Could you do Syzoth sub headcanons smut (bullet points pls)?
Imma say this right now, we are NOT fucking him in the lizard form. I have my limits 🧍♀️
I see Syzoth as someone who is quite soft
Not soft as in "can't take anything" but soft as in "would enjoy quietly cuddling beside someone"
His life has been quite chaotic. Ran off by his people, in a traveling circus to be stared and mocked, poked and prodded by Shang Tsung, wife and child taken off the census-
He's had a terrible life with minor glimpses of good times, and he really wants the opposite
So I see Syzoth as someone who's not just a sub when it comes to sex. I think his softness translates into sex of course, but also how he is with you in general
That need to feel safe and protected comes out because he knows he can trust you
Outside of sex, he is very attached to you
Knowing that you're okay gives him comfort
The type of sub that needs to have his face nuzzled in your neck all the time
Heavy into praise
People have been on his ass from birth. He needs some praise
Could possibly warm up to the idea of collaring but it could also give him flashbacks of the circus or Shang Tsung so be very patient with him. He might have to start off with a ring or bracelet first
The type of sub that doesn't necessarily need super kinky sex. He's honestly fine with just regular, sensual, slow sex
He's a romantic
Kisses you everywhere he can. If you allow it, he's there
Man is a worshipper. You never have to worry about feeling unloved with him around
Imagine him kissing up your ankles, your legs, your thighs, until his lips finally reach your cunt (or dick) and he extends his tongue inside you (or around you)
Speaking of
We all agree he's amazing at head, right?
Giving head can be used as a reward for him
Loves grasping your legs as he's giving you so much pleasure
Mix in you praising him and he's likely to cum untouched
Is into marking, but specifically, scratching
I could be on bullshit but I can see his skin being harder to mark, even in his human form, but when you put all your power into marking him as yours as he fucks into you? Fantastic. Give him 14 more of em
Definitely a moaner
Is not above begging
I get the vibe that his body is pretty sensitive. Idk why. I can just see minor touches to his dick making him tremble
I know I never mention size during fanfic but I really believe Syzoth appreciates thickness
This doesn't mean he's NOT into smaller people. I just mean he's a "tits or ass? Thighs" type of person
He's a damn lizard. Do you really think he gives a fuck about size?
Yall remember when low rise jeans were super popular and because they're so low, the pooch is very much out and about? Or how it would bunch up the sides of your stomach and give you these handlebars kinda?
Involve him
Idk I just think "does this dress make me look fat" would irk him
Sit on his face immediately
Honestly any sort of oral, he's there for. He gets a itch for it
I kinda wanna say he's into free use but also no?
I have this scene in my head where he's doing something and you come up behind him and grope his tits from behind and he's like "now?" but it's all whiney and shit because he's bricked already
But also I don't wanna say yeah 100%. Put a pin in this. We can discuss
This might be getting a little long so imma wrap up my yapping
Syzoth as a sub is a pleaser. A worshipper. His love for you is clear as day. He needs reassurance and to be at your hip and to hear you whisper in his ear how much you love him and you're not going anywhere. For some, the clingyness might be too much. For others, it's perfect. At his core, he just wants to feel secure and make sure the people he loves are protected. Him being a sub is a mix of sex and daily life. He's a huge romantic in the body of a warrior. Let him be a romantic with you.
Didn't realize I had so many thoughts on Syzoth but here we are
notes - I know for a fact this Czech boy likes eating cookie 🤥
pairing - tomas vrbada x f!reader
summary - Mind scrambled in the efforts to amend his wrongs, Tomas finds himself at the center of an internal battle.
cw! oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation and slight edging
masterlist chapter iii. chapter v.
general warning - foul language & explicit sexual content!
The air within the room of the pavilion felt heavy, like a smog had crept in beneath the door from outside. Tomas was avoiding eye contact, staring straight down at the map as Liu Kang spoke. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides, his jaw so tight his teeth creaked within his own skull. Beside him, Kuai Liang glanced at him, offering a weak half smile of comfort. The very sight inflamed him with anger, a short breath leaving his chest as he looked back at the map.
Liu Kang needed them to stop a sorcerer named Shang Tsung, a new mission that of course the Fire God would be entrusting to them. Typical. For a moment he felt that he could understood Bi-Han’s source of anger, but only for a moment. The four champions weren’t nearly well enough prepared to take on the fight Liu Kang was describing, and while it was an honor to serve the God of Fire, the weight of their predicament weighed upon them all.
Tomas himself felt.. tired. He was tired of this wild goose chase that was figuring out how Quan Chi and Shang Tsung came into so much power, loaded on top of their own personal endeavors. Bi-Han’s relationship with both of his brothers had been strained by his challenging new ideals, and the responsibility that came with being Grandmaster. And while Kuai Liang did not speak much about his own problems, he was struggling within his own ways. Tomas felt at a loss. It was in how much he wrestled with his identity that not only his familial relationships were affected, but his budding relationship with you felt all but a naive dream now.
Why did affection have to hurt so much? Tomas hoped he would never know. He hoped he could will the yearning he had for you, because even now, nothing ever good came from his love.
He was torn back to reality by Bi-Han’s rumbling voice, stern and serious as he went over the arrangements to leave when night fell. Each of the brother’s bodies stiff as they bowed and filed out of the meeting room together. Neither Kuai Liang nor Bi-Han spoke much as they walked in the general direction of the private dorms they resided in. Their silence left Tomas to his own thoughts, swirling about in his mind as he stared at the gardens all around them. He didn’t want to think much about what had happened before the meeting, an image of your face flitting across his mind before he could help it.
