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tomassexypecs · 1 month

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Pairing: Bodyguard!Kenshi Takahashi x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: first person POV, no use of (y/n), dirty talk, fingering, mirror sexy time, the reader is absolutely obsessed with him (I mean who among us isn't), pre-blinding

A/N: Guys. Guys…this fic has been such a trek. Originally it was going to be a one shot, then I was like 'oh I have so many ideas for a longer sex scene, so I'll make it two parts', then I completely stalled. I felt like it was unfair to me and the fic to just let it rot away on my computer. So here it is. It is complete but if I'm feeling especially smut inclined, maybe MAYBE I'll write the marathon sex I had been thinking of adding. AO3

Kenshi was a brick wall, unmoving, firm, rigid.

It was infuriating.

All I wanted was his eyes on me. Not in the brief glances I got, but in a way that said he cared. That told me he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I would count how long he would linger on me, where his eyes hovered. Then I would accentuate it. A little extra highlight on my collarbones or especially sparkly earrings to draw attention to the slope of my neck. But he would stay silent, only speaking when spoken to. There were a few touches to my lower back, or fingers brushing my arm, that would ignite me for days. They weren’t adoring caresses. They were always in a way to guide me.

I wanted to claw at him in desperation, in anger. In the four months that he’s been assigned as my closest bodyguard, he had paid me little mind. His head was forever on a swivel. My Father had more enemies than men to fight against. I was his most precious gift, as he always called me. Kenshi served as the last line of defense between me and any would be assassins. I had many guards most days, anywhere from three to ten. But Kenshi was the closest. Frustratingly close. His room was next to mine in any hotel. He sat next to me in any car, plane, or train. Everytime his knee would brush against me, my skin would flare, clit twitching in interest. I would press my ear to the wall when I heard the shower going next door, praying that I would hear my name in his smooth voice.

I was suffocating under the need for him. Sometimes I would sneak out of my house in the dead of night to find myself at some hook-up’s apartment. Even while he’s trying to coax moans from me, they only come if I imagine Kenshi. It’s his tattooed hands curling inside me. It’s his cock pushing into me. It’s his moans filling my ears. But my brain can never smooth over the clumsiness of these men. I knew Kenshi would never fumble at me like this, only doing enough to open me to them, never enough for toe curling pleasure. I would never stay with these men once I had my meager fill. What was the point? They weren’t him. Other nights, I was forced to shove my fingers in my soaked pussy myself. This is when I could moan his name with reckless abandon. If I knew he was next door, I always imagined pounding on his door. He would open, shirtless and only in boxers, rumpled from sleep. Then I would demand, order, him to fuck me. He wouldn’t refuse my direct request.

Then, in the harsh morning light, I would be overcome with hot, burning shame. I felt disgusted at thinking of my employee like that. That it always made me come hardest when I imagined ordering him to fuck me. That he would say yes ma’am and drop to his knees before me. But inevitably, I would find myself in the same position. I thought of him in the same primal, lustful way I knew some people thought of me. But my body recoiled at the idea of showing him. I never wanted to be a predator, using my power to convince, or worse, force him. So I struggled to maintain an aloof air around him to keep a wall between us. Unfortunately, it sometimes came out wrong. At worst it made me seem bratty and spoiled. Which I could be if it benefited me, but it usually resulted in the briefest flash of annoyance on Kenshi’s handsome face.

The business trip my Father brought me along on had been boring. Shanghai was similar in certain ways to my home city of Tokyo. But I loved exploring more than anything. Unfortunately, I saw none of it. I was shepherded from home to grand home, smiling at old gang bosses and fluttering my eyelashes at their sons. If even one of them showed interest, I would have pulled them to the nearest bathroom, language barrier be damned. Words didn’t matter much when it came to fucking. Anything to get rid of this ache in me. Kenshi and I had been stuck together, his body always protectively standing behind me. All I could smell was his cologne, fogging all my senses. I felt like I was going insane. How could just one man have me so devoted with such little effort. I was barely able to pry the barest conversation from him and yet I was so entranced. Talks of merging ties, merging families, did little to wash away the desperation in me. If anything it made it burn hotter. I was running out of time to make Kenshi weak for me.

It was our last night here and I had barely seen the city. I felt like a caged animal, tail flicking in anger at being restrained. So I decided that I would do something about it. My knuckles rapped against Kenshi’s door, my platformed toe tapping on the carpeted floor. Nothing. I raised my fist to bang but the door swung open before I could make contact. He was still in his uniform, maroon suit and black button up. The first few buttons were popped open and his sleeves were rolled back to show off the delicious tattoos inked there. Just that extra bit of skin made my mouth water. “What would you like from me?” So much. Everything. I can’t remember when he started saying this instead of how can I help you. There was something about the phrase that made the back of my brain perk up in question. Maybe he knew how much I craved him?

“I want to go out,” I said simply, gesturing to my short sparkly dress. It was tight and low cut. A fervent recklessness had settled deep in my stomach. The chance I would have a ring on my finger by the end of year was growing. My chance for a touch, a kiss, from the man who consumed me so completely was slipping away. His brown eyes flicked down me. I was seeing things, surely. His gaze was slow as it pulled along my skin, taking in the curve of my calf, the dip of my knee, the swell of my hips. I suck in a sharp breath. The trail burns along my skin, makes my nipples pebble when he takes in the carefully placed line of glitter between my breasts. Then he meets my eyes and my heart stutters. His eyes were blazing with desire. I blinked. That look was gone. Had I just imagined all that? Silence hung heavy between us as I waited for him to say anything.

He didn’t.

“There’s a club twenty minutes away,” I mumbled, feeling dazed, confusion keeping hurt at bay. Kenshi leaned against the door frame, a little sigh escaping those dream worthy lips.

“You want to spend your last night in Shanghai at some club?” I crossed my arms, titling my chin up on defiance.

“I’ll go myself then,” I turned without so much as another glance and stomped down the hall. I reached the wall of elevators but it was Kenshi’s multicolored finger that pressed the down arrow. Only a few moments of silence pass before the elevator dings, metal doors sliding open. “It’s the best you come with. I don’t have my key.” My heels make satisfying clicks on the marble floor as I step into the elevator, jabbing the lobby button. Kenshi huffs but I caught a tiny, fond smile on his lips before he turned his back to me.

The car dropped us a block away as the crowded streets grew too thick for it to pass through. I didn’t mind the walk. The street was bathed in a kaleidoscope of neon. Small food carts with fragrant meat skewers and crunchy scallion pancakes dotted the sidewalks. Curls of cigarette smoke puffed from open bar doors, the men holding them nursing beers. A group of women drew closer, stumbling a bit on their too high heels. My Mandarin wasn’t refined enough to keep up with their rapid conversation but I picked up on tattoos and handsome. They giggled, shooting glances at Kenshi behind me, the alcohol making them bold. I bared my teeth and sped past them.

