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sutorus · 1 year ago

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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea.

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class.

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests.

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago.

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew.

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way.

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study.

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats.

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention.

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met.

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do.

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin.

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn.

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa.

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you.

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager.

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around.

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat.

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him.

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features.

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with.

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too.

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you.

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever.

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation.

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath.

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew.

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused.

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later.

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol.

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression.

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes.

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to.

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight.

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff.

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants.

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it.

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life.

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible.

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip.

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva.

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him.

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy.

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat.

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.”

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs.

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him.

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.”

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again.

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth.

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs.

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants.

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory.

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him.

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years.

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of.

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together.

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours.

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth.

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you.

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him.

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself.

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck.

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him.

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad.

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer.

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit.

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him.

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust.

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer.

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip.

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?”

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you.

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now.

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you.

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?”

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.”

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house.

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice.

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it.

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words.

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast.

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck.

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you.

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass.

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa.

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you.

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it.

toji finally addresses you.

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks.

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

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Your Friend Steve

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: it’s finally me and you, and you and me … just us, and your friend Charles

r/relationshipadvice

u/yourusername · 9h

My boyfriend (26M) and I (22F) cannot get a second alone!

The two of us have been together for a few years now. We met through mutual friends and really hit it off. He’s caring, thoughtful, and we have the best time together.

The issue is ... his best friend (26M) is ALWAYS around. And I mean always. We’ll be out to dinner and bestie will show up and pull up a chair. We’ll be cuddling on the couch watching Netflix and he’ll let himself in with the spare key and wedge between us. I swear this guy is like an overeager puppy sometimes.

The other day I came home with my boyfriend and bestie was there ... sleeping on MY side of the bed because he “got lonely” at his place. And don’t get me started on trying to plan a vacation for just the two of us. Without fail, bestie always finds out where we are and shows up.

I’m happy they’re so close and I’d never want to get between them or ask my boyfriend to pick. But his best friend is starting to feel like a third wheel in our relationship. I jokingly said to my boyfriend that at this rate, bestie will be part of our engagement and marriage too!

I could really use some outside advice. How do I kindly set some boundaries with my boyfriend’s overly-attached best friend? I want all of us to still be friends but the constant third-wheeling is getting to be a bit much.

u/relationshipguru123 · 8h

Wow, this sounds really annoying and awkward! Hate to say it but your boyfriend needs to step up and set some better boundaries with his friend. As close as they may be, it’s not ok for him to let his friend crash your alone time constantly. It’s disrespectful to you and your relationship. If your bf won’t address it, you’ll have to be the “bad guy” and talk to the friend directly to give him a reality check.

u/NeedMoreSpace · 7h

I feel you, OP! My sister deals with this with her husband’s best friend too. They even joked that the friend would be IN the delivery room when they have kids one day 😳 She finally sat down with her husband and told him that while she cares about the friend, she needs some lines drawn for their marriage’s sake. Maybe suggest setting one or two date nights a week that are just for you two? And no dropping in unannounced! Compromise is key.

u/BFFboundaries · 5h

This behavior would drive me CRAZY! You need to put your foot down with your bf and tell him his friend’s constant presence is affecting your relationship. Then talk to the friend together to make it clear you just need some alone time as a couple sometimes. If they don’t respect reasonable space, it will breed resentment.

r/relationships

u/DutchLion · 5h

Help! My best friend (26M) is cockblocking me without even realizing it!

I (26M) have been together with my girlfriend (22F) for a few years. She’s awesome — fun, hilarious, and crazy sexy. She puts up with my quirks and even likes watching sports with me. Absolute keeper!

The problem is, my best friend has NO boundaries. I love him like a brother but he has zero concept of personal space or alone time.

Just last night, my girl and I were enjoying some long overdue freaky time together, when who bursts through the bedroom door unannounced? Yep, my best friend. Turns out he “accidentally” made copies of my keys ages ago.

Before I can react, he’s jumped onto the bed between us asking what we’re up to. My girlfriend was mortified and hurried to cover up. There went the mood for the rest of the night thanks to Captain Cockblock!

That’s just the latest in a long string of intrusions. Double dates, surprise sleepovers in OUR bed, you name it. I’m going to have to lock down the apartment Fort Knox style to get any intimacy!

Don’t get me wrong, I would take a bullet for my best friend. But how do I politely tell him that constant third-wheeling is killing my game and giving me the most painful blue balls known to man? Is there a tactful way to set some boundaries so we BOTH stay sane and satisfied?

u/CantUnseeThat · 4h

Dude, I felt awkward just READING this! Major props to your girlfriend for being so chill. You gotta have a talk with your boy and set some hard lines. A real best friend would respect that your relationship needs privacy too.

u/Locks4aReason · 3h

Your friend needs better boundaries yesterday. Sit him down, tell him you get he’s lonely but he can’t just walk in whenever, especially when sexy times are happening! Maybe suggest setting him up on some dates so he finds fulfillments elsewhere.

u/needabroboundary · 3h

As much as you love your best friend, your personal life with your lady should be a priority over letting him run wild! Have a man-to-man talk and make it clear you just need some couple time a few days a week. Offer to schedule some designated bro time to keep that bond too. Gotta compromise.

u/needspace321 · 2h

Don’t feel bad about setting some hard boundaries, even if it bruises his ego at first. True friends will understand. Explain you just need some regular alone time with your gf. Offer a standing weekly bro night to keep the friendship intact too. You need to have that balance!

r/AmItheAsshole

u/PrinceOfMonaco · 3h

AITA for wanting to spend time with my best friend and his girlfriend?

Some background �� my friend (let’s call him M) and I go way back to childhood. We’re basically as close as brothers. A few years ago he started dating his now serious girlfriend (we’ll call her Y).

Initially, I’ll admit I was worried M would drift away and our bromance would fade. But much to my delight, Y is awesome! She likes the same sports, laughs at my jokes, and comes to watch our competitions. Honestly it feels like I gained a sister!

Naturally, the three of us started hanging out constantly. I know me and M have always valued bro time together. But now Y joins our gaming sessions, I ride along on their date nights often, and I will even crash in their guest room after late nights! It’s been pretty great.

Or so I thought? Lately I’ve noticed them acting strange and tense around me. They barely react when I barge into their room or surprise them by their cars after work. Sometimes they pretend to be “busy” if I try making plans last minute.

I can’t figure out why though? Just the other day, I popped by to say hi only to have M rather sternly tell me I should “call before visiting from now on.” And I could swear I heard Y whisper about needing “boundaries” … whatever that means!

I’m starting to feel hurt they suddenly seem fed up with me! AITA here? Am I missing something? Someone help me decode these mixed signals!

u/needboundaries101 · 3h

YTA. I know you value your friendship but your total lack of boundaries is overbearing. Your friend is trying to set reasonable limits without damaging the friendship but you’re oblivious to all hints. Surprising them and inviting yourself along all the time is inconsiderate. Give them space!

u/respectrelationships · 3h

Soft YTA. I get you cherish the bromance and her friendship too. But constantly crashing date nights, unannounced visits, etc is cockblocking to the max! They likely feel too awkward to bluntly tell you that they need alone time too sometimes. Tone down the clinginess before you do permanent damage!

u/flying_solo · 2h

NAH but only because you seem genuinely unaware your behavior is an issue! Most people would have picked up on the hints by now. You should DEFINITELY be calling ahead before visits or tagging along to closed plans. Give them a chance to say no thanks. Gotta let your bro spread his wings too.

u/threesacrowd · 2h

YTA. You would lose your mind if your best friend was this invasive during your dates! When they make excuses or leave early, that’s NOT an invitation to join them unasked and uninvited next time! They’re just too polite to be harsh so I’ll spell it out — you have to give them personal alone time without taking offense.

charles_leclerc

Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 1,273,948 others

charles_leclerc happy third anniversary to my favorite couple ❤️

View all 3,085 comments

maxverstappen1 thanks, mate!

charles_leclerc i’m going to pick up some dinner from that italian place we all like and i should be at your place in around 20 minutes

yourusername we really appreciate that, charlie. but you know … it’s our anniversary and we would like to celebrate alone

charles_leclerc i totally understand! that’s why i’m taking the food to go so we can celebrate alone with just the three of us

maxverstappen1 yeah but we want to ✨celebrate✨ you get me?

charles_leclerc you want me to stop and buy some sparklers?

yourusername what we’re trying to say is that we want to celebrate … in bed

charles_leclerc even better! your mattress is so comfortable and we can put some netflix on while we have a sleepover together

landonorris they’re literally spelling it out for you in black and white 💀

pierregasly mon ami, they’re trying to say they need some adult time tonight 😏 maybe skip the visit this once

danielricciardo how do i say this nicely … max and y/n are clearly desperate for uh, anniversary cuddles without you as the little spoon!

lewishamilton someone rescue my man charles from himself before it’s too late. praying the two lovebirds to get to celebrate properly tonight 😉

charles_leclerc of course we will all celebrate properly! i have champagne

roscoelovescoco read’s the room’s 🙄

f1wagupdates i can’t tell if charles is trolling them or if he genuinely doesn’t get it 😭

charles_leclerc what is there to get?

yourusername i give up 🤦‍♀️

yourusername … what flavor popcorn do you want for our sleepover?

charles_leclerc white cheddar, please!

3K notes · View notes

lloydskywalkers · 3 months ago

Text

three sword style

Or, Lloyd and his evolving relationship with what it means to choose a weapon, as supervised by Kai. listen I know Wu technically gives them all their new weapons in season 11 according to some random book referenced in the ninjago wiki (or at least Lloyd’s sword) but you know who ACTUALLY has a degree in making weapons and canonically has made a golden sword SO. My canon now. (also spot the brain rot I infected myself with in the title)

Lloyd grows up in a world of weaponry and at the speed of light.