The image so quick across his brain filled his body with adrenaline like no other. Anger and shame lapped at the corners of his throat, his skin prickled with goose flesh as he tried to shake the feeling of humiliation that only a whisper of you brought back to him. Tomas pushed his room door open harsher than he should’ve as pictures of you danced around behind his eyes. You were cause for a headache no doubt.
His body moving swiftly, trying to pack his things up quickly so they could leave sooner and be as far away from the temple as they could manage on the mission. His temples began to ache just thinking about it even, his hands coming up to cradle the sides of his head as he stood in the center of the room. Scarred fingers curled into his silver hair as he looked down at his shoes.
Tomas had managed to silence his own mind when loud thumps came from the other side of his door. The knocks sharp and well meaning, certainly an important matter which the shinobi could guess had something to do with the mission they’d been given. He swung open the door quickly when he got to it, stopping mid question just to stare down at you with mild confusion. There was still some lingering anger behind his eyes, an emotion that clouded his already pale irises.
He slammed the door before you had the chance to speak, a strong gust of air blowing against your face as you stood there in shock. Your brows furrowed as you stared at the door in front of you, frustration bubbling up in your chest. You couldn’t believe it, you had all the reason to be upset, so why was it him that was treating you this way? You knocked a second time on the door, bordering pounding as you tried to control the tightly winding anger in your body. Tomas could at least tell you to go away before slamming the door on your face.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice rang out, muffled through the wood. A sigh came after he spoke, irritated obviously. “And why is that? You can’t just slam the door in my face and expect me to get the message.” You huffed, clenching your fist, glancing down at the box of Mooncake’s in your hand, which you’d brought as a parting gift. “I’m getting ready to leave, can’t I want some privacy?” He retorted through the door, surely making that aggravated face he always made when the champions made idiotic decisions during training.
“Privacy you’re entitled that much..” You sighed, dejected in a sense as your body began to cool down from its wash of anger. You couldn’t hold the entirety of your frustration against him. “But can’t I at least see you off? I know you three will leave without saying goodbye.” The words came out softly, bordering a plea as you frowned down at the box in your hand. The door swung open in an instant, startling you as Tomas stood there in thinner more relaxed clothing.
His expression was still, as if trying to hold its firmness as he looked you over. For a moment you felt weird under his harsher gaze, a feeling of anxious excitement fizzling throughout your body. You quickly shook the sensation off, extending your arm to hold the box out to him. The treats had originally been a gift to you, several boxes of several different flavors specifically tailored to your tastes had been a gift from Liu Kang - but you figured Tomas deserved the reward more than you. He stared at you for a long time before tentatively taking the mooncake from your hand, brushing his fingers against yours.
“Is this your attempt at bribing me?” Tomas said, his irritated undertone slowly melting away as he looked down at the fruit flavored mooncake. At the assumption, you rolled your eyes at Tomas, smiling softly as you looked at him again. “I suppose.” You replied, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you looked around, an awkwardness filling the air around the both of you. “Come in.” He sighed finally, stepping to the side as an invitation.
The surprise that dawned on your face was laughable, humor lighting up in Tomas’ eyes as he observed you. Your feet moved without much provoking, your body sliding past his in the narrow doorway. The room was humbly decorated with furniture and trinkets that were no doubt there long before Tomas was there - a few paintings on the walls, a bookshelf, two chairs and a coffee table to the right of the room, and the bed offset from the door, a wooden chest sitting in front of it. “So.. leaving tonight.” You coughed, glancing at him as he walked in behind you. “Mmhm.” The hum rippled deeply from his throat, giving way to the fizzling feeling in your stomach again. You stood in the center of the room, rocking on your feet awkwardly as Tomas tucked the box into his duffle bag. The thought struck you like a moving train, realizing as Tomas turned back to you that you two had never really been alone like this before.
“Surely you three cannot at least stay until morning? It would give you time to.. I dunno, pack?” The words came jumbled out, like a bow dragged across the strings of an ill-tuned violin. You were grasping at straws now. “None of us packed that much to need that kind of time. The longer we wait, the more Shang Tsung gets the upper hand.” He replied in turn, facing away from you.
Silent washed over you two again, your thoughts swirling. You two would walk together to and from training and lessons with the four champions, or the two of you would meditate together or have a lunch together when everyone else was too busy. But you two had never been so isolated like this before. The thought made your heart pump stronger, your body more attuned to his movements around the room. You were watching the muscles ripple in his back as he began taking a few personal items off of the bookshelf. His shoulders shifting, the simple shirt he wore occasionally lifting with the raise of his muscular arms, slivers of his pale skin flashing to you like tempting rays of moonlight. You were being as bad at staring as Raiden was. This must’ve been the reason why Johnny always wore sunglasses.
You snapped yourself out of the trance when Tomas turned around to put his things away, his large scarred hands resting on his hips as he raised a brow at you. “Huh?” The sound tumbled from your mouth when he made an expectant face, the kind of face you make while awaiting an answer to a question. Now it was your turn to act stupid. Tomas scoffed slightly, shaking his head as he rounded the coffee table towards you.
“I asked why you’re here.” He stated matter of factly, stopping just a few steps before you. In that moment you could disappear. Had he caught on so quickly? “To bid you farewell.” You answered, blinking at him as a dissatisfied hue rippled on Tomas’ eyes. “Really?” He grunted, stepping closer to you, furrowing his brows at you as you shuffled where you stood. “Well I.. I wanted to see you.” You replied nervously, scratching your cheek as you glanced around.
After a long awkward pause, Tomas sighed, really sighed. It was a long breath, annoyed almost, but overall just disappointed. You looked back at him, watching his head tip back and his adams apple bob in his throat, his hand dragging over his face slowly. Your heart could explode in your chest just watching him, anxiety and anticipation pumping through your veins as he looked back at you with droopy eyes.
