you read. For a moment, his gaze traced the colors—the pale blue, the faint lilac—and how they set off the warmth of your skin. Beautiful, yes, but more than that, alive.
He told himself he was only checking for injuries. The assassins hadn’t been skilled, but they’d been many, and he’d seen you take a few hard blows. His eyes lingered at your shoulder, your wrist, cataloguing the faint marks he could see.
“Are you injured?” he asked, voice low.
You looked up from your book, smiling at his tone. “Worried about me, Grandmaster?”
“I see no reason for you to sound so amused.”
“I’m fine. Just a few bruises. They’ll be gone by morning.”
You let your gaze wander in return—part curiosity, part payback. His chest rose evenly, unmarred; his arms were a map of old battles, not fresh ones. “And you? No damage from the terrible, lowly assassins?”
He made a quiet sound that could have been a scoff. “If such rabble had harmed me, it would be unacceptable.”
You grinned. “Right. Forgive me, my ice princess.”
That earned you a sharp glare. “Watch your tongue. I am your Grandmaster.”
You laughed, bright and unbothered. “Yes, yes. My apologies, oh mighty one.”
For all his grumbling, you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth before he turned away.
The two of you drifted into easier talk—half-serious, half-sarcastic—until the fatigue from the day finally pulled at your limbs. When you set the book aside, you offered a soft, “Goodnight, Bi-Han.”
He grunted something noncommittal but didn’t move. You smiled to yourself and rolled over, each of you keeping to your own side of the bed.
Sometime in the night, the world went dark.
The hum of the lanterns faded, leaving only the roar of the storm beyond the walls. The temperature dropped fast; your breath puffed white in the dark.
“Fantastic,” you muttered, teeth chattering. The thin satin did little against the cold, and goosebumps chased up your arms. You slipped from the bed as quietly as you could, padding across the floor to the small hearth.
After a few stubborn sparks and a whispered curse, flames caught. The orange light painted the room in flickers and shadows, the chill easing just enough to breathe.
You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and settled on the rug, book in hand, the fire’s warmth brushing your face. Sleep could wait. Outside, the storm still howled; inside, it was only you, the fire, and the soft rhythm of Bi-Han’s breathing behind you.
The fire crackled softly as you turned another page, the storm outside a steady hiss against the windows. Somewhere behind you, a low sound broke the rhythm—a faint rumble, rough and uneven.
You looked back over your shoulder. Nothing seemed out of place at first. Then your eyes landed on Bi-Han. He’d shifted in his sleep, one arm tucked under his head, the other draped over the pillow. The sound came again, and you realized it wasn’t thunder at all. He was the source.
A quiet laugh slipped from you. “Even asleep, you’re complaining,” you murmured, shaking your head.
You turned back to your book, letting the pages pull you in again, but the next sound wasn’t a grumble. It was lower, drawn out—something that made the fire’s warmth feel suddenly different. You froze, heart thudding once, twice. Maybe you’d imagined it.
Then it happened again. A low, rough and gravely moan.
Heat crept up your neck. You tried to focus on the words in front of you, but they blurred. You’d spent years with this man—fighting beside him, arguing with him, watching him command the Lin Kuei with all the grace of a winter storm—and somewhere along the way you’d fallen for the rare moments when he wasn’t a storm at all. When he was simply… human.
That’s what you told yourself, anyway, as you set the book aside and rose to your feet. Concern. That was all it was.
He lay on his stomach, the blankets pushed low around his waist, the firelight tracing the sharp lines of muscle and scar across his back. You took a hesitant step closer. His breathing was heavy but uneven, a soft sound escaping that might have been pain.
“Bi-Han?” you whispered.
He didn’t stir. You frowned, scanning his side for any sign of injury he might have hidden earlier. The next breath he took came out in a faint cloud of frost, his brow creasing as if caught in some uneasy dream.
Before you could decide whether to wake him, he shifted, rolling onto his back. The movement startled you; your breath caught as you froze in place. But his eyes stayed closed.
He was still asleep.
You exhaled slowly, pulse racing for reasons you didn’t care to name, and let the fire’s glow soften the edges of the room once more.
You stood there longer than you meant to, eyes tracing the lines of his body where the light from the fire met the cool tone of his skin. Years of discipline had carved strength into every movement; even in sleep, he looked like a weapon sheathed.
You’d always known he was handsome, but seeing him this unguarded made something twist deep inside you—admiration, affection, something harder to name. It was the first time you’d really seen the cost of all that control etched into him: the scars, the stillness, the weight of command.
Then the sound came again—low, rough—and as you dared looked even further down, you suddenly understood the tension knotted through his frame. Heat flooded your face before the thought had fully formed. You turned away sharply, pressing a hand to your mouth, heart hammering against your ribs.
This was dangerous territory. Whatever storm he was caught in, waking him now would only make things worse—for him or for you.
You took a steadying breath, trying to will your pulse back to normal. The sensible thing would be to sit back down, pretend you’d seen nothing, and wait for morning.
But curiosity was a trait you’d never learned to tame.
You took a slow breath and stepped closer, the sound of the storm muffled under the steady rhythm of his breathing. Carefully, you set a hand against his chest, meaning only to wake him gently. For an instant your fingers moved of its own accord, tracing a small circle over the steady pulse beneath your palm. Then you froze, realizing what you were doing.
“Bi-Han,” you whispered. “Wake up.”
His reaction was instant. His hand shot up, closing around your wrist with a force that startled you—not painful, just a reflex born of years of battle. He sat up in one smooth motion, eyes sharp, scanning the shadows.
“What happened?” His voice was low and rough, still half caught in whatever dream he’d been fighting. “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, no. Everything’s fine. I just… you were making noises in your sleep. I thought maybe you were hurt.”
The tension in his grip eased, but he didn’t immediately let go. His gaze finally settled on your face, searching for something in it. The silence stretched. You could feel the coolness of his skin under your palm, the faint tremor of his breathing.
Then something flickered behind his eyes—realization, maybe. His hand dropped away as if burned. He turned his face from you, jaw tight, shoulders rigid.
“I’m fine,” he said, voice clipped. “It was nothing.”
You hesitated, still close enough to feel the cold radiating from him where the heat had been a moment before.
“If you say so,” you murmured, stepping back to give him space.
He only grunted in reply, the sound rough with embarrassment, and the two of you sat there with the fire crackling quietly between you—neither willing to name what had just passed.
You walked to your side and slipped back under the covers, the mattress dipping softly beneath your weight. Bi-Han hadn’t moved much; he sat with his back slightly to you, shoulders rigid, every line of him carved tight.
You hesitated, then reached out, letting your fingers rest lightly on his shoulder. “Bi-Han… are you sure you’re all right? Is there anything I can do?”
He went even stiller. You felt a faint shiver run through him—not from cold this time, but from something that thickened the air between you, electric and dangerous.
In the dim firelight, his breath came uneven, and for a moment you wondered what ghosts his dreams had left behind.
He stood suddenly, every motion too sharp. His hand raked through his hair, leaving it more disordered than before. A low sound escaped him, half sigh, half growl of frustration.
“Yes,” he said at last, the word ground out between his teeth.
Before you could answer, he turned on his heel and crossed the room, disappearing into the bathroom without another word.
The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with the crackle of the fire and the echo of everything unspoken.
Bi-Han breathed harshly as the door shut behind him. He gripped the edges of the sink, bowing his head, utterly stunned by the disaster he’d just lived through. Never—not once in all his carefully disciplined life—had he imagined he would lose control in front of you of all people.
His father had carved restraint into him like scripture. Kuai Liang would have looked away out of respect… before laughing later. Tomas would have laughed immediately.
Bi-Han was mortified. Truly, painfully mortified.