There are worse ways to grow up, maybe. There are also better ones — one where kids get to grow up instead blasting into teenager-hood in the span of seconds — but Lloyd doesn’t like to complain about where he’s ended up.

Second to the speed of light thing, though, the weapons part is pretty big.

Weapons determine the single biggest turning point in his life, after all. It’s the Golden Weapons that make him the Green Ninja, a title that’s a lot more important than Lloyd’s ever been. It’s also that particular title that makes Lloyd the weapon, so that’s fun. Ninjago’s prophesied emergency failsafe, the Green Ninja — that’s him.

On a nicer note, it’s the Fangblade that gets him a big brother, and proves that there’s someone out there who cares about Lloyd over some stupid weapon, so hah.

Getting back to the point, though—

Weapons. Lloyd’s been making do without one, and he’s been making pretty good do, thank you very much. He’s got his power, and he’s got himself. That’s all the weapon Lloyd needs.

But no one else seems to agree, and since ninety percent of the time whatever prophecy-of-doom crops up this month involves cursed weaponry of some sort, they all figure it’s a good a reason as any to stick Lloyd with a reliable weapon.

And while wielding all the elements is one thing, wielding every kind of weapon at once would be kind of difficult, even for his dad.

So Lloyd finally gets an actual, for-real, decision that he gets to make all by himself.

It’s a monumentous occasion — and yes, that is a word, Nya, Lloyd knows some stuff — so if Lloyd was smart he’d treasure it and take his time.

With that in mind, it takes all of thirty seconds for Lloyd to choose. This is only mildly insulting to some parties.

“Fine, sure, go with the most basic pick in the world,” Jay scoffs. “Swords. Boring.”

“Sounds like you’re just jealous,” Kai shoots back.

“Jealous of swords? Please. I just thought Lloyd was a little more creative than that.”

“I like swords,” Lloyd says, at a loss.

“Jay is only relieved that no one will one-up his nunchuck expertise, now,” Zane smiles.

Jay sputters indignantly. “No one’s one-upping me, I’m the best there is!”

“Uh-huh,” Cole shakes his head. “Well, if that’s what Lloyd wants, that’s the end of it.” His mouth quirks. “Means more training time for Kai, anyways.”

“More training to be better than you,” Kai retorts.

“Like the rest of you, Lloyd will continue to work toward mastering at least the basics of any weapon,” Sensei Wu sighs. “A ninja confined to one weapon alone—”

“Is a dead ninja,” Jay nods.

Sensei Wu cuts his eyes at him. “That is not how I was going to finish.”

“The point stands though, right?”

“The point,” Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is that while Lloyd will continue to train with all of you, focusing on swordsmanship will become the priority. So yes, in a way. More training for Kai.”

Lloyd rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry…?”

“Why are you sorry?” Kai beams, more proud than smug. “I finally get an official katana apprentice. We’re gonna be awesome.”

And that alone, Lloyd thinks, makes it worth all the complaining.

“Great,” Jay throws his arms up. “Now we’re stuck with two slice ‘em dice ‘em ninjas.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Cole says. “It’s Kai, how dangerous can he be.”

“I resent that,” Kai says. “Just because you beat me once or twice—”

“Try thirteen times, and counting.”

“—it does not mean I’m not as dangerous as you,” Kai narrows his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Wanna prove it?”

“Bring it on, rock man.”

“Not in the kitchen, for FSM’s sake—“

Whether or not Cole beats him (which he does, pretty badly, because Cole is kinda terrifying like that) Lloyd knows that to some degree, Kai is dangerous. Very dangerous, with or without his swords.

It’s hard to think of Kai like that, though. When Lloyd thinks of Kai, he thinks of warm arms wrapped tight around him in the Fire Temple. Thinks of the first hugs he’s gotten from someone other than his father that felt like home. Thinks of protection — thinks safe. Thinks family.

He’s wanted to be like Kai for a while, now. So yeah. It’s an easy choice.

Plus, swords are way cool.

______

Kai starts training him in Dareth’s dojo. It takes about a week for them to get banished to the roof of their apartment, which is mostly Lloyd’s fault — but Kai’s the one supposed to be teaching him, so he can take the blame this time.

…well, maybe Lloyd’s the one who keeps losing his grip on the katana, but that’s not quite his fault, either.

Kai is better than basically any swordsman on this side of Ninjago in years, if not all Ninjago. Lloyd knows this because Uncle Wu told him so, and because Kai wipes the floor with him the first, second, and twenty-ninth time they spar.

“The point is to keep your grip on the katana, you know,” Kai says, as Lloyd retrieves his sword from where it went flying (again). “What kind of hold it that supposed to be, butterfingers deluxe?”

“You said not to grip it too tight,” Lloyd complains.

Kai rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you had it in a death hold. I didn’t say, ‘let go and let it fly’.”

“I didn’t let it fly, you knocked it out of my hand!”

“Aha, so you’re admitting I won. Again.”

“N-no!” Lloyd protests. “I’m just warming up. I’ll show you this time.”

But as Kai takes his stance again, his own katana held with a kind of grace Lloyd has zero idea how to ever accomplish, Lloyd thinks he might be a bit of a lost cause.

It’s difficult, because every time he goes to swing his sword, his power thrums in his blood, in his hands, always ready to lash out. It’s quickly become a habit, to start every fight slinging green blasts around. Lloyd’s already grown fond of the little bell-like sounds his power makes, the steady pulse as bright green builds in his palms.

Lloyd is the Green Ninja, after all. His power is what makes him, well, him. He’s his own best weapon — he’s the one the prophecy needs to make things right.

Kai keeps putting weapons in his hands, anyways.

Training katanas, mostly. He got to hold the Sword of Fire once, before his dad took it. It was beautiful — Lloyd kinda gets why Kai’s so up in arms about it getting stolen.

That and the whole don’t-give-Garmadon-the-Golden-Weapons thing.

Kai seems confused that Lloyd remembers it, which is weird because the Golden Weapons are kind of a big deal, but Lloyd decides to chalk it up to all the other weirdness in his life.

The first true katana Kai ever gives Lloyd is…not quite as cool as the Sword of Fire, and definitely not as beautiful, but in a way that Lloyd likes.

“We’re kinda short on weapons,” Kai admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I don’t exactly have access to smithing equipment right now, which means you’re stuck with one of my old ones. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Lloyd adjusts his hands around the hilt, taking an experimental swing. “This is a great sword!”

“Yeah, okay, liar — and don’t swing it around like that, you look like you’re waving a pool noodle.”

Kai grabs his hands, forcing Lloyd’s arms to hold steady.

“Like this, okay?” Kai says. “We’re gonna start by practicing single movements.”

“Aw,” Lloyd visibly wilts. “More katas? I thought I was gonna get to learn some cool moves.”

“This is a cool move. If you’re good, you finish things in one hit,” Kai says. “One strike, and the fight’s over.”

“Like a headshot,” Lloyd nods.

“No,” Kai rolls his eyes. “This is not a video game. This is a real sword, and you’re going to learn to use it right.”

“And then we can do the cool moves?”

Kai narrows his eyes. “Do your katas or I’m firing you.”

Lloyd sticks his tongue out at him. “You can’t fire me. I’m the Green Ninja.”

“Yeah? I’ll demote you to Green Washer-of-Dishes for the rest of the month.”

“No! You can’t, Nya and I have a deal!”

Jokes aside, Lloyd is sure to remind Kai, as he scrubs dishes and Kai dries them, that he does take training seriously.

He takes all his training seriously. It’s kind of his only job.

Lloyd practices hits until his knuckles split and scab, masters high kicks with shins colored violent blues and purples, forms green starbursts in his hands until his fingers crack and bleed.

When his palms blister from the sword hilt on top of it all, Kai makes him hold still until he’s wrapped the first-aid bandage around his hands at least five times, then shoves his old gloves on him when he starts to form calluses.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t need them, but Lloyd still wears the gloves everyday and tucks them away each night, storing them with the other few, treasured things he’s been gifted.

______

The longer he trains with swords, the more Lloyd gains calluses and nicked fingers and perpetually smells a little like cloves.

That last part Lloyd enjoys, though he’ll never admit it. He’s not about to go and tell people he enjoys cleaning stuff, no thanks.

But there’s something nice about helping Kai take care of the katanas, in a relaxing sort of way. The wood-smoke tang of cloves smells like home, which Lloyd treasures, because home isn’t something he’s very used to.

Treasures is probably an understatement. Lloyd latches onto it like he’s starving. Part of it’s because this is something he gets to have with Kai, all by himself. He’s never had something like that before, either — a special thing that’s shared just with him.

Well, maybe besides the green gi, but the Green Ninja is something that belongs to everyone. Whatever Lloyd does when he puts the green gi on is everyone’s business, since it determines the fate of the world or something like that, and it doesn’t really even feel like his. Not yet, at least.

But sitting cross-legged in the weapons room while Kai teaches him how to clean katanas without damaging them — that belongs to Lloyd.

He learns a lot with it too, because Kai always starts rambling about ten minutes in — not the confident, cocky way he does sometimes in front of everyone else, but in an honest way that Lloyd isn’t entirely sure he even means to be.

“—not the best oil, but it works when you’re in a pinch. S’what my parents left behind, at the shop, so it’s good enough.”

Lloyd looks up at him, curious. He keeps quiet — Kai and Nya don’t talk much about their parents, if at all. Lloyd gets it, of course, but it makes the little tidbits they share valuable.

“I don’t remember a lot about my parents,” Kai continues. “But I remember some things. About my dad. He was a great smith, I know that much. Could make about anything. Swords were his favorite, though.”