“How long are we going to keep dancing around this?” Tomas spoke, staring at you with a slight deadpan as you furrowed your brows in slight faux confusion. “Around what? What’re you talking about?” You gulped, avoiding his direct gaze. When you said that his body tightened for a moment, before relaxing, his arms lifting from his sides so he could grab your biceps. The grip was firm, but not so tight, his thumbs tracing minuscule blemishes on your skin.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He said sternly, head craning to follow your face as you looked away. “We can’t keep pretending that what is between us does not exist. And I can’t allow myself to accept hiding what I feel for you.. and what I know you feel for me.” He spoke carefully, running his hands down your arms slowly as you looked up at him. Tomas was a private man when it came to his feelings and you knew that the day you’d met him. To hear his profession felt like a dream, or hallucination. But as you met his pale gaze, and his eyes swirled familiarly, you knew his words had been true.
“Why didn’t you say something before?” You whispered, voice trembling as you gathered the fabric of his shirt in your hands. You could feel your throat tightening, a warmth filling your body as you fought the urge to cry. You felt crushed in a way, despite the happiness that bumped in your heart. Who knew when the brothers would return from this mission? It could be a few days.. but if anything held them up, it would be weeks. And that was if things went well, what if he died without you ever getting the chance to be with him? “I was waiting for you to say something.” Tomas admitted through a dry chuckle, drawing a shaky laugh from your chest.
“I just wish we had time.” You sighed, smiling at him before you tipped your head against his firm chest. “If we did I would have never said anything.” Tomas tsked, sliding his large arms around your back, embracing you as you basked in his warmth. So badly had you craved this without realizing it. You had lived amongst each other for months, and now the threat of a prolonged separation was cause for confession? You two were both helpless. The thought made your chuckle, your body shifting to return Tomas’ embrace for a long minute.
You pulled away first, looking at him with warm eyes as he stroked his palm against your spine. Tomas moved first before you could open your mouth to speak, catching your mouth with his before you could suggest something to entirely ruin the mood. The kiss was firm, you hadn’t expected it, in fact you expected to say something to fill the silence between you, but this was good too. Tomas’ lips slid against yours, his arms around you tightening as you reciprocated his kiss. You’d never admit you’d thought about this before, about a chance at living life vicariously. About abandoning all reason and rhyme, just to live one day in the ever far away dream about being with him.
Yet here he was now, consuming your entire being as he held you close. His tongue pushing inside your mouth when you gave no protest. His large warm hands cupping your ass, body stiff as your hands grasped at his back. By the time he’d pulled away, you felt lightheaded, a thin string of saliva glimmering between you. Tomas gave you a slight smile, cheeky as you tucked your face against his shoulder. He smelt of leather and a faint hint of smoke, his natural scent engulfing you as he squeezed you tight against his body.
“Will you at least give me one thing before I go?” He muttered against your temple, sliding his hands up and down your waist before settling on your hips. For a moment you were scared to speak, unsure if when you did that any of this would be real anymore. “What more could I give you?” You hummed softly as you finally pulled away from his shoulder, blinking at him slowly, still holding him against you, afraid he may dissolve into mist before your eyes. When you spoke those words a certain light sizzled in Tomas’ eyes, humor and excitement flaming all over his face as he looked at your expression. “You.” He said simply, lowly, a masculine grunt leaving his chest as he squeezed your hips softly.
You could die happy now. Your face burned brightly, ears on fire as your mouth dropped open. Tomas could be funny with you, but he was brazen with only his brothers. Never before had he ever been so bold with you. “I.. well.. me? What do you mean?” You squeaked as he began walking you backwards his bed, your feet shuffling as he groped your ass again. It wasn’t to say you didn’t exactly know what he meant, you were no fool. You just didn’t understand why. You two had built a relationship on affection for each other yes, and you often did yearn for him, but you never would’ve thought that he hungered for you that way.
Tomas say you on the edge of the bed carefully, your eyes wide as you watched him stand back. You were a bundle of nerves now, unable to fight the urge to glance down at the tent bed pitched in his pants. It was huge, your face flushing as you realized that it wasn’t even at full stand yet. You tore your eyes away from his crotch after a long moment, staring down at your lap as he clenched and unclenched his hands. He didn’t have nearly enough time to give you a proper fucking, yet the urge still coursed through his body.
“Lift up your skirt.” He said after a few minutes of silence, his chest rising and falling quickly as he controlled his nerve. You looked up when he spoke finally, a moment of anxiety crossing your face before you followed his lead. You raised the long silk skirt you’d wore in formality to the meeting with Liu Kang - bunching up the fabric in your hand slowly, stopping at your mid thigh when Tomas stepped closer to you. You half expected him to order you into some kind of precarious position, only watch him with surprise and some mild amusement as he got down on one knee in front of you.
“What’re you doing?” You giggled, watching him as he slid his hands up your calves. Was he going to play tickle with you? You’d yet to figure out what he liked.. but he seemed the type to like scandalous games like that. He returned your laugh with a chuckle of his own, studying your face as you relaxed in incremental time. “Taking what you’ve given to me.” He hummed, and spread your legs slowly. Was he going to shoot up like a snake? That didn’t make sense. Instead he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed as he finally dropped his other knee.
You realized what he was doing when he threw your legs over his shoulders, his hands sliding up your thighs as he slowly began pulling your skirt the rest of the way up. It was like he was taking a wrapper off candy. “Wait Tomas..!” You gasped as he dragged your panties down your legs in one swift motion, leaving you bare to him. “You don’t have to do that!” You exclaimed, nervously grasping at his gray hair as he blew air against your cunt. “I want to.” He replied simply, barely looking at you as he pushed his head between the crevice of your legs.