Heat rushed through him again at the memory, and he cursed under his breath. He had the nerve to react like that in front of the one person he should always remain composed around. If the Elder Gods had a sense of humor, they were surely entertained at his expense.
You were probably amused too. How could you not be?
Another low groan tore from him. In his frustration, he hadn’t even noticed the frost spreading over the sink until it crackled beneath his palms. He forced himself to breathe, slowly thawing the surface. None of this helped the situation; the lingering desire coiled in him stubbornly refused to disappear.
He splashed his face with freezing water until the shock dulled the heat beneath his skin. After a moment, he straightened, meeting his own reflection. His hair was a mess, his expression strained—he barely recognized himself like this.
Enough. He would handle nothing tonight except his pride.
When he finally stepped back into the room, the fire had dwindled and you were already asleep, bundled under the blankets. The faint orange glow painted your face in soft, peaceful lines. Something in his chest tightened.
He knelt by the hearth, feeding the flames just enough to keep the cold at bay for you. Only after the warmth resumed did he return to the bed, slipping silently beneath the sheets.
For a moment, he simply looked at you.
You—his greatest irritation.
His sharpest thorn.
The only one whose presence unraveled him.
And the person he trusted more than anyone.
The most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.
The one Kuai insisted he pursue.
The one Tomas teased him about endlessly.
The one he’d grown to love, quietly and without permission.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, control rebuilt brick by brick over the frantic beating of his own heart.
Sleep would not come easily—not tonight. But if losing control meant losing it because of you, he wasn’t entirely sure he minded.
The first rays of morning crept across your face, warm enough to coax you out of sleep. You frowned at the intrusion, groaning softly before your eyes finally fluttered open. For a moment, you simply lay there, letting your waking mind make sense of your surroundings.
The hearth had gone cold.
The power was back.
The air held a crisp winter bite…
And you couldn’t move.
A weight pressed across your stomach—solid, heavy, unmistakably human.
Your breath caught.
You looked down.
An arm. His arm. Draped over your waist, relaxed in a way you’d never seen from him while awake. Every muscle in your body locked, heat flooding your face as your brain pieced together the situation.
Bi-Han was holding you.
In his sleep.
Like it was natural.
A small, traitorous smile curved at your lips.
In a hazy moment of wishful thinking—or madness—you let yourself settle back against him. Just to savor it. Just for a second.
He made a low sound, something deep and instinctive, and tightened his hold around you. His body fit against yours with unintentional precision.
That’s when you felt it.
The heat blooming against you. The kind that had startled you the night before.
Your breath hitched. A tremor ran through you, unbidden, and you—heedless, reckless—eased closer. Barely an inch, just enough to—
Bi-Han inhaled sharply.
Before your mind could process the consequences, his body reacted. He shifted against you, slow, unconscious, driven by some lingering dream that refused to let go. The movement sent a shiver through him, a helpless sound caught low in his throat.
Your face burned. Your pulse thudded.
You should have pulled away.
But instead, you let yourself stay—caught between shock and rising heat, your own breath growing unsteady at the feel of him, the weight of him, the unmistakable want he hadn’t meant to reveal.
Tentatively, almost without thinking, you moved against him again. The situation was absurd, overwhelming, impossible—yet it set every nerve in your body alight. How many times had you dreamed of waking like this? Wrapped in his arms, feeling him pressed against you with no layers, no distance, no restraint?
It felt too vivid to be real.
Behind you, Bi-Han stirred.
At first, the shift was small—his breathing deepened, his hand tightening around you as if he feared you’d slip away. A soft sound escaped him, rough and dazed, and the chill of it brushed your ear.
He wasn’t fully awake, not yet. Whatever dream had hold of him blurred the edges of his consciousness, leaving him unguarded. The sensation of you against him drew a quiet, helpless sound from his throat, something that ran straight down your spine.
Then, all at once, he froze.
You felt it the instant it happened.
Every muscle locked.
His grip went rigid.
His breath hitched sharply.
Awareness crashed into him like a wave—sharp, cold, undeniable. He processed the warmth wrapped against him, the closeness, the tension still humming through his body, and the fact that he was holding you, not a dream.
You barely had time to panic before instinct betrayed you—you moved again, a small, needy grind born from heat and confusion, unaware he was already awake.
The reaction was immediate.
A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, brushing against your skin like a spark. Frost seemed to tingle in the air as his breath swept the back of your neck.
‘…interesting,’ he thought, the last remnants of sleep burning away as something sharper took their place. The initial shock faded quickly, replaced by a slow, coiling heat that curled at the edges of his restraint.
You really believed a move like that would go unnoticed?
Or unanswered?
A dark, wicked thrill flickered through him at the thought. You had no idea what kind of reaction you’d just woken—what kind of ideas you’d stirred loose in him.
Surely, you didn’t expect him to simply let that go. Not when you’d pressed yourself against him so sweetly.
Not when you’d sounded so desperate for more.
Your entire body went rigid.
You turned your head slowly, heart pounding out of rhythm, only to find his eyes still closed… but a faint, unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“…B–Bi-Han…?” you whispered, voice trembling.
He hummed lazily, arms tightening around your waist, his breath cool and warm all at once against your cheek.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and something far heavier.
“M-morning…” you breathed.
His smirk deepened. “Feeling good, snowflake?” he asked, tone low and teasing, laced with a heat that made your pulse stutter.
“A-ah—I… I’m sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to— I just—”
Words failed you completely. Your brain scrambled for an excuse that didn’t exist.
Because no matter what you said, it absolutely looked like what it was.
“Mm…? Weren’t trying to what?” His voice curved around your ear, low and amused. “Move against me like that?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks so fast it nearly stung. You let out a soft, helpless sound, equal parts flustered and frustrated at how easily he could unravel you with a single sentence.
He chuckled against your skin. “Then what were you trying to do, hmm?”
His lips brushed your shoulder—barely a kiss, more like a promise. The touch sent a tremor spiraling through you. You instinctively tilted your head, baring more of your neck as he traced a slow line upward. Every ghosting kiss made your breath hitch, your pulse quicken.
“…just wanted to… help you…” you whispered, the words spilling out in a dazed tumble. You grinded against him again, instinct guiding you more than thought, wordlessly showing him what you meant.
Bi-Han’s breath caught. His hands tightened on your hips, guiding you closer, drawing a low sound from deep in his chest.
“How considerate,” he murmured, voice thick with heat and control. “My snowflake… always eager to please her Grandmaster.”
A shiver raced down your spine at the praise, at the way he said mine without even trying to hide it. His hands swept along your sides, tracing the lines of your body with slow, deliberate reverence. You felt the contrast—his rough, calloused palms against your warm, sensitive skin.
In one smooth motion, he shifted his weight and flipped you onto your back, bracing himself above you. The room spun for a heartbeat before you stilled beneath him, caught in the intensity of his gaze.
Your face burned, breath unsteady, and he drank in every inch of it.
Bi-Han leaned down, his lips brushing yours—soft, fleeting, infuriating. A tease. A test.
You whimpered, trying to chase his mouth, but he pulled back just enough to make you feel the loss. His smirk was slow and devastating.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for you.
You squirmed beneath him—half anticipation, half frustration—until the need simmering in your belly snapped. Your fingers slid into his messy hair, gripping tight as you pulled him down to you.
He groaned against your mouth, biting lightly at your lower lip as if punishing you for your impatience. You didn’t care. Not when you finally had him close enough to taste.
His lips were cool, a shock of winter heat against your own, and you melted into the kiss with a soft, desperate sound. One arm wrapped around his neck, the other tugging at his hair again—enough to make him inhale sharply and roll his hips into yours with a low, helpless moan.