Uncle Wu’s candlelight casts Kai’s eyes with a glow that makes it seem like he’s on fire himself, flickering and fading. He looks very far away, all of the sudden, and Lloyd has the urge to grab for his arm and make him stay here.

“Guess I latched onto that,” Kai smiles ruefully, and he’s back again. “Never could reach his level, but I learned how to make an okay sword.”

Lloyd chews on his lip. He knows all about latching on to your parents — wanting to be great at the things they are.

That maybe, if you’re good enough, they’ll be proud enough to come back.

He doesn’t think that’s a happy thing to say, though, so he tells Kai instead, “I think your swords are great.”

Kai’s lips quirk. “Uh-huh. Then you better treat them like it.”

“I do,” Lloyd protests. He gestures at the katana across his lap. “See? I did it perfect this time.”

Kai nods his head at a spot Lloyd noticeably missed. He flushes.

“Almost perfect.”

“Practice, young student,” Kai says, in a gravely voice that’s probably supposed to sound like Uncle Wu. “A thousand hours of practice for you.”

“Ugh,” Lloyd groans. “All I do is practice. Practice practice practice, and then I’m still not enou—”

He cuts off. Oops. Maybe Kai’s honestly is a little too contagious.

Kai goes quiet, hands stilling on the katana. There’s a deep furrow between his eyes as he stares at Lloyd, in a way that makes him feel a little like a bug under a microscope. Or that Kai can see right through him, which is bad, because all Lloyd’s got in him is a bunch of tangled thoughts and worries and nothing an actual ninja should have.

“You know,” he says, carefully. “We probably need to stock up on the good oil. I’m kinda running low.”

Lloyd knows darn well Kai has enough choji oil to get them through an apocalypse.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “If we go now, we can probably hit the convenience store, too. Get a sugar boost before—”

“I’m in!” Lloyd shoots to his feet before he can stop himself, any protests forgotten. Training has included a healthy diet lately, so Lloyd doesn’t collapse and pass out because his blood’s eighty percent sugar — Zane’s words, not his.

If he needs to get his blood sugar up, why can’t he just eat sugar all the time? It makes no sense.

“Do not tell the others,” Kai hisses, as they make their way into the city. “Especially Cole, if you don’t wanna lose your sweets before you can take a bite. We’re just getting polish for katanas, as far as you know.”

“I know nothing,” Lloyd says obediently. “Hey, do you think we could use olive oil on the katanas?”

Kai’s stare could heat iron. “I’ll kill you.”

“It was a joke! A joke, heh.”

______

For all that Lloyd’s life revolves around training to defeat anyone and everyone, the guys are still weirdly protective. Over anyone and everyone, including Lloyd himself.

“C’mon, I can handle the cool attacks,” Lloyd complains, as Kai drags him into place.

“They’re not cool — okay, they’re kinda cool — but that’s not what we’re learning now,” Kai sighs. “You’re learning Aikido. Well, a form of it, technically. It’s focused on defending yourself, but in a way that lessens the chances of injuring your attacker.”

Lloyd frowns. “Isn’t that counterintoo — counterintuitive?”

“Big words today,” Kai mutters. He shakes his head. “And it’s counterproductive, by the way, but — no, because now that we’re training, half your attackers are us, and I’d like to leave practice with my arms intact.”

Lloyd grins. “So you’re admitting I’m better than you.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Kai says pointedly.

“Don’t need to. You’ve already admitted defeat.”

“And, brat—” Lloyd yelps as Kai digs his knuckles into his hair. “Defending yourself is incredibly important.”

As they settle back into position, Kai pauses, a muscle in his jaw working. He looks as if he’s having an internal argument with himself, before finally sighing.

“The thing about any weapon, but especially swords,” he says, correcting Lloyd’s grip on the katana. “Is that they can be used a lot of ways. But the one thing you never, ever want to forget—”

And Kai’s tone grows serious, his jaw tensing again. “Is that they can kill.”

Lloyd looks down, to the sharp edges of the blade. It suddenly feels a bit heavier, and the room just a bit darker.

“The way we’re training you, the way we were trained, we don’t always — we try to avoid it.” Kai’s voice wavers, and for a moment, Lloyd remembers that Kai isn’t all that much older than he is.

Well, now, especially.

“But sometimes, it’s…you don’t really…well.” He lets out a breath. “This is a sword. It can take a life really quick, if you aren’t careful. And sometimes, you don’t get the choice to be careful or not.”

Lloyd swallows. He hasn’t thought about it much — hasn’t wanted to, but it lives in his mind like a terrible itch he can’t get rid of.

He’s no stranger to the idea of killing someone. Darkley’s was blunt as it was cold. But as a ninja, it’s suddenly realer than it ever was in school.

As the Green Ninja, with his destiny drawn out in front of him, it’s pretty much unavoidable.

He’s going to kill his father, or he’s going to die.

Kai’s hands grab tight around his shoulders. “We’re gonna do everything we can to make sure you don’t end up in that situation, okay?” He gives Lloyd a small, strained smile. “Don’t ever feel like you have to change who you are, just ‘cause you’re a ninja now.”

How do you know who I am, Lloyd wants to ask. How do you know I’m not a murderer? How do you know I’m not awful?

Kai’s eyes are impossibly kind and far, far too knowing.

“But,” and his tone grows serious again. “If it’s your life or theirs.”

Lloyd feels a bit like the oxygen’s been sucked out of the room.

“Promise me. You have to promise — you will always, always choose your own.”

Lloyd stares back. Kai gives him a little shake.

“You promise me?”

Finally, as if moved by puppet strings, Lloyd nods.

“I promise,” he rasps.

Kai looks relieved, but it’s not quite in a happy way. “As long as you come back alive, that’s what matters. I don’t care what else happens — you come back alive, and we’re good.”

“Okay,” Lloyd says. His eyes feel wet. It’s strange, someone caring so much about something like that.

“Which is why,” Kai says, finally stepping back as his tone lightens. “You’re gonna nail that block this time. Or I’m making you polish every weapon in the dojo again.”

“Oh, no,” Lloyd stares at him in horror. “I’ve been practicing that stupid move for hours!”

“And you’ll be cleaning weapons for hours if you don’t get it.”

“You suck,” Lloyd grumbles. “Worst teacher of all time.”

“Uh-huh,” Kai claps him on the back, and Lloyd lets out his own sigh of relief at the lightened atmosphere. “You’re the one that picked swords, buddy.”

______

Kai’s a hypocrite, though, and Lloyd could hate him for it, because as they slide down the snowy mountain-side, Lloyd’s body clashing against his family in ways he’d never, ever let it if he had control, he has to watch as Kai — again — chooses a life other than his own.

Because Kai doesn’t have the experience Morro does, but he’s better with a sword, he’s better than anyone Lloyd knows, and he loses. And Lloyd’s arm drags the Sword of Sanctuary up and Kai is a stupid, stupid, stupid hypocrite—

Lloyd’s angry enough that tearing control back from Morro is easy.

He knows a thing or two about swords himself, and Morro’s holding it wrong, anyways.

______

Training had already taken a hit after they lose Zane, for obvious reasons. Everything had taken a hit after they lost Zane, and between the tournament and Morro and everything else Lloyd’s pointedly ignoring, it’s suddenly been ages since he’s had a proper sword lesson.

Kai decides to make up for it by finally teaching him the fun stuff.

“Don’t — call it that in front of Cole,” Kai grunts over the loud screech of metal on metal. His knee bends, just the slightest tell—

Lloyd falls back, dancing away from Kai’s returning strike. He knows now, just how dangerous Kai can be — he’d like to forget it, but it’d be doing him a disservice.

Besides, Lloyd’s had his body dragged left and right over Ninjago, used as the worst kind of weapon to hurt the people he loves, and they still trust him. Being on the dangerous end of Chen’s stupid staff is nothing to being on the dangerous end of a katana Kai’s made himself, and Lloyd’s determined to hold onto the faith he’s had since that day in the volcano.

Kai won’t hurt him.

He’ll kick his ass in training, though, so Lloyd had better get back with the show.

He retaliates with a feint to the right — too obvious for Kai, but enough to steal his attention for Lloyd to land a high kick to his side.

“Watch that,” Kai scolds, forced two steps backs.

“Why?” Lloyd grins over the edge of Kai’s blade as he catches his blow dead-on. “Scared I’m gonna beat you too soon?”

Kai snorts. “You aren’t beating me at all, shortstack—”

“Not short—”

“And,” Kai’s katana moves so fast Lloyd barely manages to dodge, rolling into a somersault before surging back up to meet his backstrike. “You’re advertising your weak point.”

Lloyd frowns. “S’not a weak point.”

Kai’s katana flashes — Lloyd moves right just before he realizes it’s a feint, cursing himself — then the hilt of his katana is smacking hard against a bone in his right ankle.

There’s a hot flash of pain as his body completely betrays him, his ankle buckling and sending him stumbling with a yelp.

Kai’s expression isn’t gloating, at least. On the downside, he has that sad kind of look that usually means he’s feeling guilty.

“It’s not usually that bad,” he tries, even as his cheeks flare hot.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kai shakes his head. “You need to protect that. Make sure no one knows it’s a weak point but you. Putting it in reach of your opponent is a bad way to do that.”

Lloyd grits his teeth, but he knows Kai’s right. He’ll never regret pushing himself the way he did, clambering up the tower steps on a broken ankle. The fate of Ninjago was a lot heavier on his shoulders than any thoughts of consequences.

It still sucks, that it’ll never heal quite right.

But it isn’t like he’s the only one with an old wound turned weak spot, he reminds himself, as he wraps his aching ankle once again. Jay’s got zig-zagging lightning scars all down his arms that ache during heavy rain. Nya can only rotate her arm so far before her shoulder goes numb, a souvenir from a broken arm. Cole’s the worst, maybe, with how he’s strained himself lifting impossibly heavy weights, fractured fingers and broken bones that throb in the cold.