It wasn’t the first time I had heard someone swoon over him. In fact, it was a near constant occurrence. Women would fall in his lap or men would shyly pass him a drink, intentionally brushing their hands against his. I tried to let it not affect me in the beginning. He was his own man and he could sleep with whoever he wanted. But that reasonable understanding gave way to burning possessiveness soon enough. My jaw would flex, anger flaring suddenly. He did nothing to invite others to approach him and when they did, he would politely rebuff them. I knew I had no claim over him, over his body or his heart. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t selfishly clinging onto them.

I heard, felt, the club before I even saw the last man in line. The bass of energetic house music was rumbling through the concrete walls of the building. We rounded the corner and saw the line wrapped all the way around the building. But neither me nor Kenshi paused to wait, like good club goers. We went immediately to the bouncers at the entrance. The man on the right held up a thickly muscled arm. “No VIP, no entrance. In line.” His Japanese was clipped but understandable. He had to shout to be heard over the music seeping out from the open door.

“I’m not a fan of waiting,” I said in Mandarin. I knew it would put him on the backfoot. I glanced over at Kenshi who was already tugging a thick slab of yuan from inside his jacket pocket. The bouncers’ eyes widened as Kenshi deliberately thumbed through the notes. We both knew all of it was going to the men anyways, no need to count, but the show of excessive wealth was as important as actually having it. But all I could see was the way Kenshi’s inked fingers easily delved between the money, how nimble they were. The simple act of counting shouldn’t have had my panties this damp. I had to look away, catching the eye of the bouncer to the left. He glanced away, his cheeks pink. I gave him an appraising once over. He wasn’t particularly handsome but he looked strong enough to hold me down. If everything fell apart tonight, he would do. Kenshi split the notes in half, handing the equal chunks to each man. They smiled, unclipping the velvet rope they guarded and bid us in. I made sure to wink and wave at the bouncer I caught staring.

The music was thunderous, rumbling into my very bones. I could hear a mixture of languages, their sounds only adding to the cacophony. Women in dresses like mine, wisps of glittery fabric, weaved between clumps of men. My heart leapt in excitement when I saw that the dance floor was packed. I wouldn’t have to be dancing alone tonight. The swaying purple and blue lights caught on my sparkly dress, sending bright stars across the floor. Small leather booths were tucked into the walls. Very few were filled, most were couples that used the relative darkness to their advantage. “I want a drink,” I called, before snaking my way through the crowd, trying to get to the silver bar.

With a good amount of shoving, I was able to finally reach it. A bartender appeared, a smile on her pretty face. I opened my mouth to respond but stalled when I felt Kenshi’s chest press against mine, his hands planting on the metal bar top, caging me against him. His breath fanned across my hair, dusting down my neck. He’d never been so forward before. I let out an unexpected whine that was hopefully drowned out by the thudding music. The bartender was looking between me and Kenshi, a look of concern on her face. “Don’t worry about him,” I shouted, giving her a nervous smile. I wanted to assure her that my look of shock had nothing to do with Kenshi being creepy. I gave my drink order and she left to make it, constantly glancing back at him looming over me. “You’re so close,” I said, peeking over my shoulder at him.

He…wasn’t looking at me. Instead his eyes were scanning the bar, trying to find anyone suspicious. My stomach dropped and embarrassment filled me. Of course he wasn’t looking at me. That wasn’t why he was paid. This new closeness was just a symptom of the climate we were in. If he were to hover behind me, he would be buffeted around in the moving crowd. A glass was slid in front of me and I moodily plucked the cherry from it, snapping the fruit off its stem with my teeth. The sweetness, then the burn of alcohol once I downed my cocktail did little to dull my sense of shame. A different bartender passed by, asking if I wanted another. I nodded.

The song changed, a lighter pop song. I absently tapped my foot along to the beat as I tried to ignore Kenshi against me. A new cocktail was put in front of me and I sipped at it. The new drink was made with a much heavier hand than before. The liquor burned my throat and made my chest heat. I still swallowed all of it in a few big sips. That restless need deep in me to confess to Kenshi hadn’t disappeared. I would need something strong to let me be that vulnerable. I placed the new cherry in my mouth, chewing without tasting much. Kenshi’s breath tickled my ear as he leaned toward it.

“Just let those two settle before you drink anything more,” he hummed. My eyes squeezed shut as I battled against all the emotions raging in me. I wanted to snap at him, remind him that he had no right to tell me what to do. But I also wanted to collapse into his arms and beg him to understand my feelings, unload everything I have felt onto him. Instead I spun in my makeshift enclosure to face him. Kenshi didn’t flinch when our noses brushed against each other. My eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to dance.” It looked like Kenshi would keep me pinned there for a moment. His eyes were on me but I couldn’t read the emotion in the flashing dark. But I felt it. It was something heavy and my skin rippled in goosebumps at the feeling. The moment hung, thick with tension that he had never allowed before. Then he nodded and moved his arms away, standing straight. When I blinked dumbly at him, he gestured with a broad hand to the pulsing dance floor. Once again, rejection bit at my skin and I pushed past him and practically dove in the thick crowd of people.

All my senses became numb as I began to dance. The lights were too bright so I let my eyes fall closed. The music overwhelmed my ears and I let it, reveling in the strange almost silence it brought, my thoughts completely drowned out. My nose was invaded by the smell of hundreds of different perfumes and colognes, the tangy scent of alcohol, and the sharp undertone of sweat, washed over me. It was easy to fall in the rhythm of those around me. Everyone’s bodies moved as one, like a wave. Men turned to allow women to press against them. Women giggled and threw their heads back. Rouge hands grabbed at exposed skin and hips. Maybe the cocktails were finally hitting me because I just giggled when the man I was flushed against laid his hands on my thighs. I could feel him getting hard against me. It felt like some nasty victory against Kenshi. I didn’t know where he had planted himself, I did not care. But if this man, completely random, found me so alluring, clearly it was Kenshi’s problem he didn’t as well.

The song changed and I gave my dance partner a sly smile before moving onto the next one. Several songs passed like this, letting random people touch me, press brave kisses on my neck. Then I stumbled upon a group of women. They immediately drew me in, talking excitedly in very rapid Mandarin. I let them know I only spoke a little but they all flapped their hands wildly, waving any concerns away. One of them, a particularly tall bleach blonde, said she could speak Japanese. With the pesky issue out of the way, I was invited to dance with them. They were clearly several drinks deep and mine were settling in. We all traded off with each other, allowing the other woman to shamelessly grind against us, laughing the entire time. I was starting to feel light, all of my worries fading. The tall blonde offered me some of her drink which I gladly took. She winked at me in a very not lighthearted way when I handed the glass back to her. I could feel a blush rush up my already hot cheeks. She leaned close, gloss-covered lips nearly sticking to the shell of my ear. “That guy has been staring at you this whole time. Do you want me to get the bouncer?”