Bi-Han caught your legs and guided them around his waist, lowering himself over you until your bodies aligned in a way that made your breath break.
You whispered his name—half plea, half praise—as he deepened the kiss, slowly overwhelming every thought you had left.
When the need to breathe forced you apart, you both stayed close, foreheads nearly touching, breaths mingling in the heated quiet.
Bi-Han’s gaze darkened. Then he lowered his mouth to your throat, kissing slowly, possessively. Each touch grew hungrier, traveling down the curve of your neck and tracing the edge of your collarbone. His mouth left heated trails that would absolutely turn into marks later—evidence of exactly how much he wanted you.
He paused only to look up at you, drinking in the sight of your flushed face, your parted lips, the way you watched him like you’d fall apart without his touch.
“…May I?” he asked, voice a deep, low rumble. “Remove this?”
Your breath stuttered. “Y-yes… please.”
A satisfied hum vibrated in his chest as he slipped your top away with smooth, practiced care. He bent to your skin again, kissing the newly exposed warmth with slow, reverent attention—each brush of his mouth sending shivers through you, each touch making your back arch for more.
His cool hand slid along your side, shaping itself to you, exploring with a firm gentleness that stole your breath.
“So beautiful,” he murmured against you, voice thick with awe… and hunger.
You let out a broken moan, clutching at him, trying to pull him closer, deeper.
“Bi-Han…” you breathed. “Please… don’t tease.”
A soft, wicked chuckle ghosted over your skin as he nuzzled closer, lips brushing your nipple, making heat bloom all through you.
“I have no intention of teasing you,” he whispered, tightening his hold on your waist. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”
Bi-Han’s mouth trailed lower, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses down your torso. Every brush of his lips sent sparks skittering across your skin. By the time he reached the edge of your shorts, you were already trembling.
He glanced up at you—silent question, smoldering eyes.
You nodded, breath caught in your throat.
He slid the fabric down with deliberate care and the sudden exposure sent a rush of shyness through you. Instinct overtook desire for a moment, and you drew your legs together, hands covering what you could.
Bi-Han halted.
A low, displeased growl vibrated from his chest—not anger, but something intensely possessive.
“Do not hide from me, àirén,” he murmured, voice rough with wanting. “I want to see you.”
Your face burned, embarrassment warring with need, but the softness in his eyes steadied you. Slowly, you let your legs part again, revealing yourself to him.
His breath hitched.
Then he leaned in and began to kiss a slow path along your thigh. His lips were cool at first, warming with each press, each lingering nip. He worshiped the skin there, marking a trail inward—closer, closer—until your entire body trembled beneath him.
When his mouth finally brushed your core, the shock of sensation ripped a gasp from your throat.
You weren’t prepared. Not for the coolness of his mouth, not for the intensity of his hunger, not for the way he devoted himself to you without hesitation or restraint. His movements were deliberate yet greedy, as if he’d been waiting far too long for this moment.
Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling, body arching helplessly as you moaned his name again and again. The pleasure built faster than you could handle, rising sharp and bright through your core.
“B-Bi-Han—please… slow down…” you gasped, voice high and wavering as your legs threatened to close around him.
The sounds he made against you—raw, hungry, almost desperate—only pushed you further toward the edge. Every breath, every touch, every bit of devotion he poured into you sent your mind spiraling into white-hot static.
He wasn’t letting up.
He wasn’t holding back.
He was devouring you with the same intensity he brought to battle… except this time, every ounce of that power was focused entirely on you.
Your legs quivered helplessly around him as the pleasure built faster, tighter, threatening to snap.
You were already trembling when you grabbed his hair, tugging hard enough to pull a sharp groan from him.
“Bi-Han… please— I need you… I want you,” you gasped, voice cracking with desperation.
The words hit him like a physical blow.
But he didn’t stop.
If anything, the tension in his body sharpened, his grip tightening at your waist as he focused every bit of himself on pushing you over the brink. The way you tightened, the way your voice trembled—he wasn’t letting you go until he felt you unravel completely beneath him.
His own body reacted uncontrollably—restless, needy, grinding against the sheets as if he couldn’t help it—but he ignored all of it. Every thought, every bit of restraint, every ounce of his discipline was poured into you.
“Bi-Han—!” you cried out, your voice breaking as your back arched.
A wave of pleasure tore through you, fierce and blinding. You called his name again and again, your fingers digging into his hair, your thighs trembling around him as you shattered.
He groaned—low, reverent—holding you through every pulse of it, as if he wanted to memorize the way your body responded to him.
Only when the tremors eased did he finally ease his pace, kissing his way back up your body with slow, deliberate devotion. He gave you time to breathe, time to come back to yourself, each kiss grounding you again.
When your eyes fluttered open, he was hovering over you—eyes dark, expression undone. The sight of him like that, your slick dripping down his chin, made heat bloom in your chest all over again.
You reached up, threaded your fingers into his damp hair, and pulled him into a hungry kiss. The moment his body pressed against yours, you felt the hard line of need he’d been denying himself, and a soft moan spilled from your lips.
Your hands fumbled at the waistband of his pants, your desire rising all over again at the feel of him so close and so unrestrained.
Bi-Han groaned against your mouth, finally giving in. In one fluid motion, he pushed the fabric away, desperate for the closeness he’d been starving for. When he settled back against you, skin to skin, the heat where your bodies met made him hiss through his teeth.
He kissed you fiercely, breath ragged, as he moved against you—slow, deliberate, savoring every second of that intimate friction. It was enough to make both of you gasp, enough to make your body arch into his without thinking, enough to draw a curse from his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours.
He wasn’t inside you—not yet.
But he was close enough that both of you were shaking.
Bi-Han’s hands slid down your legs, gripping your thighs with a claim that made your breath stutter. He guided you open beneath him, the movement slow, deliberate, intimate. His body aligned with yours in a way that left no doubt about what he wanted—what both of you wanted.
Your heart thudded painfully hard.
He pressed forward, easing you closer, letting you feel the weight and heat of him against you. The anticipation alone tore a helpless moan from your lips.
“Y/N…” he breathed, voice breaking on your name.
You clung to him—one hand digging into his shoulder, the other fisting the sheets behind you—as your body trembled under the intensity of the moment. Every inch of him crowding over you, surrounding you, claiming space you’d secretly saved for him alone.
The burn of pressure, of closeness, of being opened so slowly under his weight, made your eyes flutter shut. A needy sound spilled from your throat before you could stop it.
Bi-Han groaned—a low, ruined sound that vibrated through your bones.
“So warm,” he murmured against your ear, words rough, voice shaking with restraint. “So eager for me.”
Your face flushed hot at his tone, at the praise that felt like it melted straight into your core.
When he finally pressed flush against you, a wave of dizzying fullness washed through you—overwhelming, perfect, almost too much. You gasped his name, fingers clutching at him as your back arched helplessly.
He paused—just for a moment—to look at you. Really look. Eyes dark, jaw tight, pulling air through his teeth like he was fighting not to lose control entirely.
“You alright, snowflake?” he whispered, voice low.
“Y-yes…” you breathed, barely holding yourself together. “Please… Bi-Han… move…”
His restraint snapped.
He pulled back just enough to draw a sharp gasp from you, then rolled his hips into yours with a deep, controlled push that tore a moan straight from your chest.
Your body reacted instantly—clenching, trembling, clinging to him—so intensely that he choked on a curse.
He started slowly at first, feeling out every shiver, every arch of your back, every breathless sound you made… then gradually gave you more. More depth, more intensity, more of him. His rhythm grew stronger, harder to contain, his body moving with a hunger he could no longer hide.
You were falling apart—words tangled, thoughts shattered, everything dissolving under the sensation of him and the heat of his breath on your throat.