Kai’s got his own share of weaknesses, though he works hard to hide them. Lloyd’s managed to pick out most — some of them he’s helped treat himself.

He doesn’t like to think about those times, though.

“So I’ve got an idea for a move,” Kai grins at him, once Lloyd’s ankle is stable. “It’s gonna take some timing, but since I don’t have a weak spot there — you’re gonna run and launch.”

Lloyd tilts his head. “Launch off your right ankle?”

“No,” Kai rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna go down for a handspring. When my legs are low, you’re gonna jump on, so when I shoot up—”

“Ooh, I go flying,” Lloyd concludes.

“Exactly.”

“Let’s do it! I’m gonna look so cool—”

“Okay, but we’re gonna look stupid as it gets if we don’t get the — timing, timing!”

It takes about five tries to get it right. That’s all they agree on admitting to — the less said about the forgotten sixth and seventh tries, the better.

But on try eight, Lloyd finally feels his left and right foot connect with Kai’s just as he hits the lowest point of the handspring — and this time, he remembers to bend his own knees and launch up, and with a sudden weightlessness, he’s flying.

“Slash, slash, don’t forget to slash!”

Years of training are the only reason Lloyd’s able to get his arms to obey him fast enough, the wind-up pulling on his shoulders before he sweeps the katana down, slashing out—

“Yes!” Kai’s cheer abruptly turns to a yelp as he loses his balance, crumpling to the floor. Lloyd’s already sprawled across the training mats, since landing was a whole lot harder than he’d planned for — but the training dummy is cut in half. One perfect hit.

“Now, if we can just manage that in an actual fight, we’ll look awesome,” Kai grins.

Lloyd glances at him. “Are you gonna fall flat on your face then, too?”

Red stains his cheeks. “No,” Kai sputters. “That was — you didn’t see that.”

“Uh-huh,” Lloyd snorts. He tilts his head, considering the unfortunate training dummy. “Y’know, I bet I can manage a flip in there,” he mutters.

Kai shrugs. “Yeah, probably.” He lips quirk up. “It’d look pretty cool. Y’know what, let’s go for it. I wanna see the look on Jay’s face when you flip down on him during sparring.”

______

It takes Kai all of ten minutes into the next fight to start regretting that one.

“Got a runner!” Jay calls, as one of the thugs they’ve been rounding up breaks loose from where Zane’s kindly explaining the terms of surrender and Cole’s standing with his lava punch ready to show them what happens if they don’t agree.

“I got ‘im!” Lloyd calls, darting after the masked man.

He tugs his katana free from its sheathe, mind already racing. The time spent on his own, guarding his own back, gave Lloyd the rare opportunity to learn things in ways the guys probably would’ve had his head for.

With the lessons Kai’s drilled into him, the steady form of swordsmanship driven into his nerves, Lloyd’s found a creativity in tweaking things to match his style.

So when the thug sprints past a number of abandoned boxes, scrabbling as he narrowly avoids stumbling on the concrete, Lloyd’s already got the perfect move in mind.

Step, step, jump — tuck in tight, so there’s enough momentum to rotate at least twice — and bam, it’s like a wind-up toy. The more spins he gets in, the harder his landing is, disarming the guy with a perfect slash while kicking his teeth in.

Neat and effective, in Lloyd’s opinion.

Sadly, his opinion is not shared.

Kai sputters. “What was that?”

“Cool as heck, that’s what it was,” Lloyd grins.

Kai is supremely unimpressed. “What did I say about wasting movements?”

Lloyd shuffles. “Don’t…do it?”

“Then why, exactly, did you feel the need to flip three — not one but three — times before striking?”

“Because,” Lloyd says. “It was cool. As heck.”

Kai pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Lloyd valiantly bites back any comments about him taking after Sensei Wu.

“There’s a difference between adding your own flare,” he finally says. “And squandering your energy like a spinning top.”

“Squandering — spinning top—” Lloyd sputters. “Hey, I got the guy just fine, didn’t I? I didn’t squander anything.”

“And what’re you gonna do if someone wises up and snipes you mid-flip?”

“Who’s gonna snipe me, there are no snipers around, dummy—”

“There could be, hypothetically!”

“Hypothetically, please. You’re just jealous ‘cause you can only do two flips—”

“I can do sixteen if I want, I’m just smarter—”

Despite his arguments, Lloyd does resolve to try for restraint. Unfortunately, Lloyd’s also got the memory of a goldfish, so Kai should really know better.

He just can’t help it. The next time they clash with a run-of-the-mill villain who’s stealing secret plans for bombs or whatever ridiculous thing it is that week, Lloyd finds himself on one building with the criminal on the next.

The solution is obvious. Kai doesn’t agree.

“FIVE FLIPS?! THAT WAS A THREE-FOOT DISTANCE!”

Lloyd carefully places the now-unconscious criminal on the rooftop, stands back up, and wisely back-flips the heck outta there.

______

As his sword movements grow more complicated and the green power take a near-constant presence in his veins, the gentle pulse of energy as familiar as a friend, Lloyd grows stronger, too.

This kickstarts an entirely new problem, because Lloyd can’t go five steps without ruining something, it seems.

In his defense, he doesn’t start breaking swords at a criminal rate until after Morro, so Lloyd’s gonna blame it all on him.

He stares blankly at the katana in his hands — or the remains of it, to be exact. Half the blade is somewhere across the street, where it went skidding after Lloyd’s final hit snapped it clean in two.

Kai stares just as blankly when Lloyd wordlessly offers the pieces up.

“Okay,” he finally says. “Maybe I went wrong with the balance, or something? This was probably just a fluke.”

He turns it over, frowning. “Wouldn’t hurt to reinforce the next one, I guess…”

Reinforcements or not, it takes the third shattered sword for Kai to wise on.

“I’m so sorry,” Lloyd warbles tearfully, the remains of Kai’s careful metalwork cradled in his arms. “I don’t know what happened, I was just swinging it, and it went — it went—”

“It went in six different directions, apparently,” Kai mutters.

Lloyd slumps. “It was only four this time,” he mutters.

“I guess this is what we get for training you as well as we did,” Kai says. “Cole and his super strength, I’ll never be free of it.”

“Didn’t he beat you by tripping you flat on your face?”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, oh cruel destroyer of my swords,” Kai scowls.

“I didn’t mean to!” Lloyd protests. “I tried really hard this time, but the last guy had this giant bat, and I thought I could cut it in half, but I swung so hard I screwed up my strike and went…in six…different directions…”

Kai scrubs a hand over his face. He glances at Lloyd, eyes searching.

“But you beat him?”

“Duh,” Lloyd says. The faith people have in him.

“And you didn’t get hit yourself?”

Lloyd shakes his head. “Not a scratch.” It’s not even a lie this time.

“Then I guess it was a noble sacrifice,” Kai sighs. “I can live with that.”

The katana’s sad remnants join the equally sad — and steadily growing — pile of scrap metal made by Lloyd’s awful sword skills. They have a pretty fun time melting it all down though, watching the metal bubble as Kai starts drafting the next run of layered steel he’ll shape into a katana.

“I’m gonna be a master katana maker at this rate,” he huffs, wiping at his forehead. Lloyd, who’s hanging over the forge to watch the different colors the liquid metal makes, taps lazily at his knee with his foot. The forge flares brighter as Kai’s fire does, and he mumbles a distracted thanks.

“A master hothead,” Lloyd says. Kai rolls his eyes. “If I ever figure out how to be a master swordsman, maybe you can take a break and figure out how to make other weapons.”

“Hey, I’m great at making other weapons.”

“Yeah, like ‘block of metal’ and ‘triangle of metal’ and ‘weird rectangle of metal’, and—”

“You’re gonna get a stick for next battle if you keep that up,” Kai growls, but his lips are twitching.

“Hypotenuse of metal,” Lloyd whispers.

“The heck, that’s not even a shape—”

The forge grows steadily hotter as Kai works, bright sparks popping and steam hissing up in little curling wisps. It doesn’t bother Lloyd too much — ever since that day in the volcano, the press of heat is more like a second skin. He’s nowhere near as durable as Kai, of course, who could probably hop in the forge and come out with only a sunburn, but it’s enough to feel cozy instead of sweaty and dizzy.

“Y’know, you don’t have to use a sword,” Kai says hesitantly, as he inspects a hammer. “There are a lot of other weapons that would fit your style. If you ever wanna try out a spear like Nya, that might suit you pretty well.”

“No!” Lloyd says sharply. Biting his tongue, he amends, “I’ve already been training with swords for forever. I don’t wanna change my whole style for something else.”

Kai eyes him shrewdly, but his lips finally twitch up in amusement. “If you say so,” he says. “But I swear, break my sword again and you will get a stick for your next weapon. Or chopsticks. A butter knife—”

______

Lloyd gets a new sword, of course. And another one. He might grouse and complain, but Kai doesn’t truly get angry about the swords. He does, however, get very angry over Lloyd’s total idiocy with what happens to said shattered swords.

His first mistake is the usual one — Lloyd swings a bit too hard at a sloppy angle and there’s a high-pitched screech as the sword dies a sad death, splitting in two.

Lloyd stares blankly at the now much-shorter katana in his hands, which is his second mistake. The delay costs him, and he scrambles to duck the thief’s vicious punch, their own sword having been knocked away in the scuffle. Their boot comes up, swinging for his head, and Lloyd springs back, landing palms-first on the floor and launching himself out of range.

He also, unthinking, drops the broken katana — mistake number three.

His fourth mistake is the worst one possible, because Lloyd brings his hand up to block what he’s sure will be another punch, only to get slashed by the jagged end of the katana he just dropped.