My hazy head felt a rush of fear. Was I being stalked? Then I realized. Kenshi had somehow managed to fall behind in my mind. I followed her gaze and found him, standing with his arms crossed, eyes squarely on me. I chuckled, “I’ll be back!” I disentangled myself from the women around me, stumbling a bit as a man knocked into me. I was able to squeeze out of the throng of bodies and walked over to Kenshi. I could see him tracking my progress but he didn’t move. “My new friend says you look dangerous,” I say, almost scolding, once I plant myself in front of him. A dumb, tipsy smile was spread across my warm face. Kenshi raised a perfect eyebrow.

“I am dangerous, that’s why I’m paid.” I scoff.

“You’re not dangerous to me!” Kenshi cocked his head to the side. He was surely dangerous for me. I turned into nothing but a horny desperate mess around him. But that wasn’t what I was talking about. “Come on,” I say, tugging on the lapels of his jacket, “let’s dance!” If I wasn’t feeling so light and carefree, I would realize that I was starting to walk a dangerous line.

“I’m not dancing,” he says simply. I pout unabashedly, looking up at him through my mascara covered lashes.

“But you can’t protect me from all the way over here! What if an assassin stabs me on the dance floor? You might not even see it happen.” He glared and I glared back playfully. Then he sighed, unlatching my hands from his jacket, his rough fingers scratching against the sensitive skin of my inner wrist. “Come on,” I shout, dragging him to the dance floor. People part for him instantly, either due to his height or the air of power emanating from him. He plants himself in the middle of the crowd and waits for me to make the next move.

So I close my eyes again, letting music thrum through me. My arms float up, hips swaying, head thrown back. I allow a small space between me and Kenshi, but soon I miss the press of someone against me. I shuffle my feet so my back molds against his chest. I can feel him tense, his hands diving into his pockets. A song passes like this before I turn, breasts squished against him, eyelashes fluttering. “Kenshi, relax. Touch me like you want me. You only have to pretend for a bit. Just please.” He shifts, eyes darting between mine. Then he nods. I turn, cupping my hand around the back of his neck, head tossed back against his chest.

The new song is heavy, bass rumbling, my heart pounding with the intense beat. Kenshi’s hands go to my waist, tentative at first, then his fingers dig into my hips. My shocked gasp is lost in the song. His touch is possessive. He guides me against him and I become liquid in his strong grip. He doesn’t grind desperately against me like some of my previous partners. Instead, he sways our hips together, perhaps a bit slow for the current song. My breath is already ragged. First from an hour of dancing, but now, just his touch is making my body shudder.

The booze makes me brave and I ease his hand on my hip lower, to the hem of my dress. There’s a moment where it feels like he might pull away. He stills behind me, hand hovering. But he plants it on my skin, much higher up my skirt than I had positioned him, but still not close enough. I feel his breath flutter over my ear as he leans down. “Desperate?” His cheek rests against my sweaty temple.

“Only for you,” I gasp back. What was the point in lying? The truth is what will get me what I crave. I turn my head, our lips brush, for just a moment. It’s too dark to see the emotion in his eyes but I’m too impatient to wait for him to move. My face draws closer to his and to my relief, he doesn’t recoil away. Just a little more-

Ice cold liquid splashes against my chest. “I’m sorry!!” If looks could kill, the man in front of me would have died a million deaths. The moment I had wanted above all else was gone. Kenshi had stepped back and my body felt cold without him. I wanted to scream, beg him to touch me again. I stomped away, being maybe a little too mean in my shoving to get dancers out of my way. My aching feet drag me toward the back of the club, finding a row of bathroom doors. I try a few before I find an empty one. As I turn, my eyes connect with Kenshi’s. His mouth opens like he intends to say something but the door snapping shut cuts his words off.

Near silence falls in the open bathroom, the music muffled. My eyes can’t tear themselves away from where Kenshi had been. He looked…confused? Worried? Sad? That careful, blank mask had cracked for a moment, for only my eyes. Emotions, confusing as they were, so plain on that face for the first time since I met him.

And I slammed the door on him.

I sigh, eyes squeezing shut until stars pop behind the lids, before opening them again. The bland gray door was still there, right where I had put it. My heels clicking against the stone floor echo off the walls as I go to the sink. I grab fistfuls of paper towels, wiping at my drink soaked skin. It had become sticky so I was forced to go over again with damp towels. I can feel beads of liquid dripping down my shoulders. I try to catch them but fail. I huff, annoyed gaze catching itself in the large mirror. I had been careful to avoid it, scared that I would see some defeated, broken woman. But all I see is cracked foundation around my mouth from laughing and smudged mascara from sweat.

The bathroom door creaks open and I poke my head out. Kenshi stands sentinel, scanning the dance floor, arms folded. “Can you help me? That idiot got some drink on my back.” Kenshi gives a curt nod, following me into the cramped space. I take my place in front of the sink, drumming my finger anxiously against the faux marble. All that wild assurance of Kenshi’s desire for me is gone. It died once the harsh LED light of the bathroom hit it.

Kenshi’s rough fingertips graze the nape of my neck as he clasps the back of my dress, the zipper gliding open. With the low cut of my dress, a bra would be completely impractical, so my back was bare to him. His inked fingers reach for a paper towel, wetting it before beginning to pat at the liquor. I can only stare at the sink. The idea of our eyes locking was too much. The wet towel was dropped in the nearby trash can before he used a fresh one to dry me. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” His voice is low and soft as he works the zip back closed.

“I don’t know.” Part of me wanted to stay, drown my embarrassment in booze and that bouncer out front. Sinking into the plush bed at the hotel also sounds appealing. But once we leave this bathroom, any tension between us will evaporate. I have to do something now or risk losing my opportunity forever. I turn to face him. Our bodies are close enough that every breath I take pushes my breasts into his chest. God he’s so handsome. Up close, I could see faint white scars along his square jaw, a small dent on his right cheek bone. His hands go into his pockets as he allows me to drink in his face.

Kenshi makes the faintest noise of surprise when my lips press to his. The tipsy part of me is begging to give him every ounce of my kisses I can but I hold myself back. His lips are so soft against mine. But they don’t move with me. Instead they stay still. My eyebrows cinch together over my closed eyes. I linger, stupidly hoping that he would reciprocate the kiss. A single touch of those long fingers on me would have reduced me to a puddle. The tears collect behind my lids before I drag my face from his. The silence is deafening. I can feel Kenshi’s focus on me but I can’t bare to see his face. It was a clear rejection, among a series of others from tonight, and it still stings.