Bi-Han’s smirk ghosted against your skin.
“Listen to you…” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. “Already losing yourself?”
You whined, grip tightening on his shoulder.
His chuckle was low and devastating.
“Has my snowflake gone a little mindless for me?” he teased, brushing his lips over yours without kissing you fully. “Is that what you wanted?”
You could only gasp his name—again, again, again—each one pulling another sound out of him in return.
“Yes—yes!” you cried, the word torn from you without thought.
Your hands flew to his back, nails dragging along his skin as you clung to him. Each scratch pulled a low, hungry hum from his throat, his body shuddering above yours as he took in every detail of your pleasure.
He shifted—slow, intentional—and found a place inside you that made your entire body seize with pure electricity. Your breath caught, your vision blurred, your spine arching helplessly beneath him.
Bi-Han watched all of it with dark, reverent hunger.
“Look at you…” he murmured, voice a deep rumble against your lips. “Falling apart so easily.”
He angled his hips again, grinding deeper into that perfect spot, his teasing words brushing against your ear like silk and fire. Your thoughts crumbled, your voice reduced to broken fragments.
“Bi-Han—please, I’m— I’m—” Your words dissolved into a helpless moan as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer, locking him against you.
The sudden pressure made him choke on a curse, his control splintering.
He pressed his forehead to yours, breath shaking, trying—failing—to keep himself steady.
“Don’t do that…” he growled softly. “You’ll tempt me to make you completely mine.”
Your back arched, a needy cry tearing from your throat.
“Please… make me yours… just yours…”
The sound he made was nothing human—low, guttural, possessive. His hands tightened on your hips, anchoring you beneath him.
“You want that?” he breathed, his voice trembling with restraint and want. “You want to belong to me?”
“Yes—ah—just you—only you, Grandmaster!” you gasped, the words ripped straight from your soul.
Something inside him snapped.
He buried his face in your neck, a harsh, desperate growl vibrating against your skin as his body moved with sudden, overwhelming intensity. His control shattered completely—every breath, every motion, every sound filled with raw, consuming hunger for you.
“Mine,” he snarled against your throat, the word reverent and feral all at once. “You’re mine—no one else touches you.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair as he held you firmly beneath him, his voice a low hiss against your ear.
“I’ll mark you so thoroughly…” he breathed, shivering as you tightened around him again, “everyone will know who you belong to.”
Your release hit you like a tidal wave.
“Bi-Han!” you cried, voice breaking as your entire body arched off the bed. Pleasure ripped through you so fiercely you could barely breathe. Your nails dragged down his back, marking him as instinctively as he’d marked you—proof etched into his skin that he was yours too.
He groaned at the feeling of you shuddering beneath him, continuing his movements just long enough to draw every last tremor from your body. Then, with a low, breathless sound—your name on his tongue—he tightened his grip on your waist and buried himself against you, shuddering through his own release.
You felt him tremble, his breath stuttering against your throat as he held you through the last waves of it.
Slowly—so slowly—his grip softened. He hovered over you, eyes half-lidded, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. The wildness from moments ago ebbed into something softer—warmer—something he didn’t show to anyone else.
When he finally leaned down to kiss you, it was nothing like before.
No hunger.
No dominance.
Just quiet apology and reverence.
Your fingers threaded gently into his hair, pulling him closer, returning his kiss with shaky tenderness. When you finally separated, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing in sync.
Bi-Han sat back on his heels, steadying himself before carefully pulling away from you. The moment he did, he paused—eyes roaming over the marks left on your skin and his release dripping from your core. His lips curled upward in a rare, quiet smirk at the sight.
Without a word, he rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth. He knelt beside you on the mattress, tending to you with a gentleness that made your chest ache.
You let out a soft moan—part soreness, part exhaustion—as he touched you. You closed your eyes, letting him care for you in silence, the intimacy of it somehow deeper than anything that came before.
And that’s when reality slammed back into you.
Now that the haze of desire had faded… your mind finally caught up.
Oh gods.
Oh gods.
You had just slept with your Grandmaster.
The man you’d been secretly in love with for years.
The same man you had—very clearly—begged to claim you.
Out loud.
Multiple times.
Heat rushed to your face in a violent wave.
You wanted the earth to open beneath the bed and swallow you whole.
What.
Had.
You.
Done.
You squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to the childish logic that if you didn’t look at him, maybe he couldn’t look back at you. Mortification curled tight in your stomach. You were absolutely, positively not ready to face the consequences of your actions.
You heard him move away from the bed—quiet steps, the soft clink of glass—and then return. A gentle tap on your arm made you flinch.
“Open your eyes,” he said—soft, not commanding.
You obeyed, hesitantly.
He sat beside you, a glass of water in hand, expression unreadable.
“Drink,” he murmured.
Your face burned. You took it, holding it with both hands, sipping carefully to avoid choking and humiliating yourself further. When you were done, you offered the empty glass back, throat tight.
“…Thank you,” you whispered. “For the water. And… for taking care of me.”
Your voice was still rough, worn thin from the amount of moaning you had done. Bi-Han’s eyes flicked over your face, lingering at the sound of it.
He didn’t speak immediately, just watched—too intensely, too deeply—until you squirmed under the weight of his silence. After a moment, he exhaled, a low, gravelly sound.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
You nodded quickly, gaze locked on the blanket instead of him.
He didn’t look convinced.
The silence between you thickened until he finally broke it, his voice low and edged with something you couldn’t name.
“Are you regretting your decision?”
Your head snapped up. “…What?”
His jaw clenched, eyes hooded. “Do you regret sleeping with me?” he repeated bluntly. “Are you already taking back the words you said earlier?”
Your breath caught.
And suddenly every desperate plea rushed back like a punch to the chest.
Please… make me yours… just yours…
Yes—ah—just you—only you, Grandmaster!
You wanted to crawl under the blankets and never emerge again.
But you forced the truth out anyway.
“…No. I don’t.”
You swallowed, staring at anything but him. “I don’t regret it.”
But the words hurt to say, because you knew what came next—knew how this story usually ended.
You looked away, heart sinking as the truth pressed down on you.
“But I know you don’t feel the same,” you whispered, ashamed. “It was just… stress relief. I helped you out. That’s all.”
You braced yourself for agreement.
For coldness.
For distance.
Because what else would a Grandmaster want from someone like you?
A heavy silence settled between you, more suffocating than any storm outside.
You refused to cry — you refused — even as your vision blurred and your throat tightened painfully. You would not fall apart in front of him. Not now. Not over this.
Bi-Han exhaled sharply, the sound low and frustrated.
“Such a foolish woman…” he muttered under his breath.
Before you could react, his hands were on you — firm but careful — lifting you and settling you in his lap as if you weighed nothing. His arms wrapped around your waist, caging you in, leaving absolutely no room to run from him or from the truth.
You stared at him wide-eyed as he tilted your chin up between two fingers, guiding your gaze to meet his.
“Do not think such foolishness again,” he said, voice firm but soft at the edges. “This was not a simple… release of stress for me. I do not act on such things lightly.”
Your breath stilled.
“And do not think,” he continued, gaze darkening, “that this was a one-time occurrence.”
You blinked, dazed, brain stuttering.
You couldn’t quite process the implication.
Not until his grip softened, fingers brushing along your cheek with surprising gentleness before returning to rest at your waist, holding you securely against him.
“I care for you far too deeply to allow that,” he said quietly.
The world stopped.
You searched his eyes — desperately — for a hint of deception, of pity, of anything that would confirm your fear.
You found none.
Only truth.
And something warm.
Something terrifyingly close to love.
“So…” your voice trembled, barely above a whisper, “does that mean you… like me back?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“You are mine,” he said simply. “As I am yours.”