A sharp, burning pain explodes across his hand, and Lloyd stifles a shriek.

Stupid, stupid, stupid move.

The thief comes in for round two, Lloyd’s own snapped katana glinting in the fluorescent building lights, and Lloyd freezes. It occurs to him that he should probably just go ahead and hit the thief with an burst of green, but that’s also when Kai mows them down with a viciousness that reminds Lloyd — Kai always goes easy on him in training.

“I had him handled,” he still protests, after the thief’s been hauled off to prison (or the hospital, possibly).

Kai ignores him, sheathing his katana and storming his way.

He grabs Lloyd’s hand before he can protest, pulling back the torn fabric of his glove and slapping his own hood against the gash on his hand to stem the bleeding.

“What did I say,” Kai says angrily.

Lloyd flinches at the stinging pain in his hand, and tries to glare back.

Kai’s having none of it. “Your sword is supposed to take the hits,” he snaps. “Not you!”

“It did take the hit,” Lloyd finally throws back. “I just broke it, and — I was fine!”

“You hand’s bleeding all over my hood, that is not fine!”

“Then take your hood off and it won’t get blood on it!”

“My hood isn’t what I’m worried about!”

By the time Zane’s stitched Lloyd’s hand up, wincing barely kept at a minimum, Kai’s cooled down.

Somewhat.

“It was an accident, okay?” Lloyd says, for the billionth time. “I didn’t realize he had a weapon. I wasn’t trying to sacrifice my hand, or whatever.”

“Oh yeah? ‘Cause that sounds a lot like something you’d do.”

“Coming from you, that’s somewhat hypocritical,” Zane murmurs.

Lloyd snickers. Kai turns to Zane in utter betrayal.

Of course, this means that Lloyd’s next lesson is how to treat sword wounds in emergency situations, in painstaking and excruciating detail. His hand stings every time he grasps the katana handle for solid week, though, so Lloyd takes equally careful notes.

______

Lloyd goes and breaks another three katanas after that. At this point, he kinda thinks Kai should just give up and let him go into battle weapon-less again. You don’t need weapons to do Spinjitzu. The green power won’t break, and Lloyd certainly won’t split into six pieces.

(He hopes.)

Kai keeps putting swords in his hands anyways.

Lloyd could always just say no — he’s supposed to be leader or something, he can make his own decisions.

But he thinks of sparring sessions and smelling like cloves every other evening, thinks of the tiny dragons Kai still takes the time to carve into his katana handles, and throwing all that away would feel as great as sawing off his own arm.

So he picks the katana up, does his stupid katas, and promises to do better this time.

That doesn’t magically fix things, of course.

“How,” Kai says blankly, staring at the katana that now lies in a record eight pieces.

“Um.” Lloyd twists his fingers together. “I definitely didn’t use it to prop open a door like you said never to do.”

Kai gives him a smile that shows exactly all of his teeth.

“You have five seconds to run.”

______

All that training on treating sword wounds pays off. Possibly more than learning how to fight with a sword in the first place, when Kai drops in the middle of battle with a wicked slash across his lower thigh.

“Of all the — stupid, embarrassing—”

“Shut up,” Lloyd says tightly. He’s already focusing half his energy on not throwing up at the amount of blood soaking between his fingers where they’re pressed tightly over Kai’s leg. “Stop moving, I gotta see if it — if it hit an artery.”

“It better not have,” Kai pants, wincing as Lloyd presses down harder. “If it hit an artery I’m screwed.”

“Shut up.”

Lloyd’s heartbeat is a thunderstorm in his ears, panic welling up in his throat as Kai’s blood swims in his vision.

“Hey, hey,” Kai’s hand falters, then clasps Lloyd’s own. “M’gonna be fine. Takes a lot more than a stupid leg wound to take me out.”

“That’d be so lame,” Lloyd breathes, somewhat hysterically. He’s torn his own belt off for a tourniquet, which is step one, he thinks — hood can go around the actual wound, and if he steals Kai’s belt, then he can double reinforce it—

“I can always cauterize,” Kai says shakily, sounding like he’d rather do anything else in the world. “It’ll be — move!”

Lloyd manages to roll them both out of the way as the assassin who nailed Kai comes in to finish the job, sword scraping sparks across the rooftop. Lloyd flashes a furious glare over his shoulder, mind racing as he holds himself in front of Kai.

“Here.” The familiar hilt of Kai’s katana slaps against Lloyd’s open hand — the other is quick to follow suit. “Remember, double wielding — better for defense.”

Lloyd nods on instinct. He adjusts his grip on both swords, the blood on his fingers making the hilts tacky and sticky. It’s going to be a pain to clean later, a vague part of his mind notes.

Of course Lloyd remembers dual wielding. It is better for defending, but you lose power on striking and reach — he can deal with that. Kai does.

And it’s exactly what he needs, right now. The assassin won’t even get close to Kai.

One spin, then another. The katanas’ weight is familiar, balanced in the slightly-weird way Lloyd likes best, the way Kai makes all his swords. He finds his footing, finds the stance, and moves.

When Kai fights, he fights like the first flash of flame from a match strike — quick and bursting, fast enough it all but blinds the enemy.

When Lloyd fights, it feels like dancing — slower to start, picking steps deliberately, building to that bursting strike faster and faster.

It only takes one strike, after all. And Lloyd’s got two swords.

Silver flashes across the rooftop, a piercing screech as one of his katana meets the assassin’s broader blade, forcing it back—

The assassin drops with a cry before falling silent, the shattered pieces of a katana scattered around him.

“Saw that…one coming,” Kai moans.

Still breathing heavily, Lloyd tries not to cringe.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, after Kai’s securely in a hospital bed and enduring Nya’s forty-five minute lecture about the many ways your arteries can kill you.

Kai waves his hand, slightly cross-eyed and loopy from medication. “Y’know what? I wanted a new sword anyways. You saved me, so…skip the lecture and we’ll call it square?”

Lloyd lets a small smirk crawl up his face.

“You know, I feel like there’s something very important you should keep in mind, about your weapons taking the hit, instead of you—”

“When I get out of here, you’re toast.”

______

“I think I know where I’m going wrong,” Kai says.

He’s spent the weekend with his father, the two of them either shut up in the forge or buzzing and forth about blacksmithing. It leaves Lloyd feeling a little weird — some mix between happy for Kai and achingly jealous, which then leaves him mostly just sad, which sucks. Lloyd sucks — it’s terrible to feel that way. Everyone was happy when Lloyd got both his parents back after that first battle, and even if he’s lost that — the least he can do is be happy for Kai and Nya.

It ends up working out pretty great in the end, because Kai looks a little like he’s unraveled the mysteries of the universe right now.

Half his right eyebrow is also scorched off, but Lloyd decides not to mention it for now. It’ll be funny to see the look on his face, when he notices.

“I was talking with my dad, who’s got a lot more experience with this stuff, and he suggested something,” Kai continues. He fiddles with whatever he’s got hidden behind his back, and Lloyd has to stifle the urge to dart around him and see.

“No more katana,” Kai says. “You’re good with ‘em, but I think we need a change-up.”

“You mean good at breaking them,” Lloyd mutters.

“If the sword breaks on you, it’s my fault,” Kai says. “I’m not exactly the world’s best blacksmith. Y’know, you should really think about getting someone else to—”

“No.” Lloyd bites his tongue immediately, aware of how bratty he sounds.

And selfish. It’s not like Kai has tons of time to just make Lloyd swords all the time.

As if reading his thoughts, Kai scuffs his hair. “Stop that. I like making swords.” The small edge of a smile pulls at his lips. “I worked pretty hard to become a blacksmith. So it feels kinda good, that someone appreciates the work for once.”

He shakes his head. “Anyways! Meet your new battle buddy. This is called a dao sword.”

Lloyd stares at the curved, silvery blade Kai’s handed to him. It’s thicker than the katana he’s used to, the blade growing broader at the end before tapering off.

“Historically, it’s better suited for quick slashing, but it’s fairly versatile,” Kai continues.

Lloyd carefully lifts the sword, his eyes widening just a bit.

“And heavier,” Kai grins. “Which means it’s gonna be at least a little more difficult for you to shatter.”

His hands fit easily around the handle — there’s plenty of room for a two-handed grip, and enough balance if he wants to switch back to one.

“The guard’s a bit better with protection, and it’s got this tassel here you can wrap around your hand — yeah, like that — to help keep it steady. Or just look fancy.”

Stepping back, Lloyd adjust his hold. Normally he’d do something silly, or needlessly complicated, just to make Kai roll his eyes, but something about this one feels heavier — he doesn’t want to mess it up. He takes a single, experimental swing instead.

“Oh,” Lloyd blinks. “It’s sharp.”

“I’d hope so. What do you think I am, a half-rate blacksmith — don’t answer that, by the way.”

Lloyd simply grins, taking a few more swings. It is heavier than the katana he’s used to, broader and chunkier — but it feels at home in his hands.

“It’s incredible,” Lloyd says, turning back to Kai. “Thank you.”

Kai colors, just a bit. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying! I love it. It’s perfect.”

“Well, as long as it holds up, that’s good enough for me,” Kai says, rubbing the back of his head. “Wanna give it a test drive?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd says. “I bet I can do even more flips with it.”

“And stab yourself in the leg in the process, but sure, go ahead, squander my gift—”

______

Lloyd’s careful, more so than ever, with the dao sword. When they all split across Ninjago, Lloyd clings to the piece of his family and tries to remember Kai’s instructions, making sure his hands are firmly wrapped and his right ankle always stays low.

So when it breaks on the river with Harumi, Lloyd wants to cry.