“You’ve been drinking, you aren’t thinking straight.” I bite my lip at his understanding tone, it’s near pity.

“Don’t,” I snap, eyes flying open. Kenshi looks startled at my sudden change in attitude. “We both know that this isn’t new. I know I’m not subtle with my desire for you. If you can’t see that, I need a new guard. My Father is clearly wasting his money on you.” The corner of his lips turn down in a frown. That was perhaps a bit too far and harsh, but my frustration is bubbling up faster than I can quell it. “I can’t do this anymore. You have two choices now. You can leave, I won’t be angry. If you walk away, I’ll call my Father in the morning and request a new guard. But if you stay, kiss me, fuck me, make me go to my knees for you. Do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything you give me. Pick.”

Kenshi’s eyes had widened as I ranted. My chin jutted out in defiance under his scrutiny. It wasn’t romantic or eloquent, but it was the truth. This burning need for him couldn’t go on anymore. I made my wants clear. It was his choice now. If he left, I knew I would cry. It would hurt like when my pet fish died at age ten, like something was pulled away from my heart. Perhaps in all my craving, real feelings had grown, sprouting in secret, shadowed by desire.

Kenshi considers me and I instantly flush under him. There’s something distinctly unprofessional in the way he regards me. It’s that same hungry stare from his hotel door. “If I tell you what to do, will you listen?” My stomach swoops at the question and I hurriedly nod. “Then turn around.” I do, nearly stumbling in my rush, heels clicking loudly. My eyes go to him immediately only to find him staring back. His head is perfectly framed above mine. “Why are you finally admitting this?” My mouth opens to answer, but my voice dies in my throat as his calloused fingers trace up my arms. They start with tender skin on the back of my hands, then take long, languid paths up my forearms. Every touch makes my body tingle like his fingers are electrified. He gives both my elbows a squeeze as he passes them. “Tell me.”

“Because I know I’m going to be married soon. That I’ll be shipped here, marrying a man I probably won’t love, expected to pump out sons every two years.” My shudder has nothing to do with his touch. “And I just…” I break eye contact, gaze downcast. It feels too personal to say out loud. But I promised him I would obey him. “I like you too much to not say anything.” Kenshi hums, his body pressing closer.

“In what way do you like me? If you tell me, I’ll tell you how I like you.” Shock ripples through me as I gape at his reflection. His face is mostly impassive, but there’s a gleam in his eye I haven’t seen before. His digits slide under the straps of my dress, outlining my collar bones. Once again I find my mouth trying to form words, but my throat refuses to make sound. I can’t say this. Not out loud. “Hey,” his voice is soft as he leans close, breath ghosting down my neck. “You said you would do what I asked.”

“I want you so bad that I,” my face must be a magnificent shade of red right now. “I fantasize about you. All the time.” Once I say it, the dam opens. “I go out at night and imagine I’m having sex with you. When we travel, I have to stop myself from going to your room and making you fuck me. On trains or planes, I want to drag you to the bathroom and jerk you off till you beg me to stop.” Kenshi hums, body curling close around me. That’s when I feel it. It’s a boner hard and big enough to make my eyes pop wide. Heat blooms between my legs so quickly that my knees nearly give out. “Your turn,” I mumble. He chuckles, low and deep in my ear. The raspy sound makes my thighs clench, nipples hardening.

“If you were to ever ask, I would have done anything you ordered of me. If you knocked, I would fuck you until my lungs gave out. I would let you jerk me off in those small plane bathrooms even when I have nothing left to paint over that pretty face.” Those sword worn hands go to my plunging neckline and pop each of my breasts out with care, caressing them like they are something delicate. I bite back a few moans as his fingers pinch and roll the tight buds. “Hm, these look so pretty,” he muses almost to himself. His skin, covered in dark green ink, is in stark contrast to my unblemished chest. “Even now, you could demand me to lay on this floor so you could sit on my face and I would let you.” I can feel my panties become sticky. “Why haven’t you done anything?” He tweaks my nipples and my hips jerk against him at the feeling.

“I would feel too predatory, like some creepy old man.” My words are breathless, back arching to expose more of my chest to him. His head ducks, lips grazing at my thundering pulse point, not quite kisses, but enough to make me tremble. “And you never gave me any hints you wanted this.” I try to sound biting but only manage a pitiful gasp as his hands descend lower. They skim over my thighs, avoiding the hem of my dress. Anticipation is rushing through me, eyes glued to Kenshi’s hands in the mirror.

“How could I? You are your Father’s precious gift.” I can’t stop the annoyance from flashing on my face. That nickname will haunt me till my grave. “I don’t think he would want the help pumping his daughter full of cum every chance he gets.” Finally, he begins to press wet kisses along the column of my throat. “Imagine we get caught,” he murmurs. “How would you explain my dick down your throat? Princesses like you shouldn’t act like whore for men like me.”

“Oh god,” I whimper. It feels like my skin is melting with every filthy word. His deliciously rough hands drift to the side of my thighs as he works the end of my dress over my hips, revealing the pink lacy panties there. Kenshi props his chin on my shoulder and I can feel his focus practically burning me in the mirror. My head falls back on his shoulder, a blush rushing across my exposed chest and throat. “Kenshi,” I’m begging now. I think even one touch will send me over the edge. One of his feet nudges my ankles and I spread my legs without question.

“Look at yourself.” His fingers pinch my chin, forcing me to look at my own reflection. “Is a few kisses all I need to do to get you so turned on?” I look wild, pink chest heaving, lips parted on shallow pants. “Did all those other people get you like this? The ones you imagined were me.”

“No, only you make me this crazy.” The smile he flashes me nearly brings me to my knees. The dull bathroom lightning catches perfectly on the points of his canines. For a moment, all I can think about is how those teeth would feel against my clit. “Fuck,” I breathe and it only makes his smile grow. “Stop toying with me,” and I press my ass against the rock hard monster in his pants. “Just fuck me, please.” He gives a thoughtful hum.

Then shakes his head.

There’s a terrible moment where my heart clenches. I expect him to walk away and leave me. But that fear eases when his left hand bunches my dress in a fist, his right delving between my slick thighs, middle finger teasing my clit. My wanton moan is thankfully covered by the thudding base outside. “You’re already so wet for me,” Kenshi purrs in my ear, littering the space behind my ear with feather light kisses. He moves in quick, sure movements that have me quivering in his arms in mere moments. The lace scrapes against my sensitive skin and I grind down on the digit. “Be good and bend over,” his hand draws back and I whine at its absence.