Tomas dragged his tongue up your pussy, your legs jumping in surprise atop his shoulders. You gasped loudly, clamping a hand over your mouth as he began making slow figure eights against your folds. The wet muscle that was his tongue was warm, slick as he salivated at the taste of you. Even as he lapped at your pussy he was being impatient, targeting your clit when he found it. He wanted nothing more than to spend an entire night with you, even if it meant only one. Your gasps melting into gradual breathy moans as he found rhythm. To him you were like a songbird singing, soft sighs leaving your throat in waves of five before a more guttural moan escaped you as he circled back around to press his tongue against your clit.
He knew exactly what he was doing, thankfully. His ministrations slowing down in tease as you began to ride towards that bigger wave. When the pleasure began to fade, he would begin again, listening to the trembling gasps that came from your throat as he sucked your clit. It was ritualistic, the way he seemed to be worshipping you with his mouth, catching onto each of your bodies quirks so he could utilize them. Your body curled forward when he finally dipped his tongue towards your hole, tracing around it slowly before pressing inwards as far as he could stretch his tongue. You whined softly, dragging the balls of your feet against his lower back as he pumped his tongue inside of you slowly.
“Oh gods..” You moaned sweetly, grasping at his shoulders as he swirled his tongue inside your cunt, lapping at your walls as your arousal pooled inside of you. When he pulled away you felt almost at a loss, quickly sated as he introduced his hand to you. His scarred calloused fingers dragging up your slit, brushing your clit before circling back for your entrance. You breathed faster now, heavier as you stared down at his pale hair. Your attention torn away again as you began to focus, centered once again on his movements as he pushed his fingers past your pussy.
Your brain was scattered by the sensation, thick fingers wiggling past where yours could barely reach. His hands had been roughened by his years of training, not that you were exactly complaining, his calloused fingers had been made deft. His fingers slowly, then quickly pumping inside of you as he brought his mouth back to your cunt. Your body tingled deliciously, your mind slowly tangling as you curled forward again, eyes rolling back for a moment when he began lapping at your already puffy bud. “Tomas.” You mewled, digging your fingers into the back of his shoulders as you surfed closer towards the wave of release. Those same soft breath like gasps giving way to long wanton moans as he sucked at your aching clit.
You didn’t know when that wave of pleasure crashed down on you, a stretch of half moans and cries leaving your throat as you came. Your legs tightened around Tomas’ head, thighs squishing against his ears as you shuddered and let your body tremble. It wasn’t until the pleasure and began to ebb away that Tomas pulled his head up, his chin glistening as he searched your face. His pale face was hued a soft pink, though no match for the redness that engulfed your own face. Your brows were relaxed, eyes slightly droopy as you met his gaze, chest still heaving as you caught your breath. For a moment neither of you said anything, a quietness stretched over you two until Tomas gave you a smug almost boyish grin, leaning his head against your exposed thigh, rubbing the other with his hand.
“Did you like that?” He asked rhetorically, chuckling to himself, watching as your relieved expression turned into one of mild embarrassment. You wished he could do that, exactly that, for all eternity. “Ugh..” You sighed, slapping his cheek softly, pinching the skin between your fingers. “Don’t get so cocky.” He laughed at that, a deep husky laugh that made your insides throb again. Gods, if he had the time to spare you would’ve begged him to dick you down right then and there. But alas, he had more important matters than fucking you until dawn.
Tomas brought you a towel after a few more minutes of talking, letting you clean yourself up as he looked for your underwear. It was a cute lacy pair, something you were glad about picking out for the day instead of some embarrassing old pair. When you were done cleaning up he pulled you up from the bed, squeezing you tight in his arms as he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss gentler, but still needy. You felt like you could melt as he kissed down your cheek, centering his attention on your throat. You laughed as he kissed your skin, sliding his too big hands all around your body as if to burn how you felt into his memory.
“What’s the matter with you?” You giggled when he finally pulled away, your hands cupping his face as he stared at you. You could feel his palms sliding up your belly, fingers dancing against your sides. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.. can’t I have the desire to have you fresh in my mind before I go?” He hummed back, stopping his pursuit up your belly when his hands finally found your bosom. Each of his hands cupping one of your breasts each. And out went the adoration between you two as he began to squeeze your boobs in his hands.
“I suppose.” You sighed, looking down as he began to push your tits together marveling at the tight cleavage visible down the front of your top, his perverse curiosity prominent as he squeezed them just to watch the skin bulge out between his fingers. “Is it really necessary to have this fresh in your mind?” You spoke up when he pulled the front of your top far down enough to get a naked view of your boobs. “Very much so.” He retorted in an instant, your hands coming up to slap his hands away from your breasts before he could rip your shirt off just to continue his pursuit. Tomas grabbed your hands when you swatted his away, holding them in his grasp as he looked at you again, a smirk tugging wide on his face.
He leant forward to kiss you once again, pressing his moth hard against yours before pulling away. “You’re a vision.” He whispered between you two, dropping your hands so he could reach out to hold your waist again. You blushed in response to his words, humming to yourself happily when he kissed you again, hands running up his muscular biceps. “Let me know when you’re back. I’ll come to you.” You murmured against his lips, nuzzling your nose against his as he nodded.
The remainder of his belongings were in the nightstand beside the bed, items he let you grab for him as he finished packing. You held a few things in your hands, a small book, a picture and a silver chain with his clan sigil hanging from it. You studied the picture for a moment, recognizing all three brothers immediately. The sight brought a smile to your face, able to deduct that the photograph had been taken some years earlier when all three men were in their youth.