He wants to cry for a lot of other reasons, but it still hurts — another thing he cares for that Harumi’s managed to break so easily. It hurts that they all work so hard, time and again, and it always ends up shattering around them anyways. Hurts that they pour themselves out for this city again and again and it’s still not enough.

(Hurts that he’s never, ever going to outrun that worthless little kid in the snow.)

He learns, later — he’s got much more to lose to her than just a sword.

It hurts all the same.

But the sword’s broken and Lloyd’s on a one-way collision course with his father, and it’s much too late to turn back now.

Lloyd enters Kryptarium Prison with nothing but himself and his power. It was enough the first time, it’s got to be enough this one as well.

Lloyd was enough the first time — if he isn’t enough now—

If he isn’t—

______

He isn’t.

He throws himself against his father and shatters his heart with every hit. Then the rest of him goes and shatters too, ribs cracking and skin splitting as he’s battered through walls and bruised against stone. His power sparks and screams as it tries to save him, pushed to its limits.

A part of Lloyd finds it funny — he can’t even keep his power together. He wonders if he’ll snap into six pieces and fly everywhere, just like Kai’s poor katanas, with nothing left but broken pieces of Lloyd to melt down for scrap.

Kai doesn’t find it funny in the slightest. Not the muffled voice Lloyd hears breaking as his family tries to put him back together, not the filthy embrace Lloyd gets when it’s finally over, not the multiple hour-long lectures Lloyd’s forced to sit through even three months out.

“I don’t care how many swords you break,” he hisses, giving Lloyd a shake that’s forceful enough his teeth almost rattle. “I don’t care if you shatter a thousand. They’re supposed to protect you. You’re supposed to choose yourself. Don’t you ever, ever, put yourself out there to break again.”

Lloyd must’ve broken a hundred promises by now. He can’t seem to do anything right, truly — not being the Green Ninja, not being a good brother, not being Garmadon’s son.

But, as he nods and makes another promise, he can try.

For Kai, he’ll try.

______

Things are different, after his father, but it’s the same way things are always different after their family escapes by the skin of their teeth. Each new threat leaves another lingering wound, but Lloyd likes to think it stitches them closer in the aftermath.

With everyone’s attention so laser-focused on Lloyd after everything, it makes it easier for him to spot the others’ bad days.

It only takes him five minutes to track down Kai this time. Lloyd carefully lowers himself cross-legged next to him on the floor, katana laid across his lap.

Kai tenses, as if preparing for another speech.

Please. Lloyd’s methods are way sneakier — and better — these days.

“So,” he starts, as he dips the edge of a rag in Kai’s choji oil. “I was patrolling today, and I saw like, a demon cat, I think? I mean, it was definitely a cat. It looked kind of like the one Zane used to feed when we lived at the apartment, all stripey and stuff. I was gonna try and pet it, ‘cause patrol was pretty boring and what was I supposed to do, ignore it? So I did the whole pspsps thing, and it was not a fan — and I swear, it hissed at me, and it looked just like my dad. When he's all Oni, y’know? Which is rude, cats are supposed to be comforting, not traumatic—”

Lloyd’s rambling grows more and more nonsensical as he goes, jumping from topic to topic as he works on the katana. He can feel the tension seeping out of Kai where he sits beside him though, bit by bit until Kai’s finally leaning against his shoulder.

“Missed a spot,” he speaks up suddenly, his voice only cracking a little.

Lloyd squints at the sword. “Where?”

Kai taps a bandaged finger on the blade.

“Oh,” Lloyd blinks. He adjusts the rag. “Thanks.”

Kai speaks up again, after a minute, “You’ve gotten good at this.”

“Had a good teacher.”

There’s a faint snort. “Debatable.”

“With who?” Lloyd says. “I’m your number one sword student. And your only one. I win automatically.”

“The others use swords. Sometimes.”

“Yeah, and Jay still whines every time the super special weapon-of-the-week to defeat evil ends up being a sword again,” Lloyd says.

“S’cause Jay’s better with nunchucks. Totally different concept.”

“But he isn’t better with a sword.”

“Definitely not better than me.”

“I’m your best student,” Lloyd says. “Jay can’t be better than me. That’s illegal.”

“If the Green Ninja declares it,” Kai says, but there’s an edge of laughter in his voice, a thawing out of the numb blankness he’d worn earlier. He slumps, just a bit heavier, against Lloyd.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Kai mutters.

“‘Kay.” Lloyd turns the sword over, squinting at his reflection. “Sometime, though?”

“If you can manage not to break anymore katanas before I finish your new weapon, maybe.”

“You guys won’t even let me out to fight,” Lloyd grouses. “It’s not as if I’ll have a chance to.”

Kai makes a huffing noise. “Maybe if you’d sit still long enough to heal—”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you,” Lloyd scowls. “Look, I know I messed up with — with her, but—”

“That’s not what this is about,” Kai says sharply. “It’s about you being okay.”

Normally, Lloyd would protest. Should protest — he doesn’t deserve to get off that easy. But Kai’s gone tense again, so he lets it go, just this once.

“Sorry,” he murmurs anyways.

“No, don’t. You’re doin’ good,” Kai sighs, and he sounds so very, very tired. “Just…take it easy, okay? ’Til I get your sword done.”

“Sorry for breaking the old one, too,” Lloyd says. “I really did try to keep it safe.”

“I’ll make you a hundred swords,” Kai says. “A thousand, if I have to. Just keep using them, okay? Swords are your weapon.”

Like Lloyd’s ever going to forget that, at this point.

______

It’s only after the Oni are more a memory and Lloyd has been subjected to an unholy amount of recuperation that Kai allows him to even see the sword he’s made this time.

It’s well worth the wait, though.

“It’s gold,” Lloyd murmurs, reverently holding the new dao blade.

“Yeah, well,” Kai shrugs, a little bashful. “I thought you should match us, at some point.”

Lloyd has to try very hard not to pretend that doesn’t make a small, lingering part of him want to tear up.

“Is this jade?” he says instead, carefully tracing a finger over the single panel of green that decorates the blade.

“Technically it’s jadeite, and no, you don’t wanna know where I got it,” Kai corrects.

“I don’t care,” Lloyd says. “I love it. It’s the best sword ever. I — thank you, so much—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Kai says quickly. “You’re welcome, or whatever, just — you’ll use it, right?”

Lloyd gives him a long, flat look.

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

“You are not allowed to joke about that—!”

______

The golden dao sword never breaks.

It takes Lloyd several fights with it to stop holding back, but once he realizes this sword won’t shatter to pieces in his hands, he lets himself get creative.

And the sword holds, again and again.

Against Aspheera’s burning soldiers, against the bitter chill of the Never Realm, against the Skull Sorcerer’s monsters in the depths of Shintaro, against the heavy weight of water and cold crystal — the dao blade holds.

Kai tells him it’s because Lloyd’s finally learned how to stop using his weapon as a glorified baseball bat. Lloyd thinks it’s because Kai knows blacksmithing for ninja better than anyone else in the world.

His powers grow, too — along with his options, which he’d really have preferred to just…avoid.

Real fun that it wasn’t the many years of pent-up anger issues, but crippling traumatic grief, that’s the key to unlocking his shapeshifting abilities. Hilarious.

It still stings, a bit, that no one ever bothered to tell him he was walking around with the blood of two mythical beings just chilling in his veins, Would’ve been nice to know, maybe, before he got stuck having a whole crisis about it smack in the middle of another world-ending crisis.

Oni, dragon, Green Ninja. Like he needs another title.

In the end, it doesn’t matter much what he thinks. Everyone moves on and Lloyd is a multi-bred freak of nature, or something.

His father thinks he should hone his Oni powers. Sensei Wu thinks he should listen to his father but also remember his dragon side. His mother thinks he should read the eight-hundred page historical brick of a book about all known history of the Oni and the dragon. He doesn’t have a clue what his great-grandparents think of him, except that a family reunion would be world-ending levels of terrible.

Lloyd, who’s grown attached to looking like himself and happens to like being human, keeps reaching for his dao blade first.

Swordsmanship is something he’s proud of. He’s worked hard for it, through blisters and bruises and blood. It’s something that belongs to him and Kai, something shared and freely given. Something passed onto him, something taught and earned, something treasured.

Lloyd doesn’t have a lot of things like that, so he treasures it all the more himself.

Treasures the humanity of his family, and how lucky he is to be part of that.

Treasures the things he’s learned from them like family heirlooms he’s never had.

Treasures the fact that they’re there—

Treasures the—

______

The monastery is so quiet, Lloyd’s starting to understand how people lose their minds.

Not really. He hasn’t started talking to himself yet, so that’s a good sign, right? It doesn’t count, if you’re yelling for other people. Doesn’t count if you’re screaming curses at your stupid grandfather who let your whole world split apart and tore away the only people that were yours.

“It doesn’t count,” he whispers to the sword in his lap.

Lloyd stares dully at his reflection in the dao sword, marred by the splotchy wear and ugly chipping at the blade’s edges. It’s in miserable shape, worn down and neglected.

A lot like himself, maybe.

He shudders, drawing in a breath. Sulking won’t sharpen swords. And when Kai gets back — which he will — he’ll be so disappointed that Lloyd’s gone and treated his sword like dirt.

The smell of choji oil makes his eyes sting, but the familiar sound the rag makes across the blade soothes it.

He’s glad he took the time to sharpen it up, too, when he visits the city. More than glad when he finds himself atop the train, his missing hood leaving him distinctly uncomfortable as he prepares to fight.

Lloyd’s hands have warped and twisted, burst in purple and grown claws sharp enough to slice. If he can make them his own again, after that, he can make them hold steady now.

The handle of the dao blade is worn and familiar, the fraying tassel the same bright green where it brushes the back of his hands, and Kai’s voice yells in his head as loud as ever as he swings it once—

One flip this time, he decides. One flip, one strike.