The breath you’d been holding escaped in a shaky rush. Heat washed over your face as you ducked your head into his neck, hiding the smile you couldn’t stop. His scent wrapped around you — cold air, steel, and the faintest warmth he only ever showed you.
Your arms circled his shoulders, clinging to him with a relief so deep it ached.
“Understood?” he asked softly.
You nodded against his skin, melting completely into his hold.
“Good,” he murmured, pressing a quiet kiss to your temple.
He held you for another long moment before rising to his feet with you still in his arms, carrying you toward the bathroom with steady, confident steps.
You smiled against his throat, heart full, warm, and impossibly content.
Kinktober Day 21: Mating Season/Double penetration
👽: full kinktober list here ➜ 💌
🖇️: Syzoth x gn!reader
❌: NOT Proof Read
⚠️: NSFW/SMUT/kinda long sorry not sorry/he has two dicks/double penny/ambiguous genitalia/it’s mating season? Yeah/hence his behavior/(i fr did research on multiple lizards for this. don’t ask me to elaborate 💀 just enjoy the horny head canon I have for this fic)
★ The first time it happens, you think maybe he’s just having a bad day.
★ Syzoth has always been careful with you—gentle in a way that makes your chest ache, like he’s still learning that he’s allowed to want softly. But today, when Johnny leans against the training room wall and throws you that trademark grin, something shifts.
★ “Hey, looking good out there,” Johnny says, all easy charm and white teeth. “You’ve been working on that footwork, huh? Because—“
★ “They’re busy.”
★ Syzoth’s voice cuts through the space like a blade you didn’t see coming. He’s suddenly there, positioned between you and Johnny with the kind of precision that doesn’t feel accidental. His shoulders are broader than you remember—or maybe it’s just the way he’s holding them, drawn up and back like a warning written in muscle and bone.
★ Johnny blinks. Raises his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, easy there, Reptile. Just making conversation.”
★ But Syzoth doesn’t move. Doesn’t even acknowledge the nickname that usually makes him sigh with tired amusement. There’s something in his posture that reads like a door slamming shut, and you catch the briefest flash—scales, iridescent and sharp along his jawline, there and gone again before you can fully process them.
★ They’re not the usual muted green.
★ They’re bright. Jewel toned. Almost shimmering.
★ “Syzoth?” You touch his arm, and he turns to you immediately. The tension bleeds out of him like someone cut a string, and suddenly he’s just your Syzoth again—soft eyed and slightly sheepish, like he’s not entirely sure how he ended up in this particular spot.
★ “apologies,” he murmurs. To you. Not to Johnny. “I just….you were in the middle of training.”
★ “I was taking a break, actually.”
★ “Oh.” He glances away. A soft orange hue coloring his cheeks—like he was blushing. But you knew he couldn’t technically—not like a human anyways. And you swear you can see something else beneath it. Something that wants to shimmer. “Right. Of course.”
★ Johnny leaves without further jest, and you pretend not to notice the way Syzoth tracks his exit like a predator watching prey slip just out of range.
•••
★ The second time, you’re in the gardens. It’s evening, all purple/gold light and the smell of jasmine heavy enough to taste. You’re reading—or trying to—but mostly you’re stealing glances at Syzoth, who’s been quieter than usual lately. More watchful. He sits close enough that your knees almost touch, and every so often you feel his gaze like a physical thing, warm and weighted.
★ “You’re staring….” You say without looking up from your book.
★ “I’m admiring.”
★ The words come out rougher than either of you expected. When you finally meet his eyes, they’re different—pupils dilated wide and dark, ringed in gold that definitely wasn’t there this morning.
★ “Admiring,” you repeat slowly.
★ “Is that….not allowed?” There’s something almost nervous in the question, hidden beneath layers of careful control. He shifts, and the movement is liquid smooth, inhuman in a way that usually only happens when he’s comfortable. When he forgets to hold himself in human shape.
★ But he’s not fully shifted now. He’s caught somewhere in between—skin flickering with patterns that race across his arms like living art, colors that seem to pulse with his heartbeat. Emerald. Sapphire. Gold like late afternoon sun.
★ You realize you’ve been staring back.
★ “It’s allowed,” you say quietly. Your book is forgotten now, pages fluttering closed. “You’re just….different lately.”
★ “Different bad??”
★ “Different different.” You reach out slowly, telegraphing the movement, and trace one of the patterns on his forearm. His breath hitches. The colors flare brighter, and you feel the texture of scales rising to meet your touch like a flower turning toward light. “These are new.”
★ “They’re not.” He’s watching your fingers like they’re performing some kind of miracle. “They’re just… more.”
★ “More?”
★ But he doesn’t answer. Just catches your hand and presses it flat against his chest, right over his heart. It’s racing—faster than ever, thrumming with a reptilian quickness you’ve learned to recognize. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, you feel warmth. Actual warmth? Or maybe you were just imagining it—maybe it was you that was warm…you watch as the subtle shift of something moves beneath skin, rearranging itself, wanting out.
★ “I should go,” he says abruptly.
★ “Syzoth—“
★ “I don’t want to—“ He stops. Swallows hard. “You make it difficult to think clearly.”
★ He leaves before you can ask what he means. But the garden still smells like jasmine, and your palm still tingles where scales pressed against it, and you sit there in the fading light wondering when admiring started sounding like starving.
•••
★ The third time, you go looking for answers. The archives are quiet this time of night. You’ve been here for hours, scrolling through texts on Zaterran biology, culture, behavioral patterns. Some of it you already knew—Syzoth has shared pieces of his past with you, careful and slow, like learning to trust you with the sharp edges of his history.
★ But this is different.
★ ‘Seasonal behavioral changes’, one text explains, ‘are common among Zaterran males of reproductive age. Heightened territorial instincts. Increased displays of coloration. A strong drive to establish pair bonds and ward off potential rivals.’
★ Oh that was it? Huh.
★ Wait, Huh?
★ You scroll further, cheeks warming as the clinical language gives way to more detailed descriptions. Courtship rituals. The way Zaterrans signal interest—through color, through proximity, through the careful choreography of protection and presentation. It’s not aggression—not really.
★ It’s wanting.
★ Wanting so fierce it rewrites everything else.
★ And Syzoth has been fighting it. Trying to tamp it down, keep it human shaped and manageable because he thinks—what? That it’ll scare you? That you won’t understand?
★ You close the tablet and sit back, mind racing.
★ He’s essentially been courting you. This whole time. And you’ve been watching him struggle against his own instincts, embarrassed and careful, trying so hard not to be too much.
★ The thought shouldn’t make you smile.
★ It absolutely does.
•••
★ The fourth time—you’re ready. You find him in the training hall, alone, moving through forms with a violence that looks like meditation. He’s fully shifted—all scales and sinuous grace, colors muted in the low light. But when you enter, when he catches your scent or hears your footstep or just *knows* you’re there the way he always seems to, everything about him changes.
★ The colors flood back. Brilliant. Breathtaking.
★ “You don’t have to hide it,” you say.
★ He freezes mid-movement. “Hide what?”
★ “This.” You gesture at him—all of him, human and not, beautiful in every form. “Whatever this is that you think is going to scare me off.”
★ “I don’t—
★ “Syzoth.” You step closer. He tracks the movement like it’s the only thing in the world worth watching. “I know about your—your season. The…bonding behaviors. I’m not scared.”
★ Something complicated crosses his face—relief and mortification and a hunger so raw it stops your breath. “You researched.”
★ “I did.”
★ “That’s…” He makes a sound caught between a laugh and a groan. “Of course you did.”