You handed the items off to Tomas when he held his hand out for them, a sadness filling you as he finished zipping up his duffle bag and picked it up. He should’ve been at the meeting point within the gardens with his brothers about thirty minutes ago. But it was a reprimanding from his brothers that he would take if it meant basking in your presence for just a few more moments. You walked him to the door, standing there as he checked his things once more. He turned around after a moment, setting the duffle bag down. “Come here.” Tomas hummed, taking you into his arms gladly, pressing long kisses to your lips as you cupped his cheeks. It was a farewell he did not deserve, especially not from you, but he’d be an idiot to reject it.
Finally he pulled away from you, stepping back as you crossed your arms and watched him grab his things again. As he reached for the doorknob, Tomas felt the urge to look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes were sad, but you smiled at him still. “I..” Tomas began, blinking at you, watching as your attention lit up again. He wanted so badly to speak his mind, but the words died in his throat before they could make it off of his tongue. Instead he smiled at you, adjusting the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder. “I’ll see you.” He instead coughed out, watching you nod gingerly, smile still warm on your face.
Tomas knew love and affection could not coexist with his life as a shinobi, but they were stubborn enough to try anyways. And he was half certain now, they he would never be able to resist it at all.
When you ride Bi-Han’s thigh… he’s mean about it, wearing a poker face as he teases you cruelly. Sitting there and watching you use him to get off, not helping in the slightest because he likes how pathetic you get. He wants to hear you beg him for help, beg him to put his hands on you.
Jolting you upwards just to ruin the rhythm you have going, even if you could get yourself to cum – he’s not going to let you. Face stoic but eyes glinting with a sick sort of satisfaction at how you whine and wiggle down into him. He can tell you’re frustrated and he’s loving it, amused by your struggle.
He’s ignoring his aching erection just to be cruel to you, he’s a bastard like that. Getting off on your reactions enough to wait, a patience he doesn’t possess usually. Enjoying your sopping wet cunt leaking onto his clothed thigh too much to give in yet, tensing his muscles every now and again just to make your pleasure that much more unpredictable.
It’s not until you’re folding into him and panting out pitiful pleas that he’s grabbing your waist and grinding you down firmly. Grumbling about how he has to do everything for you but he likes it this way, finally cracking a small smile at how you’re shuddering in his grasp.
As soon as you cum, he’s manhandling you so he can fuck you properly. Patience run out and desperate to get his dick wet, he’ll be mean then too. Taunting you with degradative praises, they’ll almost sound like compliments and in your cock drunk state – you’ll take them as such.
Prompt: Who knew getting stuck in an elevator together would solve unresolved tension?
Pairing(s): Kenshi x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, cunnilingus, Kenshi is a lil shit
A/N: 🫠🫠 If only..
Masterlist
The elevator gave a violent jolt, then went dead silent.
You blinked at the metal doors, waiting for the hum of movement to kick back in. Nothing. Just a long, heavy quiet—punctuated by a slow, deeply annoyed sigh.
Of course.
Because the universe hates you.
And because the only other person in the elevator was Kenshi Takahashi.
You glanced over, already dreading the situation. He stood there, arms crossed, posture painfully calm in that “I’m pretending this doesn’t bother me, but I’m about two seconds from slicing my way out of here” kind of way.
“…Please tell me you didn’t break the elevator with your telekinesis.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “I could ask if you overloaded it with all that attitude you’re carrying.”
You shot him a glare. “Cute.”
“Thank you,” he said evenly—like he actually meant it.
The worst part? He did mean it.
Gods, you swear he’s been spending too much time with Cage. He’s starting to sound like him.
Now you were both stuck here.
Just perfect.
He tilted his head toward you, the faintest smirk curving his lips.
“Still mad at me?”
You folded your arms. “Still impossible?”
He chuckled under his breath. “So, yes.”
Honestly? Screw Lord Liu Kang for setting you both on this mission. Not like he was aware of your past with the swordsman—but he’s a god, for god’s sake. The god who built your timeline. He knew exactly what he was doing sending you both on this mission alone.
You exhaled in annoyance and scanned the elevator again. No movement, no lights, no hum — just silence. You checked the control panel for the fourth time, pressed the help button twice for good measure. Nothing.
You looked up at the security camera in the corner and snorted. Useless. You’d both knocked out the building’s surveillance hours ago. Maybe that had been a little overkill.
Behind you, Kenshi shifted, then lowered himself to the floor with an exhale of resignation. You turned just in time to catch him sitting cross-legged, his sword resting beside him like this was all perfectly reasonable.
“Planning on taking a nap?” you snapped.
“Might as well,” he said, infuriatingly calm. “Unless you’d rather I start carving a way out and risk dropping us twenty floors.”
You glared. “We’re supposed to be finding a way out, Takahashi. Not waiting for divine intervention.”
He tilted his head. “Unless you can fly, I’m pretty sure divine intervention is our best bet.”
You huffed, folding your arms and turning away before you said something stupid. He wasn’t even looking at you — couldn’t, technically — but it still felt like he was. Like he could see you. Read you. It always felt like that with him.
The air between you grew thick, familiar, dangerous.
You told yourself it was fine. That it didn’t matter anymore. But sitting in the same small space as him made every buried memory crawl to the surface — every late night, every whispered joke, every time you swore you were just “blowing off steam.”
Right. Steam that came with him buying you dinner, walking you home, holding you like it meant something.
Somewhere between friendship and the sheets, you’d done the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t.
You’d fallen.
You hadn’t planned to fall for him.
Back then, it was supposed to be simple. Friends. Partners. Occasional nights tangled in each other’s sheets when life got too sharp to face alone. But somewhere between the laughter and the late-night talks, your chest started to ache whenever he smiled.
So, like an idiot, you told him.