Swords are his weapon, after all. It’s important for him to remember that.

And even if he doesn’t—

______

Lloyd’s grown up in a world of weapons, and far faster than he probably should.

But with every sword swing, every familiar callous carved into his hand, Kai’s there to remind him that his sword is the weapon.

And Lloyd, power or no power, is just Lloyd.

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #my fic #am still insane about them!!#this is like 80 percent headcanon but it's canon to ME #also its like 9k words im so sorry if it crashes ur browser

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glitterfairy-21225 · 6 months ago

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Honestly, I like that we’re only now seeing Demetri feed into anger and make decisions he’ll probably regret later. Now, after Hawk has already had his redemption arc and rejected Cobra Kai’s ideology. I don’t think any sane viewer would have blamed him for going a little dark after Hawk broke his arm, but he didn’t. In fact, Demetri forgave Hawk extremely easily. He’s better than me, I don’t think most people would be willing to look past that so quickly.

So why now? Why does MIT hurt more than all the far worse stuff Eli did when he was in Cobra Kai?

Demetri has been learning Miyagi Do since s2. Before that, he disliked Cobra Kai’s way of doing things and only really clicked with karate when he was taught balance and self defense. Demetri is probably behind Sam and Anthony as the teen character with the least amount of experience in Cobra Kai.

But there’s a reason all the adult characters keep talking about balance. It can’t just be either all rage or all forgiveness. I can imagine Demetri harboring some pent up resentment over Hawk’s actions, buried so deep he doesn’t even realize it’s there until they have another fight.

And this time, it’s not Kreese’s brainwashing. It’s not that his best friend was angry about their lots in life and lashed out to extreme extents. There’s not a greater bad guy to point at behind Hawk, there’s not even really a bad guy. They’ve just been through a lot and they’re different people than they were when they first picked a college. Eli is telling him, “You’re my best friend but we’re never going back to how we used to be. We cannot go back and I’m not sure I want the same future as you.”

And this is after Demetri gets his best friend back. Apart from everything with Silver and Kreese, his life is going relatively uphill; Eli is good again, they have plenty of other friends, he’s dating Yasmine, and he’s learnt karate. Other than his friends’ success, he really isn’t looking for more than to preserve what he’s already gained. Losing MIT with Eli is a curveball he didn’t expect, just another thing he’s supposed to accept and move on from, and it happens when Demetri thinks he’s found security.

And then there Demetri’s motivation for wanting to compete in the Sekai Taikai. It’s not ambition. Demetri already got what he wanted out of Miyagi Do, he knows how to defend himself. In past seasons, he stayed because there was safety in numbers and of course he was against Cobra Kai. But now that Kreese is out of the valley, Demetri is still with the dojo because all his friends are there and he has developed a genuine enjoyment of martial arts. He doesn’t really want more. He says multiple times that he’s okay if where he’s at is the farthest he’ll go in terms of karate.

Demetri is comfortable being a side character. He doesn’t think he’ll ever outdo the core four or Hawk so he doesn’t see a point in trying. He wants to ride out the rest of his senior year with the dojo and then go to MIT, where he’ll do what he’s always been good at, where he might actually excel.

And Yasmine calls him out on this. They bonded when they were both at their lowest and she dated him while Demetri was helping the fight against Cobra Kai. She does not want him to throw in the towel too early and grow stagnant.

So, at first, Demetri really trains and tries his best to get picked for the Sekai Taikai to please her. But then Hawk tells him he’s unsure about MIT, and, “You chose my path?!” There was such genuine hurt in his voice, but Demetri could never hurt Hawk as much as Hawk hurt him. And Barnes said you have to be ruthless to get into the Sekai Taikai, yet Hawk showed him mercy, which Demetri exploits.

Demetri is clearly unsure of his actions when he takes the flag and runs. He seriously considers helping his best friend up. But when Eli decided to be selfish, he did so much damage, so why can’t Demetri be selfish this one time? Why can’t he lash out and take the victory he wants at the other’s expense? It’s not like he does anything worse than what Hawk’s done to him?

Sometimes you just need to hash it out and make up. It’s why Sam and Tory couldn’t spar properly after becoming friends; they realized they liked each other so they didn’t address their baggage. But because they didn’t, they felt at risk of falling into bad habits whenever the past finally did catch up to them. But they talked it out, they apologized for the things they regret, they brought up lingering resentments. Demetri wanted his best friend back so he forgave too easily, and now that they’re fighting again, so much past hurt is being brought to the surface.

Now that Cobra Kai is out of the valley, Demetri has started falling back to old habits. It’s been noted that he does most of the talking on Eli’s behalf in the early episodes of s6, his resignation about the Sekai Taikai reminds me a lot about his apathy towards high school in s1, and he assumes they’ll still go through with the college plans they made before their falling out. I do think Demetri genuinely wanted to be a part of the tournament but resigned himself after the team number was announced. When Hawk came clean about applying to MIT, Demetri finally decided to take more.

The show is about balance, it’s about finding a middle ground between defense and offense, Daniel and Johnny. I don’t think Demetri is gonna have a full blown villain arc or join Kreese or anything overly dramatic (we’re already getting that with Tory). He’s been loyal to Miyagi Do for too long. But that’s kind of the issue, he never fully let himself get angry at Hawk, and this is the result. Like Johnny said about Tory, if it takes a fight to process all your emotions, then fight, because holding it in will only make everything uglier.

#cobra kai #binary brothers #demetri alexopoulos #eli moskowitz #hawk moskowitz #johnny lawrence #tory nichols #cobra kai netflix #cobra kai season 6 #cobra kai series #cobra kai s6 #cobra kai spoilers #cobra kai season six #binary boyfriends

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bagopucks · 11 months ago

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T. Zegras - Can He Sing?

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): None?

—————————————

“We’re ready when you are.”

“I’m good. Trev?”

“Uh yeah… I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Filming.”

“Hello! I’m Macy Grey and today we’re here with the singer-songwriter who brought you the famous album Silly Love Songs. And her lover Trevor Zegras from the Anaheim Ducks. On behalf of myself and the studio I want to thank you both for coming out today.”

“Of course! I love getting in touch with interviewers. Especially from locally known studios.”

“When I was informed you were in town for the All Stars, I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time, but I’m so happy you were able to fit us into your schedule.”

“Absolutely. I should be thanking you for letting Trevor come though. I know your forte isn’t exactly hockey players.”

Large studio interviews were a waste of time. It was something I always resented, and something that even morally never agreed with me. Large studios only wanted to get news first to make the most money. Smaller places offered a more personal environment and a more comfortable atmosphere. It was the only reason why I had invited Trevor along. I didn’t want him involved too much in the social half of my career, mostly because the industry and jealous fans could be cruel to artists’ lovers. But I reasoned with myself that one interview wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone like Macy Grey. She was always so kind and open to friends, family, or significant others of musicians.

“To kick us off, I’d love to talk more on the exact reason why you’re in town. Everyone is aware of your successes, but let’s fill the crowd in on Trevor’s.”

“Where to start?” I glanced at Trevor, who let out that awkward wheezy laugh. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but this was a new thing for him. Usually hockey interviews happened when there were loads of other people around. These interviews were far more private. “He was voted in as one of the players this year to play in the All Stars, and he’s competing in a few skills competitions as well. He won a gold medal with Team USA one year before the NHL, he attended Boston University before being drafted.. what else?” I hoped to get him to join in, but Trevor looked fairly comfortable letting me do all the talking. I could fix that though.

“Trevor was voted most likely to cry in a haunted house this year for team superlatives.” I smirked as soon as I heard him gasp.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Trevor cut in. “I’m not a baby, write that down.” He pointed toward Macy, as if the woman had some sort of notepad in her hands. “I’m just jumpy. It’s normal.” His blue eyes shifted toward me with a playful glare, Macy laughed softly at the exchange.

“Well, Trevor. It seems like you’re a pretty successful person yourself. Would you mind me asking how you two met?”

“Oh I love this story.”

“Me too,” Trevor chimed in, crossing his legs one over the other, and leaning forward like a kid during story time.

“So, I was in New York for a performance in MSG, and the Ducks were in town too for a game” I smiled, leaning back in my chair and trying to get comfortable. “My best friend had joined me for the eastern leg of the tour at the time, so we decided to go out for drinks downtown. My favorite bar in the city is 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar. So my best friend, Shelby and I, we just got two glasses of champagne and settled at a high table to watch the sunset. We’re minding our own business.. for the most part, but there’s this group of guys that are just carrying on. They’re loud and obnoxious and they look like your stereotypical frat guys. At one point Shelby had enough, and she got up to go yell at them.” I peeked at Trevor, his smile growing wider. He knew very well that this was the part where he came in. “So Shelby’s yelling at that group of guys, and I finally got up to go wrangle her. And just as I’m approaching.. I kinda stopped and asked myself if it was a good idea. Shelby doesn’t like to be told to stop much. Then I hear this voice right next to me. Scared the shit out of me. And the voice goes, “She yours?” I laughed softly, as did Macy.

“I apologized profusely for her behavior, and-“

“But I told her I wasn’t the one getting yelled at. So it didn’t bother me.” Trevor cut in with a toothy grin. “Then I bought her another glass of champagne and the rest is history.”

“Don’t forget about the part where you booked your hotel room for an extra night to see me perform.” I teased, “And bribed security into getting backstage to see me and ask for my number.”

“Those details don’t make me sound as cool though,” Trevor whined.

“That’s a really sweet story.” Macy chimed in.

“Thank you.”

“So he asked for your number, but who asked who out?”

“To simplify a long story, Trevor was beating around the bush too much for a little while, so one night be brought me flowers before an away game and I told him when he got back, we were going to go on our first date as an official couple.” Macy and I laughed in unison.