“Kenshi I don’t-“ my voice is slurred. I go to turn to him, order him to stop teasing me. But before I can, his hand splays between my shoulder blades, guiding me flat against the cool counter. I allow him, elbows crossed in front of me so I can still see him in the mirror. The hand holding my dress flips the material over my hips and exposes my ass to him. Kenshi’s agile fingers hook into the band of my too expensive panties, easing it down my legs, until it’s dangling around my ankles. He takes a step back, admiring.

“You look so pretty like this,” he mumbles, thick fingers trailing over my ass. He suddenly takes fistfuls of the flesh, spreading me open more to him. The roughness forces a gasp from me. “Fuck,” he groans, hands dragging down my legs, nearly ticklish with how sensative I was. “You’re dripping.” As if to prove his point, he runs a finger over a river of slick on my inner thighs. I feel tight, like a string about to snap if he doesn’t touch me right now. “I won’t fuck you, not yet at least.”

“Why!?” I sound pathetic, voice frail and a gasp. That cocky smirk flashes across his face again as he catches me in the mirror. I hope I’m too wet for him to notice just how much that face is working on me. His hands go to his maroon suit jacket, inching it down his broad shoulders. He definitely knows how much this is affecting me. He does everything he can to make the simple act as sensual as he can, chest puffing out, forearms flexing under his tight black button up. His first two fingers make a curling motion, signaling me to stand up. All I can see is how thick those two fingers together look. I follow his silent order though, and the folded jacket is put under me so my elbows have a comfortable place to rest. “Thank you,” I mumble. When I go back to bending forward without prompting, he makes an approving noise.

Kenshi’s fingers go to the buttons along his cuff, slowly rolling back the arms of his shirt. My eyes are glued to his hands, nearly drooling as more and more of his veins are revealed. More of the tattoos I know he has. More of him. It has no right being so goddamn erotic. “I’m not going to fuck you now because,” he says, hands back on my hips, “when I get my dick in this pretty pussy, I’m going to fuck you until I can’t get hard anymore. Or until you’re passed out under me. Whichever happens first.” I swallow. His right hand skates down my skin, fingers carding through my folds. The rough pads of his fingers make me tremble, back arching. His middle digit peaks up, teasing at my clit, finally. Once again, he moves in tight circles, pulling moans from me with every flick. I can hear how slick I am. But the lewd sounds only spur Kenshi on. My toes curl in my shoes and I try desperately to push against him, something more. Heat is rushing through my body and I know I’m close. As if sensing it, his speed picks up.

“Kenshi!” I cry, my whole body shaking as the orgasm rushes through me. My pussy clenches, hard, around nothing. But he keeps going, drawing out my pleasure till his fingers are leaving behind burning bites on my tender clit. I whine, trying to wiggle my hips away from him. He tsks like an unhappy teacher and tightens the hand on my hip. Just as I’m about to beg him to stop, he does, sinking the finger into my trembling hole. We groan in unison, my eyes falling shut as my head drops forward. His finger pumps into me slowly, curling and arching, as if to discover something. I push against him, overstimulation all but forgotten. “More.”

Even if I can’t see him, I know he’s smiling, as he slips a second digit in. My breath comes to me in weak little moans as he continues the maddening exploration in me. He strokes against every stretch of muscle he can reach, which is seemingly everything. My thighs are trembling now. That hot pool at the bottom of my stomach is forming again. “You're squeezing me so much, feel good?” I nod my head, words having escaped me. The hand at my hip disappears and weaves into my hair, giving it a firm tug. “Keep those pretty eyes open then, watch yourself fall apart.” I lift my heavy head, blurry eyes opening. The apples of my cheeks are a bright pink, chapped lips open on my pants. Then I glanced at him. His gaze practically burns through me with its intensity. He drinks in my body like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see. “Is this the attention you wanted?” His fingers speed up, finding that spongy spot over and over again.

“Kenshi I-“ I whimper, desperate to keep my eyelids open, to watch myself like he asked. But it’s so fucking hard when those fingers are stroking inside me in just the way I want, the way I need. I can’t get anything else out before the heat in my stomach finally explodes. My eyes roll back, mouth slack. He doesn’t stop, only goes faster, like a dog who finally pounces on its prey after playing with it too long. There’s something he’s doing, pushing just the right area, that has me keening. Tears bubble at the corners of my eyes before streaking down my cheeks. The euphoria is never ending as he continues to work me through the orgasm, not allowing it to die off in the first place. His thumb presses against my clit and his free hand leaves my sweaty hair to delve under me to tweak at my nipple. The sensation has me slapping a hand over my mouth to stop a wail. Then he slips a third finger in me. I’m a sobbing, mewling mess, babbling nonsense, strings of his name and so good over and over again.

It’s all so much. The tail end of my second orgasm disappears just in time for my third. It hits me like a train and my legs become liquid under me. My knees knock against the cabinet under the counter. I can’t hear anything beyond the rushing in my ears, just a faint voice. Then Kenshi slows, then stops, and removes himself completely from me. I lay, half melting off the counter, sweaty forehead pressed to the faux marble. A handful of heartbeats pass before I feel a warm expanse of fabric press against my back. There’s a gentle voice that says my name. His breath catches the sweaty hair by my ear, tickling my skin. “You okay?” I give a weak grunt. Kenshi chuckles in response, leaving an affectionate kiss on my cheek, before pulling away.

I hear rustling behind me, then his voice, hard and detached, rumbles out. “Yeah, we need you to come pick us up.” My heavy eyes open, finding his phone wedged between his shoulder and cheek in the mirror’s reflection. The driver from before was undoubtedly talking on the other end. Those agile, thoroughly slick coated, fingers slip between his full lips while he listens, tongue flashing as he licks them clean. I stifle a moan at the sight. He doesn’t say goodbye, just taps to end the call, the phone slipping back into his trouser pocket. “We only have a few minutes.” He draws closer and turns on the tap, dampening a paper towel. I watch as his mirrored self dips low as he kneels behind me. The towel is lukewarm and eases the lingering intensity in me. He takes his time cleaning the crease between my thigh and my overly spent pussy. Then he moves to my other leg. A sleepy quiet passes while Kenshi finishes wiping me down. His teeth briefly sink into my ass, just hard enough for me to yelp, before his tongue laps away the sting. “Time to get up so we can go to the hotel.” My eye flick to his and found a glint of anticipation that was undoubtedly reflected in my own.

Reblogs are always appreciated <3

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tomassexypecs · 1 month

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tomassexypecs · 1 month

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i came in my pants

GUYS IT'S ME AGAIN.

I was watching MK's story mode again and... HE GRUNTED? HE--- I GO----

I swear I went back twenty times to hear this.

"Lorenzo but he's almost dying-" I KNOW BUT HE'S GRUNTING HEAR ME OUT---?!!!