You confessed — every messy, vulnerable thing spilling out before you could stop it. Told him you wanted more. That maybe the two of you could be something.
Kenshi listened without interrupting. No flicker of emotion, no subtle twitch of reaction — just that unreadable face of his.
And then he said, flat and final:
“Rid yourself of that delusion. I don’t have time for such things.”
You still remembered how the words hit, sharp enough to cut the air from your lungs.
He’d stayed that night, of course. He’d taken you one last time — hard, silent, detached — and when dawn came, he was gone. No note. No look back.
You’d cried until you hated yourself for it.
After that, you built yourself back up from the wreckage, piece by piece. You did what you were best at: work. Killed who you had to. Survived. And when Liu Kang came calling, offering a purpose that wasn’t just blood and contracts, you said yes without thinking twice.
You hadn’t expected to find him there.
Reborn from the underworld of the Yakuza into the polished ranks of the champions.
Since then, you’d done your best to play it cool — partners again, colleagues now, pretending none of it mattered. Pretending you hadn’t once known the taste of his skin, or the way his voice sounded when he whispered your name.
You’d done so well at pretending.
Still, you felt the resentment rise like heat under your skin whenever he was near—sharp, slow-burning, impossible to ignore. Pretending it didn’t sting only made it worse. More than once you had to step away, take a breath, keep your hands from doing something you’d later regret.
Now, stuck in a metal box with nowhere to go, every brittle piece of it threatened to snap.
“Do I bother you that much?” he asked, voice casual as if the question were about the weather.
“Yes,” you hissed. The word came out sharp and dangerous. “You’re irritating. You always are.”
He hummed, amused. “Am I?” he asked, letting the tease hang. “I don’t remember you reacting this way before.”
“Quiet, Takahashi.” You leveled him with a glare that would have frozen lesser men. “Keep it up and I’ll beat you senseless—right here.”
He laughed, light and incredulous. “So violent. Like an angry, wet cat.” His smirk deepened. “So much attitude.”
“Yeah?” Your voice was low. “This kitty bites.”
He shrugged, dangerous and completely unbothered, and the grin on his face changed into something that pulled at the edges of your resolve. “Or… I could just fuck the anger out of you.”
You blinked, stunned at the bluntness of it. His gaze was steady, unreadable, the corner of his mouth tilted in a way that promised trouble.
For a moment, the elevator was smaller than a heartbeat. You stared at him, jaw going slack without meaning to, the fight drained out of you by the sheer audacity of his offer.
“…What?” you asked, suddenly small, sure you’d misheard him.
He tipped his head and that same crooked smile settled on his face. Calm. Dangerous. Completely unflappable.
“Want me to take the edge off?” he repeated, voice low enough to make the air between you hum.
For a beat you just stared at him, baffled and furious all at once. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, stepping around him with deliberate slowness until you were standing over his seated form. He lifted his face to you, eyes steady, sensing you the way he always did.
You let the smile you wore be sharp. “Can you even do that now? You’re blind, Kenshi. Things aren’t the same as they were.” The taunt came out clipped, but there was something else under it — curiosity, maybe, or a test.
His expression didn’t change, but the tilt of his chin said everything. “Blind doesn’t mean helpless,” he said quietly. “It means I notice different things.”
He sounded almost amused. Dangerous. Certain.
You swallowed against the tightness in your throat, suddenly aware of how close you were leaning over him. The elevator felt smaller than ever.
You hummed low, weighing his words. It had been a while since anyone had touched you right—and no one ever came close to him.
Your eyes dragged over him again, slow, conflicted, hungry.
Tentatively, you slid your fingers into his hair. His breath caught just a little as you tugged his head back, forcing him to look up at you. That maddening smirk was still there—worse, it deepened when your nails grazed his scalp.
His hands found your thighs, steady and deliberate, thumbs tracing idle circles against them. But he didn’t move beyond that. He just waited, patient, still, as though he could feel every flicker of hesitation in you.
It was infuriating how well he could read you.
The elevator was quiet again, save for the low, synchronized rhythm of your breathing.
You decided to throw caution out the window. What was the worst that could happen? He uses you, leaves again? You’d already survived that once. You could do it again.
“Fine,” you said flatly, giving nothing away. “Let’s see you try, Takahashi.”
His answering smile was soft—too soft. Dangerous in its calm. He rose to stand before you, close enough that the air shifted between your bodies. His hands found you easily, tracing the curve of your waist, the slope of your hips, the quiet catch of your breath.
Then his lips brushed yours—barely a touch, more a promise—and he kissed you like he’d been starving for it. The sound that left your throat wasn’t surprise but something rawer, older. You kissed him back, fierce and unrestrained, years of anger bleeding through every motion.
He hummed against your mouth, drawing it all in, unbothered by your bite or the edge in your touch. His fingers moved lower, deftly finding the belts strapped to your thighs. One by one, he undid them, unbuckling your weapons and setting them aside with a quiet clink of metal on metal.
When he straightened, his breath was ragged against your ear. “Still think I’ve lost my touch?”
“You’ve yet to prove yourself, Takahashi,” you murmured, your voice low and daring.
He chuckled, a quiet, dark sound that vibrated against your skin as his hands continued their deliberate exploration. His lips left yours only to find your throat, moving slowly down its curve, teasing at your pulse before leaving faint marks in his wake.
A soft sound escaped you before you could stop it—your body remembered him all too well. His breath hitched when you tilted your head back, granting him more access. The tension between you burned, old memories reigniting like coals under wind.
Then, as if muscle memory had guided him, his hands slipped lower, skimming your waist before catching at your rear. He squeezed, just enough to pull a startled laugh from you—one that broke the tension for a single heartbeat.
