Mortal Kombat X Reader Lemons

Hitodama ☆ Hanzo Hasashi

(FtM!Reader for Dutch Ass.)

The blood-hued leaves decorate the cobblestones as Grandmaster Hasashi steps into the Fire Gardens, late into the night. Silently, he watches as you plant strike after strike to a training dummy. You huff out a breath, your lungs straining and buring against your bindings as you hit the dummy, skill and strategy out of the window as rage clouds your vision. You beat the straw dummy with your bamboo sword over and over again. In the moonlight, tears litter the ground and glitter on the stone. Your callused palms are sore against the bamboo and the joints of your fingers are stiff.

You gasp and freeze as gloved hands slide across your shoulders. You fall to your knees, sobbing as you throw your bamboo sword to the other side of the courtyard. The Grandmaster rounds your body, holding onto your shoulders as he tries to study where you're hurt. No physical damage. He holds you close, his strong arms wrapping around your shaking shoulders as you cry into his robes. When you gain the courage, you look up into his dark eyes, kind yet concerned. No words. No words or he will leave. Shirai Ryu protocol. Student and Grandmaster. No words. No words, please. His lips claim your own and you melt against him, aching hands cupping his cheeks as you hold him to you. He takes your hand and rises to his feet, leading you to a large maple tree in the centre of the garden.

Hanzo lays you against the trunk, brushing hair from your eyes as his hands move down, parting your robes to expose your underwear. Nimble fingers dispense with your bindings, allowing you to take in a full breath and let out a shaky sigh. Gentle hands run down your sternum, pulling the bindings away fully. With your arms darting to cover your naked chest, he grasps your wrists and places kisses to your shoulders. The moonlight shades your body in the silhouettes of the falling leaves. On a canvas of scabs and bruises, Hanzo's rough hands handle you gently, pulling your boxer-briefs down your thighs and off your legs. Naked under the shade of the maple tree, your lip quivers as Hanzo takes in the sight of the body that makes you so upset.

Hanzo's dark eyes are curious but searching for your consent before going any further. Sheepishly, you nod and he kisses you again, fingers drawing patterns against your skin. He whispers something barely audible and your eyes widen but he continues, kneeling between your legs and leaning down.
"Focus on me." He breathes and you can feel his words against your inner thigh. His lips seal around the mound of your clit and you sob quietly, Hanzo's hands holding your own as his tongue plays with your clit, drawing it from under the hood. His tongue is hot and wet against your skin, fingers drawing soft patterns against your inner thighs as you watch him though puffy eyes. He draws the flat of his tongue over the bundle of nerves and you shudder, reaching down to pull his hair from the bun at the back of his head. His skin is dappled in the shadows of the leaves, his eyes still gazing up at you, gauging your reaction. When you bite the inside of your mouth and have to repress a loud groan, he eases his lips from you.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Hanzo runs his palms up your thighs, breathing heavily at the softness of your skin, compared to your hands. When he leans down to place kisses along your throat, he pressed the head of his cock against your inner thigh, letting you feel its heat and smearing precome against your skin.
"Do you want this...?" He whispers breathlessly and you cup his cheek, running your thumb over his beard. Tears well in your eyes. Anything inserted into you from there reminds you of yourself, your disappointment of a body, the body you hate him to look at. You wince and try not to cry but he understands. He kisses you again and nods before traipsing back down. A soft groan leaves you as he sucks at your clit again, tongue flicking at it as he runs his hands up your thighs, praising your skin where he finds it. If you close your eyes and hold his hand, maybe you can imagine a time where you didn't think like this, a time when you would've been more than happy for him to stake his claim and slide his cock into your warm body. But, no, he has his lips wrapped around you and his nose pressed to your groin, licking and sucking like a starving man.

Hanzo doesn't know from experience but he understands you're in pain. He understands that you wish to cut off the parts of yourself that you hate and spread your blood on the cobblestones, staining them red, like the maple leaves. But if he can do things like this, that stop those thoughts, even for a moment, he'll do them.

Your fingers move to twine into Hanzo's hair, holding his head in place as he sucks your clit through his teeth over and over, gently rolling the bud over his jaw and making you whine. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he flicks his tongue over you one, last time. Your mind goes empty and you gasp out his name as he helps you ride through your orgasm. Soon, though, his mouth is torture on your skin, making you leap under him and shiver. He removes his mouth then, sitting up. Hanzo moves to replace your robes and you let him, fastening them in place before ascending to kiss you. Feeling sated and all too affectionate, you take his hand and he leads you into his quarters.

You take one last look at the Fire Gardens, beautiful with the blood-red leaves scattered across the cobblestones. The gentle bells in the wind, the soft sound of deer scares. Your fingers tighten around his hand. This is home. Here, with him. No matter what happens, you always have the Fire Gardens. You always have Hanzo.