MY HONEST REACTION #002

He must grunt during sex when it's too wild, especially when you act like a brat... I'M FREAKING OUT----

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tomassexypecs · 1 month

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blurb

mdni, afab reader, bihanxreader

bihan would cover your mouth with his large hand as he has you in doggy style , silencing you from making any noise as he thrust his thick hard cock into your tight cunt. he would goan and curse under his breath as he feels your warm tight walls.

“fuck, you feel so good” he praises. he would degrade you as he fills your hole with all his cock, not caring if you feel overstimulated or it hurts. he’ll see the tears in your eyes when he throws you on your back.

he would stop and ask you repeatedly “whats wrong my love?” with so much worry. if you want him to continue he would do exactly that. as he fucks you so good he rubs your clit knowing it will make you cum faster and harder.

you and him both feel the same pressure of pleasure in your lower stomach. “fuck, Y/N” he kisses you “i’m close baby”. you cum first and bihan next. he will thrust himself deep into your pussy as he cums, not letting a singe drop of his seed come out of you.

he would kiss you and your neck as he let his cock soften in you, saying sweet nothings to you. “you did so well”, “you’re so beautiful my love”. he would finally pull out of you and watch his cum seep out your creamy hole. he chuckles.

later then he will get off the bed and wipe himself up, then you next. he asks to take a shower. you say yes. you both go into the shower and wash each other’s body. when you get out the shower, you to lay in bed talking. when you start to get sleepy he would pull you close and kiss you as you fall asleep.

#mortal kombat #new writers on tumblr #lovers #video games #female reader #i need to hug him #mk1 2023 #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #big tiddy committee #bi han x you #bi han #daddy’s babygirl

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

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colors ; lin kuei trio

you guys are not going to like me after this one

cw ; angst, hurt&no comfort, character death, unrequited love, this is a song fic (personally i’m not the biggest fan but damn does this work so well with these three), might be a little ooc, i would like to sincerely apologize to tomas enjoyers, NOT PROOFREAD!!!

bi han

“ You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece ”

you knew him from the start, you were there when his father presented him the title of the future grandmaster as he was the firstborn of the family, you were there when he screamed and yelled how it’s not fair that his brothers don’t have to endure the same training as him.

you were there when his mother, the only figure in his life he could consider a parental one, died and you were there when he finally got granted the title of the grandmaster of lin kuei.

you were always there, no matter his failures, small mistakes and fits of rage as something didn’t go the way he wanted. no matter how ragged he seemed to be you saw the same little boy that strived to make everyone proud, strived for perfection.

“ And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink ”

who would’ve thought that the same boy you so admired for his commitment, for his determination would be the cause of your downfall. of course you loved him, how could you not? he tore through your thoughts like spilled ink through paper.

day and night, dawn and noon, sunrise and sunset it was about showing your worth to him. and of course it didn’t matter. he was so oblivious, so engrossed in his goals and ideas that he didn’t even consider spending his time on foolish matters like love.

he believed a person in love is a fool, an idiot, a naive moron that believed anything the loved one said. and he was right.

“ Everything is blue; his pills, his hands, his jeans ”

after the betrayal you tried so hard to rid yourself of the color of his vest. the blueness spilling everywhere from your walls, your clothes, the sky outside your window during exhausting days and sleepless nights. it was like a ghost was following you, eyes playing tricks and your brain showing the so dreaded color in the corner of your eye.

so when he actually arrived at the doors of shirai ryu you didn’t believe it. it was like a fever dream, they way his eyes gazed at you with pure hatred and resentment. you stared hoping to see something deep in there, like a confession, that he wished he didn’t have to do it, that he did it because he cared about you, that he loved you.

but there was nothing there, just the endless pit of rage.

“ And now I'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams ”

you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance, not because you were not a warrior, you were, a great one even but even Achilles had a weak spot right? the only difference was that while Achilles had his heel you were standing face to face with your weakness. and he knew how to use this advantage.

“ you were supposed to be on my side. what a disappointment you are. ”

the hunting blue about to drown you, his clothes, the dark sky, the ice forming around his forearms, the color that now represents the clan which brought so much destruction to your home, the same color you once could even said you loved to death, just because it belonged to him.

“ And it's blue… ”

he stood above you with the bloody ice spear in his hands, directed perfectly at your beating heart. the heart that beat of him, at the pace he played. and of course he struck right where he wanted. he just couldn’t be more perfect, right?

tomas

he thought he lost everything he could, two families torn apart and he couldn’t comprehend what sins he must’ve committed to deserve such thing. but even with that he never lost hope, he didn’t care how childish it sounded. he still had kuai liang, he still had you.

“ Everything is grey “

you know what they say right? how everything has its end? good or bad, things will always end one way or another. and tomas knew, but oh how he wished things never ended. not now that you finally setteled in together at the shirai ryu he thought things will finally go the right way for him.

not everything was picture perfect, he still felt the immense guilt for “separating” the brothers and dragging you just by affiliation into this mess. sleepless nights spent with silent tears while you slept peacefully. harsh trainings and to top it off clumsiness from lack of sleep.

bruises and cuts becoming a normalcy for him. and so did become this far away, clouded look on his face.

“ His hair, his smoke, his dreams ”

you tried everything to get him out of that state, but if there’s one thing he shares with both bi han and kuai liang it’s the god damn stubbornness. you loved each other dearly, theres no denying that but the wall he created between you was becoming too much. for both sides.

the last time you confronted him about all the nights you spent alone or the times he ignored you during the day it ended in a screaming match. even if for him it was like a nightmare come true he couldn’t help but think he deserved you walking out on him with a loud and heart-wrenching scream.

“ i’m tired tomas, i cannot take this anymore! ”

oh how he wished it had never come to this.

“ And now he's so devoid of color ”

and now as he holds your body close to his chest, both your faces covered in blood, he understood that if there was someone to be deserving or undeserving of something, it’s you. you deserved better than him, better than what he had put you through, and you certainly didn’t deserve for your life to end this way.

“ i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. ”

he didn’t know what hurt more. the sight of your face slowly losing color, eyes slowly losing life, and the hold on his cheek becoming less and less firm or the fact that after all this, you still forgave him. it felt like someone had just shot him in the face, right between his eyes…

…and the scar stayed, for a long time. just like the shades of gray in his eyes and heart after losing the only source of color in his life.

“ He don't know what it means ”

the hope was all lost now.

kuai liang

“ You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue ”

‘childhood sweethearts’ was what a lot of people described you two as. friends from day one, that’s what comes with being a child of the grandmasters closest friend. you did everything together, all of your firsts were with the other one present.