The sound made his lips curve against your neck. “Still the same,” he whispered. “Still can’t decide if you want to hit me or kiss me.”
Your answer came in the form of a smirk and a handful of his uniform, dragging him closer. He followed willingly, until the space between you disappeared completely.
He made quick work of your belt, the soft click of the buckle echoing too loudly in the small metal box. When the leather slipped free, he didn’t rush; he only tugged at the edge of your waistband downwards, teasing at the boundary between restraint and release.
His fingers traced the path back up your thigh, slow and certain, stopping when they reached the thin fabric between you. The touch wasn’t bold, just deliberate—his way of reminding you how easily he could undo every bit of control you thought you had.
You exhaled shakily, leaning into him before you even realized you were moving. The air around you grew heavy, charged with the kind of tension that had nowhere else to go.
He tilted his head, sensing your quickening breath, and smiled faintly. “Seems I still know you,” he murmured.
Your only reply was a low, helpless sound that made his smirk widen before his mouth found yours again—hungrier this time.
He pushed the fabric aside to run his fingers along your slit, just enough to draw out another sound from you, one he swallowed as he leaned closer, his lips finding the edge of your jaw.
The air was heavy now, thick with the scent of lust. His touch was careful, almost testing, finding a rhythm that sent warmth spiraling through you. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, fingers curling around his arm for balance as the feeling built and pulsed beneath your skin. It wasn’t enough—not nearly—and he seemed to sense it, deepening the motion until the soft sound of your breathing filled the small space between you.
It was different now. The last time you’d been together, he could see everything—how your body responded, how you moved for him.
Now, sight was gone; only touch and sound remained. Every shiver, every breath you drew was amplified for him, each one grounding him deeper in the moment.
He could feel the dampness of your skin, the way your body seemed to drip for him with every pump of his fingers, squeezing them as if asking for more. It consumed him—the need to memorize you again, not with his eyes this time, but with his hands, his breath, the quiet music of you unraveling beneath his touch.
He sank to his knees in front of you, slow and deliberate, fingers hooking in the thin fabric at your hips. When he drew it down, his breath caught—the faint, intoxicating scent of you pulling a low sound from his throat.
His hands slid along your thighs, parting them just enough to bring him closer. The first brush of his mouth against you made your breath falter, the softest sound escaping before you could stop it. Your hand found its way into his hair, fingers curling, and he answered with a quiet hum that vibrated against your skin, steady, as though relearning you by touch alone.
A low groan rumbled from his chest as he pressed closer, greedy for more of you, each movement deeper and rougher with need.
“You still taste sweet,” he murmured, the words lost between deliberate strokes of his tongue.
The sound of his voice sent a sharp flutter through your stomach. You clenched your fingers in his hair, biting down a gasp as heat bloomed in every nerve. Every flick of his tongue felt like he was savoring you, unhurried but insistent—driving you steadily, mercilessly, toward the edge.
He devoured you like he’d been starving for it, every breath he took filled with your scent, every sound you made fueling him further. His tongue moved with purpose, circling and flicking against you before sealing his lips around your clit, drawing a broken sound from your throat.
One hand gripped your thigh to steady you while the other slid back between your legs, his fingers moving in rhythm with his mouth—slow at first, then faster as he felt you tremble. You clenched around him hard, the tension building until it almost hurt. The sharp tug of your fingers in his hair pulled a guttural sound from him, rough and needy, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he moved with more urgency, intent on pulling you apart completely, on tasting every second of your unraveling.
“Kenshi—” his name left your lips like a plea, your voice breaking as his rhythm refused to falter. Every drag of his tongue, every curl of his fingers sent your nerves sparking, coiling tighter until you were trembling against him.
“Please,” you gasped, breath catching. “So close—”
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against you as he shifted, angling his hand until his fingers found that spot inside you. The sharp, perfect pressure had you coming undone. Your body tightened, clenching hard around him as heat crashed through you. You couldn’t stop the sounds that tore from your throat, his name falling again and again like a prayer.
Kenshi slowed gradually, the movement of his tongue turning soft—his hands steadying you as you shook. He stayed there a moment longer, drawing out every shiver, every aftershock, before finally pulling back just enough to breathe, his lips and chin slick with your release.
The intercom crackled to life, its static slicing through the heavy quiet.
“Apologies for the inconvenience,” came a muffled voice, “the elevator should resume in a few seconds.”
Just like that, the spell broke. Kenshi exhaled slowly, then moved with calm efficiency—helping you pull your clothes and weapons back into place while you were still catching your breath. His fingers brushed against your hips one last time before he stood, composed as ever.
The elevator shuddered, humming back to life. You leaned against the wall, still flushed, still breathless from your high. As he straightened his uniform, you caught his wrist and tugged him down to you, kissing him rough and fast—more gratitude than tenderness.
“Thanks,” you murmured, a small smirk curving your lips.
He hadn’t expected the quick drag of your hand across his still-hard length, and it earned you a quiet, choked laugh. His head tilted slightly, that faint smirk returning.
“No problem,” he murmured, voice low. “Glad I got to taste you again.”
You chuckled softly and wiped a smear of slick from his chin with your thumb. The elevator dinged, announcing your floor.
“Still mad?” he asked, the tease in his tone unmistakable.
You stepped out as the doors opened, glancing back over your shoulder with a grin that promised trouble.
“Oh, furious,” you said. “Maybe you can help me manage it later.”
Kenshi smiled—slow, knowing, dangerous. Neither of you said anything else.
༊ ─ · · mdni ˋˏ˗ these were some notes i made on Liu Kang from my series "bare" a while ago, i thought i'd expand upon them a bit and share ᵎᵎ
Liu Kang is so unbelievably desperate for you that he feels like he's going insane but thankfully, he has the self control of a God… literally. The things he thinks when he looks at you are so depraved he feels guilty about how hard he gets just from the way you call his name.