★ “So you can stop pretending you don’t want to hiss at Johnny every time he looks at me.” Another step. You’re close enough now to see the patterns shifting across his scales, complex and mesmerizing. “And you can stop holding yourself so carefully, like you think I’m going to break..”
★ “I don’t think you’ll break.” His voice drops lower, becomes something with teeth in it. “I think I might.”
★ “Then break,” you whisper.
★ For a heartbeat, he just stares at you.
★ Then he moves.
★ closing the distance with that liquid speed that makes your pulse spike. His hands find your waist—careful still, always careful with you—but there’s a tremor in them now. Want held on a fraying leash.
★ “Beloved—you don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he says against your temple. His breath is warm, slightly too quick. “During mati—he stops himself, unable to say the word in front of you, “The season, I…” He stops. Tries again. “It makes me—possessive. Irrational. I want—“
★ “Me,” you finish. “You want me. I know. I want you too.”
★ The sound he makes is almost a whimper.
★ “Say it again.”
★ “I want you, Syzoth” You tip your head back, meeting those gold ringed eyes. “All of you. However you need to be.”
★ The colors across his skin flare so bright it’s almost bioluminescent. And then he’s kissing you—deep and desperate. like he’s been holding back for weeks and the dam just shattered. His mouth is hot, insistent, different in shape and texture, and you gasp against it as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against him.
•••
★ His tongue slips past your lips, long and precise, curling against your own in a way that sends sparks straight down your spine. You moan into his mouth, your hands trailing up and down his rough shoulders, pulling him closer.
★ Syzoth groans, the sound vibrating through his chest as he presses his hips forward. You feel the hard lengths of him against your thigh, both cocks straining through his pants, thick and insistent. The realization hits you like a thrill, your core clenching in anticipation. He’s always been careful, restrained, but now? Now he’s unraveling, and it’s all for you.
★ “Mine,” he murmurs against your lips, nipping at your bottom one with sharp teeth that don’t break skin but promise they could. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he lifts you effortlessly off the training room mat. Your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, and he grinds against you, the dual ridges of his arousal rubbing right where you ache.
★ You break the kiss just enough to whisper, “Take me to bed, Syzoth. Now.” Your voice is breathy, teasing, even as your body trembles with need.
★ He doesn’t hesitate. With a low growl, he carries you out of the training room. His strides long and urgent down the dimly lit corridor of your shared quarters. The door to the bedroom barely registers before he’s kicking it shut behind you, the wood slamming with enough force to rattle the frame. He doesn’t set you down gently—instead, he backs you against the wall, capturing your mouth again in a bruising kiss. His hands are everywhere—tugging at your shirt, shoving it up and over your head, then yanking down your pants with impatient efficiency.
★ “So beautiful,” he rasps, “Cricket….always tempting me.” He dips his head to your neck, licking a hot stripe along your pulse point, his forked tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin. You arch into him, urging him on.
★ Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy—twin cocks bobbing, both curving upward, veined and flushed a deep green, tips already beading with precum. They’re thicker than you remember, or maybe it was just because he was in his true form…nonetheless—they pulsed greedily in tandem—as if sharing the same desperate rhythm. Syzoth’s hands roam your bare skin, calloused palms cupping your chest/breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they’re hard peaks.
★ “I need you,” he says, the words laced with that flirtatious lilt even as his grip tightens, irrational possessiveness bleeding through.
★ “I’m yours,” you reply, nipping at his jaw. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
★ That does it. He scoops you up again, tossing you onto the bed with a playful growl that turns feral. You land on your back, legs splayed, and he follows, crawling over you like a predator claiming his prize. His mouth finds your chest/breast, sucking hard on one nipple while his hand pinches the other, drawing a gasp from your lips. Lower still, his fingers trail down your stomach, dipping between your thighs to find you soaked and ready.
★ “Mmm, so ready,” he murmurs, voice husky with approval. Two fingers push inside your pussy, thick, clawed but careful, curling to stroke that spot that makes your hips buck while his other hand strokes one of his cocks, the slick sound obscene in the quiet room.
★ You writhe under him, chasing the building pressure. “Syzoth...”
★ His fingers thrust faster, scissoring to stretch you, preparing you for what’s to come. When he withdraws, you whine at the loss, but then he’s positioning himself between your legs, one cock nudging at your entrance while the other presses between your thighs still.
★ “Breathe,” he instructs softly, that genuinely loving tone cutting through the heat. He kisses you again, slower this time, as the tip of his first cock breaches your entrance. It’s a stretch, burning sweet, and you cling to his shoulders as he sinks in inch by inch. Halfway there, he pauses, reaching down to guide the second cock, slick with his own precum, he nudges at you, pressing both heads between your thighs insistently, begging ti be swallowed up by your body.
★ You relax as best you can, the flirty little spark in your eyes meeting his rather intense gaze. “Give it to me. Both.”
★ With a shuddering breath, he pushes forward. The dual invasion is overwhelming—you’re filled to the brim, walls clenching around his thick length, while you yield to the second, the sensation of fullness making stars scatter behind your eyelids. He bottoms out with both, hips flush against yours, and stills, letting you adjust. His forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling.
★ “mmmh, bug, you feel ssso good,” he groans, starting to move. Shallow thrusts at first, occasionally switching between the two cocks—one pulling out as the other drives in—building a rhythm that has you moaning his name. The friction is intense, every slide hitting nerves you didn’t know you had, pleasure coiling tight in your belly.
★ Syzoth’s pace quickens, possessive grunts escaping him as he fucks you harder. “Mine,” he repeats, one hand pinning your wrist above your head while the other grips your thigh, spreading you wider. His tail—long and sinuous—wraps around your leg, holding you open for him. The colors on his skin flare brighter, pulsing glows as sweat slicks your bodies.
★ You meet his thrusts, rolling your hips to take him deeper. “Yes... harder—mff—ahhngh—“ Your words spur him on, making him double his efforts (literally).
★ He releases your wrist to brace himself, pounding into you with abandon. Both cocks now pistoning together—stretching and filling you completely, the intensity sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you. You grind against his base with every thrust, pushing you closer to the edge.
★ Finally, your orgasm hits, clenching and pulsing, milking his lengths as you cry out. Syzoth follows seconds later, roaring your name as he spills inside you—hot cum flooding you completely and utterly, marking you from within. He collapses onto you, still buried deep, his body trembling with aftershocks.
★ For a moment, you just hold each other, breaths ragged. You smile, tracing a finger along his jaw. Basking in each other.
•••
★ Later, when you’re curled together in the quiet dark, his tail wrapped loosely around your ankle like a living promise, he speaks into your hair. (Or the crook of your neck :3)
★ “Thank you.”
★ “For what?”
★ “For researching—caring.” You feel his smile against your shoulder. “For not running. For letting me be… this.”
★ You lace your fingers through his, feeling the texture difference where scales meet skin. “This is pretty great, actually.”
Can you please write headcanons/reactions for Kenshi, Johnny, Raiden, Liu Kang, and Bi Han where they are having a friendly spar/ training with their crush and somehow their lips accidentally connect (๑╹ω╹๑ )
Kenshi Takahashi:
-He just losts his sight, so this was bound to happen.
-Kenshi excuses fall from his lips, like a waterfall, but mostly, he is angry at himself for this new disability he doesn’t know how to deal with.
-Of all the ways his first kiss with you could go (because he thought of it multiple times during the evenings), this wasn’t one of them; at his weakest moment.
-Kenshi won't talk about it, brushing off the topic if you try to bring it up. Maybe when Earthrealm is safe, and his mind is clear, the man will finally be able to express his true feelings.
Johnny Cage:
-"Can't stay too long without a taste of these lips, mh honey?"
-Johnny does what is natural for him, joking.