“ But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky ”

a sweet reality, truly. your best friend being your actually first ever friend, being your first handhold, your first kiss, even your first time. but isn’t it somewhat normal? teenagers exploring their possibilities, their sexuality, their bodies. it all seems harmless until feelings come in the way. they started after the kiss and only got worse.

it would be normal to consider that he liked you too, right? so when he asked you to meet up in your secret spot because he had something important to tell you? oh boy you were losing your absolute mind.

choosing your best clothes, doing your hair, you obviously wanted to be your best in that moment. waiting in the spot was becoming an agonizing activity, you came over half an hour earlier then you were supposed to because of excitement.

“ And you decided purple just wasn't for you ”

it was supposed to be the best day ever for you until you saw him leading a girl you recognized. harumi, of course you knew who she was. you were always jealous of her, her stupid perfect face, her stupidly beautiful hair, her stupid smile. and yet here she was, standing in a place you wanted so badly to occupy.

and kuai liang stood proudly in front of you, a smile on his face, his chin held high in pride. he looked happy, maybe even happier then he ever been. happier than he has ever been when with you.

“ i wanted you to be the first one to know, harumi is my girlfriend ”

because best friends since childhood always share their firsts. and it’s so sweet.

feeling a bit silly tbh :3

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

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the little things

Pairing/s: Bi Han x Fem!Reader Warning/s: 18+ (mentions detailed smut), angst, a bit ooc bi han, sad bi han Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: He started to notice the little things. Author's note: hi! i apologize for not posting as much, i swear i am working on so much fics :')) my mind is just really focused on uni stuff but i promise i'll have more fics posted soon

a map filled with markers drawn on areas—potential locations—where the shirai ryu could be found was laid out on top of the grandmaster's desk. bi han was bent over dozens of paperwork, he had worked tirelessly all night and day with cyrax and sektor planning the cyber initiative for the lin kuei clan.

he lifted his head away from the papers to take a short break from reading, shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples. when was the last time he had a good night's sleep? why did he suddenly feel such a heavy weight place itself upon his shoulders? his eyes lingering across the large study room; the sight of the two other empty desks puts a scowl on his face, the remembrance of his brothers' betrayal still ran deep within him. he then glanced at a far corner of the room, your bookshelf now littered with cyborg pieces and wires. despite the rage brewing inside, bi han could not help but also feel pain within him.

why did they all betray him? how could they all not see his vision for their clan? how could they just easily leave him alone like that?

their absence had majorly shifted the mood within the lin kuei palace. all the recruits were extremely on edge, servants stayed within their quarters for longer periods of time--only coming out to do their duties--or they'd leave and never return, and there was cold dull aura engulfing the area despite the many fires placed around.

for a time, bi han thought it was nothing; just minor adjustments he could handle. however, it only stuck out more like a rash he can never seem to get rid off. every time he took his meals in the dining hall, he felt... off. the sounds he could hear were cyrax and sektor's muttering about the technological advancements they were achieving. bi han was always only focused on himself and his own world, only eating quietly and eyes on his bowl, so please tell him why, when he raised his head to find out what was bothering him, did the table seem much bigger? were those seats always empty? why did these spaces pierce daggers into him? did he always eat so little?

he noticed that his blue ninja outfits after being stitched, did not have that sweet aroma he thought it naturally had. they stench of laundry soap.

after a long while, bi han then began to irritatably notice more of the little things.

during training, the silence of the yard haunts him, bi han noticed the absent sounds of tomas’ karambit hitting the wooden dummies, the sight of kuai liang polishing and sharpening his weapons while speaking to the recruits, tomas’ groans of frustration when he is beaten once again by kuai liang, or the way you praise bi han on when he’s dueling with either a group of lin kuei recruits or one of his brothers. the feeling of your gaze exploring his sweaty body no longer trailed across his skin, he's met with emptiness.

the halls of the lin kuei palace grow colder and its silent aura deafening. bi han has always hated the torturous presence of silence. it reminds him of the isolated bubble he’s built around himself ever since their mother died and his father forced rigorous teachings upon him, he was always required to train alone to avoid distractions and harden himself. from time to time, on his way to his isolation, he would catch both his brothers play fighting in the yard and they would invite him to join in but he’d give them the cold shoulder. this continued on for weeks and his response grew shorter and much more harsh, until finally they stopped and avoided him.

they now kept to themselves and instead of seeking them out, the hurt made bi han more irritated and more focused on his self-improvement; thinking they didn’t like him anymore.

he often thinks if what he did, choosing the betterment of his clan over his family, was the right decision. now, the meeting room where he missed your laugh and voice when you tell about the happenings of your day, kuai liang’s voice of reason when bi han had rash decisions during plannings, or tomas’ stupid bickering of their late father’s principles and ideals. now he stares at the map in front of him and the empty room excluding cyrax and sektor in the corner tinkering with god knows what.

the missing warmth made him shiver, you would always have your hands on his shoulder when he was hunched over the table like this; easing his stress and ice cold blood. he could feel a phantom of you over him, but he yearned for your skin against his, your lips leaving pecks on his nape. bi han sighed in exhaustion.

cyrax noticed this, “grandmaster, are you alright?” he faced his leader and cautiously walked towards his figure, not wanting to intrude his personal space.

bi han just nodded, “i am feeling tired, continue on without me. i wish to lie for a bit.” he said, before pushing himself away from the table and walking towards the door.

“But the plans bi ha—“

“i said i will lie for a bit. did you not hear me cyrax?” bi han growled.

“yes, grandmaster. we shall await you.” cyrax stepped back, watching his leader’s figure exit the study room.

bi han let out a loud exhale before making his way back to his bedroom.

if kuai liang and tomas were here, they’d immediately recommend bi han to go to bed once he shows any sign of exhaustion. they would always reassure him that they could handle the responsibilities for the night, he needed to get some well-deserved rest and should spend some time with his wife. bi han would remember the way they had to call you to the study to be able to persuade him to go to bed. he was offended they would treat him like a child like this but deep down inside, he appreciated the caring gesture—plus he loved seeing you puff your cheeks out of frustration.

his steps grow heavy—the excitement of going to bed now fades slowly since your presence was the only thing that made him feel at ease. the long silent hallways kept draining every ounce of hope and bits of happiness left within him, the mask that he wears became suffocating and the lin kuei badge now burns on his chest as he feels it was the major reason for the decisions he’s made. memories flood through him as he passes by the doors and picture frames along the hallway.

he distinctly remembers the way he fucked you against the walls of this hallway, you were teasing him all day and pressured him to chase around the palace while the others were on missions of their own. he remembers the way he grabbed you by the hair and back-hugged you tightly, grinding his pelvis into your ass and his cold lips between your neck and shoulder. he remembers the feeling of your legs around his waist as he pounded you into the wall, your nails digging and scratching on his back—he could still feel the burning sensation. his hands remember the curviness of your body and the juicy flesh of your ass in his fingertips, keeping you so closely connected to his sweaty body. he remembers how you moaned his name so loud it echoed around the halls, your breathless pants and screams never ceased along with the skin slapping against skin. the picture frames falling from their hooks with every thrust of his hips into yours.