He's in love with the noises you make in bed, loves everything you do when he fucks you. So worked up at the thought of having you, he has to remember to choose his openings very carefully. He doesn't want to mess up by picking a poor moment to try and stuff you oh so full.
So touch starved for so long before you that he hadn't even realised that he felt that way, being touched by you and being able to touch you making his skin burn even hotter than usual. Wanting to take full advantage of the fact that you like his hands on you as often as he can.
Skin tingling and jaw clenching when he watches you from afar, the desire to hold you, to have his fingers digging into your soft skin the only thing he's able to think about. To him, you are terribly distracting, a distraction he welcome wholly.
When he's touching you, his heart rate spikes in a way it never does, eyes and thoughts a little lost. You're so reactive, so sensitive, something he never forgets because it's a fact he absolutely adores about you.
He can't help but play with you a little bit, the way your eyes glaze letting him know just how fucked he's got you. The little shivers of pleasure that wrack your form always has his cock twitching for you.
If he were being more honest with himself, he might be able to recognise that he loves ruining you like this because he loves to see physical proof of you being just as effected by him as he is by you.
Kenshi is so cruel as he fucks into you harshly, thrusts so perfectly calculated that you’re going insane. Getting close for what feels like the billionth time, his cock head reaching so deep inside you that you can’t catch your breath. Head rolling back as your eyes struggle to stay open.
“You gotta stay with me, princess,” a sharp thrust jolting you, gaining your attention again.
“Let me– hnn– let me cum– ah!– please,” voice pitchy and cracking as you beg him for release.
A wicked chuckle leaving him, his intentions made so clear with the evil grin on his face. Your pussy is throbbing around him, asking so nicely for him to be kind to you. “If you wanna cum so bad,” his hips pulling back, dragging the heavy weight of his cock from your tight heat, “then show me how it’s done.”
“What? No,” lower lip wobbling, “why, why?” feeling so pathetic in your desperation for him.
“Hmm,” his palms hold your thighs so wide for his greedy gaze, “well, I’ve clearly not done it right, so show me how it’s done.”
You’re cursing him inside your head, he knew exactly what he was doing. If he really wanted to he could’ve made you cum ten times over by now, he simply delights in your neediness.
“Will you fuck me after?”
“Maybe,” he coos, “if you do a good job.”
Pouting back at him, too fucked to be properly annoyed with him. Shaky hand wandering down to your cunt without further protest. A small gasp slipping from you at just how wet you are, fingers slipping through your folds with embarrassing ease.
“Feel how dripping wet you are?” he purrs, “Should be easy for you to cum then shouldn’t it?”
Digits sliding over your clit desperately, back bowing and insides twisting. So worked up that your own touch is electric but nowhere near enough, not after being stuffed so full.
“Not enough– hnn– it’s not enough,” tears slipping from your eyes, giving him your best begging look. Hoping for mercy, hoping that he’s in a giving enough mood to help.
“That’s a shame,” he tuts at you, “‘cause this is a good view.”
“Kenshi–”
“Alright, alright,” he grins, loving how needy you are right now, “I’ll help you.”
Guiding himself back to your drooling hole and slamming inside all at once. The shock and sudden fullness knocking the breath out of your lungs, hands flying to grip hold of him. Your orgasm making you whine and shake under him, eyes in the back of your skull as you finally get to cum. Sensation so overwhelming that you’re in complete bliss, intense pleasure thrumming through your veins after being denied for so long.
“Thank you, thank you– ah!– thank you,” words rushed and voice cracking. Feeling so thankful to the man that was the cause of your torment.
“You’re so welcome,” his thrusts not stopping, “now get ready for more.”
Kenshi’s tone is dark and promising, he’s going to have you cumming so much more now. The edging was just the beginning of the evening…
・・・☆・mdni・smut・in my missing him hours... i just think bi-han would love skin contact
Bi-Han’s weight is pressing you into the mattress from above, his heavy breaths by your ear. His hips giving slow but forceful thrusts, purposefully teasing against all your favourite spots. It’s so incredibly intimate how close he is to you, abs rubbing against your back.
It’s so overwhelmingly good that you want to crawl away from him but he’s so big on top of you that you’re not moving a single inch from under him.
Whining out weakly to him, “Bi-Han, you’re to–too heavy– hnn–”
“Shut up,” his voice gruff and almost as ruined as yours, “just be good for me and keep taking it like this.”
Teeth nipping against your ear lobe, arms on top of yours and tucking in closer. Lewd and wet sounds of him fucking your cunt sloppy and despite how embarrassed you feel, your hole is gripping him tighter, swallowing him in desperately.
You’re a mess, throbbing and itching for it, trying to bounce your hips back onto him but still his heavy body and weighted thrusts keep you pinned. The fact you can only take it is driving you wild, it’s slow and precise and it has you melting for him.
“You really like it right here, huh?” he mumbles low right as he fucks into a spot that has your eyes rolling and mouth dropping in a moan, a soft amused but turned on chuckle leaving him.
You’re gripping him so tight that he feels insane, breathing heavy as he tries to keep his pace steady and strong, fighting every urge to fuck you hard and fast. Spine shuddering as your eyes glisten with unshed tears, all pretty and fucked out for him. It’s endearing to him, how you’re drooling onto the pillow below from how good he’s making you feel.
Voice stuttered and so completely ruined when you whine out to him, “Bi-Han– ah!– I’m gonna c–”
“–Go on, cum as much as you want,” his lips press to your temple, “cause I’m not done fucking you until you can’t form a single word.”