-He teases and jokes about it every time you say it was an incident and meant nothing, being all dramatical and sad at your words.
-The truth of the soft feeling blossoming for you hidden in a corner of his mind, too confused by all the events going on with his life.
-Doesn't mean...that if you misstep and fall on his lips again...he won't kiss you back.
Raiden:
-He stutters, eyes wide as an owl, before hiding under his bamboo hat.
-Raiden excuses himself a million times, bending as much as possible as appropriate it is for a good guy like him.
-What you may not notice is the small smile he tries to bite off, as he notices how you stutter too, and your heartbeat increasing.
-Maybe...maybe he isn’t the only one being way too happy about this incident.
Liu Kang:
-He smiles, and tell you not to worry; it can happens when training.
-Lies, pretty obvious too for trained ears; Liu Kang swears he hears Geras sighs at his words.
-Liu Kang won't overstep your boundaries, but...if he catches that you may have liked this happy incident, probably he'll become as clumsy as when he was just a trainee.
Bi-Han:
-Time freezes and it's not due his magic. Kiss broken, but lips a breath away from each others.
-And then a punch knocks all the air out of your body, your body falling on the ground like a stone.
-Bi-Han looks down on you, disgust evident on his face, before barking "the training isn't over".
-You'll never know, if not much later, that his disgust was born from his embarrassing misstep, rather than from the kiss.
Hello :) if it’s okay please could I request flirty intros or headcanons for MK1 Boys with a crush on the reader who wields the elements (adopted by Madam Bo as a child and grew up with raiden and Kung Lao). Thank you and have a great day 💙
MK1 Boys x Elements wielder! Reader
A/N: Hope you have a great day and night too! Hopes this are okay! i can change something if you need! :))
Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Thomas
Liu Kang
Liu kang: Madam Bo was right about your strength and beauty on battle.
You: *Chuckles* Not only in battle, Lord Liu Kang.
-
Liu kang: Your heart and the elements are one together. Hope there's space for me someday...
You: Lord Liu Kang, i through that was obvious at this point.
-
You: So keeper of time huh? I should be grateful of your work on me.
Liu kang: Believe me, i'm more than happy to be having these conversations together, Y/N.
-
You: Just said i'm one of your favorites, Lord Liu Kang, won't tell Raiden or Lao.
Liu kang: *Smile* And i through i was being subtle about my feelings at this point.
Raiden
Raiden: Madam Bo really shaped such former warrior. Hope we can fight next to each other as always, Y/N
You: It's always a honor fighting beside you, Raiden.
-
Raiden: The way you move elements around is like watching magic floating, Y/N.
You: And with your lighting we could create such masterpiece!
-
You: My childhood was better with you around, Raiden. Thank you.
Raiden: I hope we can still share more moments from now too, Y/N.
-
You: I promise to be more gentle in the next training, Raiden.
Raiden: Such power like yours should be seen, Y/N. Don't hold back.
Kung Lao
Kung Lao: I'm sure i'm Madam Bo's favorite, but you still the beautiful and strong one.
You: Just because you empty her plates doesn't mean you have extra points, Lao.
-
Kung Lao: Care to allow me the next fight, Y/N? The winner gets a kiss.
You: *Chuckle* Oh now you wanna fight serious, don't you?
-
You: You love to lose since little, don't you, Lao?
Kung Lao: Maybe i just like the way you smile in each victory.
-
You: No, i will not try my elements at full in our training, Lao
Kung Lao: Oh c'mon i can take it! Show off for me!
Johnny Cage
Johnny Cage: Oh you gonna LOVE watching Avatar the last airbender with me!
You: *Sigh* At least it's a date, right?
-
Johnny Cage: You're like mother nature's child, Beautiful and deadly. i like it.
You: Well somebody has very good eyes, huh Mr. Cage?
-
You: I'm not doing the air trick like Aang, Johnny.
Johnny Cage: C'mon babe! you're the chosen one for this!
-
You: Madam Bo says you're welcome to visit anytime, Johnny.
Johnny Cage: Getting to see you and such good food? ugh...this is heaven.
Kenshi Takahashi
Kenshi Takahashi: Can i even have a change with such powerful being in front of me?
You: Oh the charmer you are, Takahashi. And yes, yes you can.
-
Kenshi Takahashi: I promised Madam Bo to be the man worthy of your presence.
You: Like you're not all of that already, Kenshi.
-
You: It is painful to miss the colors of my elements, Kenshi?
Kenshi Takahashi: It pains me not appreciating all of you as i wish, Y/N.
-
You: Let my elements guide you back towards me, Kenshi.
Kenshi Takahashi: I will let them embrace me knowing you will be waiting at the end, Utsukushī.
Bi-Han
Bi-Han: Somebody strong like you, grew up around foolish excuse of warriors.
You: Leave Kung Lao and Raiden out of this, Bi-Han.
-
Bi-Han: Power and mind like yours belongs with me on the Lin Kue!
You: You don't know how to say you like somebody, Don't you Bi-Han?
-
You: You control ice, i control everything i can in nature.
Bi-Han: Prove me that my eyes don't deceive me then.
-
You: If we work together, we do it my way now, Bi-Han.
Bi-Han: *Low Chuckle* Didn't expected less from Madam bo's favorite one.
Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang: I see the beauty and kindness, now show me the strength inside of you.
You: My elements will cease your flames, Kuai Liang.
-
Kuai Liang: The Shirai Ryu can be bless with your presence?
You: Hmm i will discuss it with Madam Bo, Kuai Liang. But keep your hopes up.
-
You: I still miss something in my future as one of earthrealm protectors.
Kuai Liang: I hope 'me' in your life can be in that future too.
-
You: It is hot around, or it's the fire wielder in front of me?
Kuai Liang: *Chuckle* Didn't knew being a element wielders came with such flirty talking too.
Tomas
Tomas: There's a lot i can learn from you, Y/N...Mind a private lesson?
You: Oh Tomas, how smooth. You got it.
-
Tomas: Did i least looked badass in the exam?
You: Throwing Madam Bo from that up? You were lucky i was busy fighting your brothers, Tomas.
-
You: Didn't knew Lin Kue clan had such handsome smoke wielding
Tomas: I knew you control elements, but this flirty control wasn't on the list!
-
You: I think i can wield heart beats. Yours is fast around me.
could i perhaps request for literally anything with kung lao and afab reader whos an out world princess like lol maybe readers sindel and jerrods youngest? lmao bro im desperate id read anythingggg
Queen Sindel and King Jerrod had conceived you after a particularly passionate anniversary night, and by the time you were born, Kitana and Mileena had just graduated from their academic careers and started taking over minor royal duties
and so, that left you with the whole (and a little extra) of Sindel and Jerrod's attention, resulting in you being a bit of a brat
every whim you had ever wanted, you had gotten, and although your temper had been soothed with age, it had a tendency of flaring up when you were emotional
especially now, when Kung Lao pins you down so tightly on the bed, thick arms refusing to let your hips grind down onto his face
your hands pull at the strands of his hair, body squirming against the lush silk sheets of your bed, and you whine out of his name, petulant and needy, "Lao, pleeaaaase!"