he, especially, remembers your whispers of affection along his lips when he creamed into your pussy. bi han felt his heart swell that moment, he loved you so dearly and deeply. he would freeze the world to a standstill if it meant being with you for all eternity.

after that, he brought you to both of yours’ shared bedroom, crashing on the bed and cuddling you close. he could even remember the sounds of your giggles at his intimate actions.

bi han slams the door of his bedroom open, your faint aroma hit his nose and his eyes sadly glance at the neatly made empty bed. he pictured your figure reading one of the lin kuei history books, your favorite tea sitting on your bedside table. now he is greeted with nothing but the consequences of his own actions. he shivered from the cold breeze coming from the open window as it brushes against his skin, you always wanted it wide open because you loved watching the sun rise as you awake in the morning. the warmth of the sun enveloping your hugged figures.

he closed the door behind him and walked to his small cabinet in the corner, his hands go up to his face to take of his mask and carelessly tossed it on the surface. bi han rubbed his temples trying to ease his head pain.

finally realizing that he could not have the energy to go back to cyrax and sektor, he unbuttoned his blue-tattered uniform and tossed it in a hamper nearby, leaving him topless and his black pants. he then dragged his tired figure to sit at the end of the bed. he bent down to take his shoes off and put them aside—if you were here, you’d tell him to properly put them in the corner of the room so that none of you would trip over it in the morning.

suddenly, he felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. bi han took deep slow breaths and swallowed just so that he could stop the sobs that threatened to escape his lips. he deeply regrets taking the risk of trusting shang tsung’s word, but you would understand that all he did was release them from liu kang’s clutches, right? could you take him back? could any of you take him back after what he’s done? would you three listen to the reason why he did what he had to do? if he had the chance to meet you again, could you give him a second chance to make things right?

his thoughts consume him the entire evening, and he eventually finally lies his head on the pillows. the covers shielded and hid him from the blowing evening breeze, but it couldn't stop the ice from forming within the deepened hole of his heart nor hide the tears flowing down his cheeks.

A/N: ok idk if i like this but the idea came to me so good adhakdjsj also i know this is not the kung lao and raiden x reader fic i was writing for almost weeks now but i needed to get this off my chest and drafts ajsndjkhabdks angsty bi han is best bi han

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

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while we’re on the subject of which taylor swift songs r johnny cage coded, i’d like to bring the following to ur attention:

wildest dreams

mr. perfectly fine

mirrorball

cruel summer

dear john

red

bejeweled

new romantics

how you get the girl

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

“slut!”

i think he knows

you belong with me

enchanted

that’s all for now. thank you.

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

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THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗😖💋

𝐈𝐟 𝐌𝐤𝟏 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ❀❀❀

———————————————————————————

||| johnny cage, Bihan, Kenshi, Tomas, kuai liang. gender neutral (i think), no pronouns used besides “you”. |||

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞

-i had to think about this one but i came to the conclusion that his favorite album would be 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗.

-his favorite song on the album would be 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 & 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢��𝐥.

-but his favorite song in general would be 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬 off the 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 album. he definitely would think about you while listening to that song.

𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

-definitely without a doubt loves 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

-his favorite song would be 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐝.

-another song i think he’d like would be 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬. he’ll think about you while listening to it.

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢

-His favorite album would be 𝐑𝐞𝐝.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.

-He loves listening to the song 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 off the 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦.

𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

-I’d be lying if i didn’t say this man’s guilty pleasure would be listening to country music 😭

-His favorite album would be 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

-He’d also love the song 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫 on the 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

-OMG HE LOVESS 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄

-Favorite song would be 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧 & 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭

-Another song i think he would like would be 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 on 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗

(OMG HES SO CUTE I LOVE HIM SM)

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

Text

😂😂😭😭

𝐈𝐟 𝐌𝐤𝟏 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ❀❀❀

———————————————————————————

||| johnny cage, Bihan, Kenshi, Tomas. gender neutral (i think), no pronouns used besides “you”. |||

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞

-i had to think about this one but i came to the conclusion that his favorite album would be 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗.

-his favorite song on the album would be 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 & 𝐡𝐨�� 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

-but his favorite song in general would be 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬 off the 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 album. he definitely would think about you while listening to that song.

𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

-definitely without a doubt loves 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

-his favorite song would be 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐝.

-another song i think he’d like would be 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬. he’ll think about you while listening to it.

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢

-His favorite album would be 𝐑𝐞𝐝.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.

-He loves listening to the song 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 off the 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦.

𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

-I’d be lying if i didn’t say this man’s guilty pleasure would be listening to country music 😭

-His favorite album would be 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

-He’d also love the song 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫 on the 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

-OMG HE LOVESS 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄

-Favorite song would be 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧 & 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭

-Another song i think he would like would be 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 on 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗

(OMG HES SO CUTE I LOVE HIM SM)

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

Text

𝐈𝐟 𝐌𝐤𝟏 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ❀❀❀

———————————————————————————

||| johnny cage, Bihan, Kenshi, Tomas, kuai liang. gender neutral (i think), no pronouns used besides “you”. |||

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞

-i had to think about this one but i came to the conclusion that his favorite album would be 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗.

-his favorite song on the album would be 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 & 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

-but his favorite song in general would be 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬 off the 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 album. he definitely would think about you while listening to that song.

𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

-definitely without a doubt loves 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

-his favorite song would be 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐝.

-another song i think he’d like would be 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬. he’ll think about you while listening to it.

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢

-His favorite album would be 𝐑𝐞𝐝.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.

-He loves listening to the song 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 off the 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦.

𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

-I’d be lying if i didn’t say this man’s guilty pleasure would be listening to country music 😭

-His favorite album would be 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

-His favorite song on the album would be 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

-He’d also love the song 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫 on the 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

-OMG HE LOVESS 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄

-Favorite song would be 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧 & 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭

-Another song i think he would like would be 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 on 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗

(OMG HES SO CUTE I LOVE HIM SM)

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tomassexypecs · 3 months

Note

Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙

ofcccc love

kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight

uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))

notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF

masterlist <3

♡

kenshi >

kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.

he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.

you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?

"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."

you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.

you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.

then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.

"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.

his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.

♡

syzoth >

he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.

"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.

"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.

he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.

as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.

"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."

syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.

you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.

"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."

syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.

you make him nervous, and that's really cute.

♡

johnny >

johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.

"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.

his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!

what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.

he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.

johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.

you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.

"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."

"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.

♡

liu kang >

he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.

liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.

that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.

he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.

liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.

"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."

liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.

geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.

"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"

geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.

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