he glances up at you, eyes hooded over with lust and pleasure, his own hips lazily grinding against the side of your mattress, and he doesn't answer
instead, the flat of his tongue presses firmly against your sensitive clit, swollen with blood after being teased for the better part of the last 30 minutes
you groan, throwing your head back against the sheets as tears start to fall down from the edge of your eyes, "fuck! please, please, Lao! i need it-"
your lover only laughs against your pussy, the vibrations buzzing through your body, and you gasp and writhe at the sensation
"just a little more, wanna know how needy you can get." Kung Lao mumbles it more to himself than to you, his nose grinding against your clit as he fucks his tongue into your pussy again
a pool of your arousal stains your bed and the bottom half of his face, and he grunts as you try and thrust your hips against his face again, chasing your own pleasure
Kung Lao simply presses down on your hips with one arm to still them, using his other hand to slap at the side of your thigh as a warning
you whimper and pout, tugging at his hair to try and get him to fuck you on his tongue properly, but he pulls away, eyebrows furrowed in irritation
the world spins as he flips you over onto your stomach so that you're bent over the mattress, and your hands scrabble at the sheets, brain whirling with the sensation
Kung Lao offers you no reprieve, hand slicing through the air as he slaps at the sensitive flesh of your butt, the sound cracking through the air
a choked groan escapes from your lips, and you bury your face into the sheets as he brings down his hand again and again, pain stinging through your flesh
"you wanna be a brat? fine, i'll show you how i deal with brats." his other hand presses into your lower back to make sure you can't twist away from the punishment, and you sob into the sheets, tears staining the silk
humiliation burns at your face, but your pussy betrays your thoughts as your arousal drops down onto the sheets
Kung Lao pants into the air, and he kicks your legs apart, swiping his calloused fingers through your slickness before wiping it on the back of your thigh
he says nothing, and before you can peek backwards to take a look, his hand slaps against your pussy, the sound wet and messy
you scream into the sheets, face burning with shame as pleasure soars through you along with the pain, and you wheeze into the sheets as his fingers pat against your clit
"i knew it." even without looking back, you can hear the infuriating smirk on his face, and once again, before you can quip back a response, he brings his hand back down onto your dripping pussy, the tips of his fingers catching along your clit
"fuck!" you tremble and shake, unable to do much more as you squirt, and Kung Lao groans at the sight, his ego swelling with the sight of your sheets soaked with your pleasure
he mumbles something underneath his breath as your vision swims in front of you, and your breath hitches as you feel the blunt head of his cock press against your pussy
Kung Lao rubs his hands along your sore butt, sure to leave you with an aching pain for the next couple of days, before he grips onto your hips as he pushes forward
his cock stretches you, still a bit of struggle no matter how much preparation he gives you, and you whine and grip onto the sheets, panting through the pain
"are you okay? do you need a break?" one of his hands pets at your back, voice laced with worry, and you shake your head no
"just-just give me a second. that was-i-fuck-" thoughts melt on your tongue as his cock presses against your sweet spot, and your hips jerk backwards, "just fuck me, Lao."
he laughs, giving your hips a squeeze, "always so demanding."
and then, as ordered, Kung Lao ruts into you ruthlessly, his pelvis slapping against you loud enough that it echoes in the room
his hand releases your hip to dip underneath and rub at your clit in fast and rough circles, and you groan, pussy clenching around him at the sensation
it only spurs him on further as he grunts, and you whimper as you cum on his cock, stars flashing behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut
Kung Lao mutters something, lost in translation, and he fixes his grip on your hips as he chases his own high, desperate for his own orgasm after denying you and himself for so long
his cock twitches in your pussy, and he groans as he fucks his seed into you, uncaring of the few drops that seep out along the edges and onto the bed
he drops down onto you so that his chest presses along your back, kissing at the base of your neck as he lazily thrusts his hips in and out before stopping completely
"well, are you gonna clean me up now, or what?"
Kung Lao laughs, carefully pulling out of you as he walks over to your connected bathroom to grab a hand towel and start a bath, "of course, your highness.”
Was wondering if I may request something for any of the Lin Kuei boys (Tomas, Kuai Liang, Bi-Han) with a reader who's similar to Aerith Gainsborough, personality wise. If you're unfamiliar with Final Fantasy, Aerith is a very sweet and kind/gentle character. How would they be in a relationship with the reader?
Have a wonderful day! Keep up your amazing writing ♡
Sweetheart
A/n: this ask is genius I fear💔. Also I’m so sorry for being gone for so long, my mental health rapidly deteriorated and for really bad. But I’m getting better now!!
Warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluff tho and they’re all probably ooc
Bi Han
Mr grumpy pants over here😒 (I’m kidding I love my man Bi Han)
I feel like he’d look down on someone more soft spoken at first, until you prove yourself. Like he had to see that you aren’t just a sweet face and a nice voice before he even considers talking to you
It does a while to actually get him to admit he’s in love. I fear he’s emotionally stunted💔
Once he admits it to himself (and you, which takes even LONGER) he doesn’t seem to change much at first. But he does change, he just doesn’t want his men to see him soften. Because he won’t soften for them, only you.
Like how his eyes always find you in a crowd, or how his hand never wavers from your lower back in crowds, or how his shoulders relax when you’re around
When it’s just you and him, he’s almost completely different. He’s still gruff and grumpy, but when he lays his head down in your lap while you read, or when you lay beside him and play with his fingers he struggles not to smile.
Let’s you put flower crowns in his hair, watches you tend to your private gardens, he watches you take the first bite of food before he eats, he lets you lean against him, he lets you squish his cheeks and kiss his face
Bi Han isn’t nearly as affectionate as his brothers, but he indulges you no matter what. Smiles when you find and nurture an injured animal back to health, groans when you bring him back flowers but still puts them in a vase on his desk
His hands rest naturally on your hips, gently rubbing the skin underneath your shirts in slow circles
I’m a firm believer that Bi Han is actually very sweet he’s just incapable of acting on most of his emotions properly
Literally just a Grumpy x Sunshine opposites attract slow burn😭😭 I love him💔💔💔💔💔
Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang my glorious king💔💔
In general he’s much better at keeping his cool, and just overall kinder to newer people
He meets you and makes your acquaintance, almost immediately taken by your nature. Smiles when you hand him a flower from your garden, wears the daisy chains you make happily. If it makes you smile he’ll do it.
Doesn’t realize that he’s in love with you until Tomas points it out by asking how he’d feel if someone took you on a date
He melted the floor and burnt through the table….so….
But he’s so quick to ask you on a date, trust. And he’s such a gentleman about it🤞
He takes his training and duties very seriously, but when he’s alone with you he’s never happier.
He’s happy to lay under the shade of the trees in your garden, and will watch you fondly as you walk around your quarters perfectly content.
He’s just so happy to be near you. Like he doesn’t even have to be holding you or talking to you, but if you’re in his general vicinity he’s content.
He’ll watch you read, and silently try to guess the plot with your facial expressions and the sounds you make.
If you give him a gift, big or small, he acts like you just gave him the Mona Lisa. He’s so gentle with them, and is always so thankful . Even if it’s just origami flowers.
Also *VERY* protective. Like one wrong look and he’s ready to fight. Bro just love you sm:/
Tomas
TOMAS MY SON🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Both of you are pretty soft spoken, especially compared to his brothers.
When he meets you, he’s very glad to meet someone who isn’t all about Kombat. Like he’s tell him about the book you’re reading, show him your sketchbook, offer him something you baked!! He’s all for it.
And he falls FAST. He just loves being around you, watching you do things. He’s just sitting there with a dopey grin as you exist.
He’s super affectionate too. Like if you’re next to him, he’s wrapped himself around you. It doesn’t matter who’s around you.
Or how they react to it. Johnny will scoff about how gross you and neither of you react.
He’s often cuddled up to your side reading along with you. During training he’s looking your way to see how you react, when he’s meditating you cannot be in the room tho:/
But that’s only because you capture all his attention whenever you’re in the same room as him.
He loves to lay in the gardens with you, sighing happily while you run your fingers through his hair. Or listening to you explain the difference between crocheting and knitting
Or whatever else you want to do. He doesn’t have much free time, so the little he does is always spent with you. He has to be convinced to hang out with his other friends, and will likely only go if you tell him to.