“And were there any arguments to that demand?”

“Not from me, no.” Trevor giggled. “I was more than happy to put a label on it.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Two years. Three at the end of All Star Week.”

“How adorable! You guys must be a strong couple then.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” Trevor smiled as he spoke.

“Now, the question on everyone’s minds is.. can he sing?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” I corrected Trevor ruthlessly. “He thinks he can.. but he can’t.” I chuckled, glancing at the sandy blonde to see his look of pure betrayal.

“Does that mean we won’t be hearing any duets?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered slyly, earning a surprised look from Macy. “Trev is featured on the album.. speaking. His features are mostly just backtracks.”

“I know this may be asking a lot but- is there any chance we could get a sneak peek at that?”

“For you Macy? I would love to.” I watched the girl’s eyes light up. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my files, scrolling through for a moment before I stood and dragged my chair closer to the woman’s.

“This song is called Spellbound. It was actually the first song I produced for this new album. I took some of my inspiration from the song Witchy Woman by the Eagles. The reason being, this was written during halloween, and that is just one of my favorite spooky songs. For this piece, I wanted it to feel supernaturally devoted to Trevor. Like.. kind of like.. like a love where one person idolizes the other, but not necessarily in an obsessive or toxic way. I think the lyrics and the tune teetering on the edge of insanity really adds to the supernatural edge and it also makes this song unique to Trevor. I can’t say I’ll ever produce another song like this, nor do I think anyone else will. Classic rock isn’t exactly my genre, nor do I plan for it to be. So this track really sticks out. Which is the main reason why I chose to give this song its own cover art. And I’ll be releasing it as the first single.” It was a lot of information to offer, but I was very passionate about the things I dedicated to Trevor. Especially this song.

Most of my music got old after constantly rerecording lyrics and harmonies, or sorting out instruments. But this song never did. I loved it through and through.

“This sounds amazing and so.. intricate. How long did it take in total from thinking of the idea to finalizing the song?”

“A full month maybe? I hadn’t been exactly itching to make a new album, so I knew if I was going to, my basis for it was going to have to be amazing. And I think I did a fairly good job.” I paused. “I hope so..”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. Let’s hear it!”

I wasted no time in playing the track, a steel guitar and stylized keyboard opening the musical scene. I was a person who loved using clips of recordings in my music, whether it was from everyday life, or a random video in my camera roll, or even if I took the recording of the sound specifically for a song. It was one of my many musical signatures, but the one I was most known for. Atop the smooth music, came the faded clinging of pans, and Trevor’s soft voice. “I can’t wait for you to be home.. Fuck I miss you so much.” It had been a voicemail, but my sound producers managed to give it a more authentic feel, as if someone was in the room with him recording instead of it being spoken into a phone mic. The music itself was fairly calm and collected. Certain instruments helped it sound taboo and old, but the lyrics were the driving factor that made it sound almost insane. A part of me worried my audience wouldn’t take to the song well, but Macy seemed enthralled from the start of the track.

I eyed her expressions carefully through every second, smiling to myself when she seemed particularly intrigued by a section. And I had to admit, it boosted my ego to hear Trevor not too far off in his own chair humming the song to himself. I could live with myself if everyone hated the song, as long as he loved it.

Near the bridge, Trevor’s voice returned, “I’m gonna keep you forever.” This section had been specifically recorded in the studio, and despite my endless attempts to get him to take it seriously, he had giggled at the end of every take. Eventually I settled on knowing I wouldn’t have it the exact way I wanted it, and we used the take with the least amount of amusement in his voice. At the end of the day when we put it all together, his laugh only ended up adding to the crazy feel of the song.

Near the end of the track, Macy finally spoke up.

“This is the weirdest and most mentally satisfying song I have ever heard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?”

“You’re so right, it sounds nothing like what you usually produce, but it still has your essence in it. You can tell it’s your songwriting. I think this song is going to be crazy successful. And I also think having Trevor on it is going to make people go nuts” I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of that. I knew my fans would love to see Trevor featured.

“Thank you so much. I’m so excited to release the song.” I admitted with a slight grin.

“I’m just excited that I’ll be able to listen to it without having to say “babe can you sing me that song” every time I wanna hear it.” Trevor teased, causing my cheeks to flush as our eyes met.

“You don’t like her singing to you?” Macy joked.

“God no. I love it when she sings. I just hate how much I get made fun of when I ask her to do it.” The three of us laughed.

“Sounds to me like you have a pretty devoted girlfriend.”

“She did write a weirdly obsessive song about me.” Trevor agreed pridefully. “The first of many, right babe?” His question made my brow rise in surprise.

“We’ll see, Ziggy.”

“That’s a good answer. Can’t give too much away just yet.” My eyes trailed back to Macy. Our time was drawing to a close. “I hate to cut us short but I think we’re reaching our limit. And I know you have your own tight schedule today.” She paused. “I really wanna thank you again for making enough time to come out. It means a lot.”

“Mace, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we had so much fun being here. You always conduct the best interviews.” The woman blushed.

“We can come back anytime.” Trevor added, catching me off guard.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer the next time you’re in town.” Macy grinned. “I hope you both enjoy the All Stars, and rock the red carpet of course.”

“Thank you so much. We definitely hope to.”

“I’ll be watching on tv.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #ella’s thoughts #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #nico hischier #ella’s updates #ella’s asks #cole caufield #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader

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blouisparadise · 6 months ago

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Upon request, today we have a rec list of fics with roadtrips! This is the perfect summer rec list, so we hope you check out these incredible fics and show them some love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11,103 words

“Stop sulking and get up. I have a proposition to make.” “Niall?” Louis questioned. “Do you think I should put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?” He looked over and found Niall giving him an unimpressed look. “So, no?” Louis asked. “No stars?” “We’re going on a road trip,” Niall stated. Louis looked back at his starless ceiling and waved farewell to Niall. “Cool. Have fun!” “No, you idiot.” Niall let out a frustrated sigh. “You, me, Liam, and Harry.” Louis glanced over to Niall and back to the ceiling. “Who’s Harry?”

2) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11,569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest. "Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself. Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

3) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13,150 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

"He hates this, more than anything in the world he hates this. His title, his rank, his DNA. Unchangeable. Fated. And then there’s Harry, born to be unobjectively superior to Louis and all other O’s. Unlike other A’s, Harry doesn’t wear his alpha-ness very well. He’s clumsy with it, like walking around in a pair of shoes a size too big. His life is defined by uncertainty and tentativeness, and those are definitely not qualities alphas should have. Sometimes, when Louis ponders it for too long, he thinks that maybe Harry resents being an A just as much as Louis resents being an O."

4) All I Want Is To Fall With You | Mature | 16,524 words

The pair looked at each other for a few moments before Harry moved forward and gathered Louis in an unexpected hug. It was nice, but why the fuck was an unknown alpha hugging him? Maybe an even better question would be why did Louis feel so secure in this stranger's arms? Harry quickly let go and Louis felt something pull at him. "Sorry," Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Shit, um, that just seemed a natural response for some reason. I’m so sorry." Louis smiled up at the alpha. "It's okay. Thanks again, Harry." "You're welcome. I know it's horrible weather, and less than optimal circumstances, but this was a brilliant meet-cute." What the fuck was a meet-cute?

5) These Roads We Stumble Down | Explicit | 18,233 words

Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it's a long ride to Glasgow.

6) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30,611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he��s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

7) Take The Back Roads | Explicit | 31,333 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates who are pining over each other and all they need is a road trip down the West Coast to bring them together.

8) Bluebird | Explicit | 39,046 words

The 2,789 miles between New York and Los Angeles is a long way to go alone.

9) From Dust To Lust | Explicit | 45,437 words

From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind. It’s funny how things work out.

10) Made For Lovin' You | Explicit | 52,637 words

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid.

11) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59,877 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

12) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

13) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Explicit | 102,528 words | Sequel

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #blp #roadtrip au

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year ago

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@steddiemas Day 6 - Baking & Cookie Decorating

pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 1,911 | rated: G

A couple days later finds Eddie on his way to Steve’s house at the early as fuck hour of 8:30am

“AARrugh–fuuck!” he curses again, trying to stifle down another cracking yawn, “It should be illegal to be up this early.”

“You mean the normal time people get up?”

“No, normal is lunchtime. Realistic is two.”

“God, you’re such a loser.”

“And yet you still hang out with me.”

“Uh, no. I hang out with Steve and El and Lucas and sometimes Dustin. You’re just there by association.”

“Ouch Red, that hurts my soul.” He winces dramatically

“What soul?”

Eddie grins at her, “Touché, Maxine”

Her tiny, pointy knuckles meet his bicep as he pulls Bessie into the Harringtons’ driveway.

They’re having a pre-thanksgiving dinner with the party before they all have actual Thanksgiving with each of their families, and Max insisted on coming over early to help Steve with preparations.

“If we don’t go help, he’s going to do it all by himself you know.”

“Robin will be there, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna do everything by himself. You know Robin is moral support at best.”

“And what are we gonna be, huh? You think I’m any better?”

She had huffed at that. “We’re going, Munson.”

So, here they are. Like Eddie suspected, as soon as they breach the front door, Robin is visible on one of the stools at the island, sleep rumpled and a mug in hand, and Steve is standing at the stove already.

“Good ‘morrow to you, Lord and Lady Buckley,” Eddie bellows, startling them both, “Myself and the young Miss Mayfield have traveled far to be with you on this momentous day, and to offer to you our services.” he gives them a dramatic bow, glancing up through his lashes.

Steve is grinning, Robin has collapsed forward onto the counter in front of her, Max is groaning.

He stands straight again, “We may only be a couple of lowly peasants in your Kingdom, but the call to help was unavoidable.”

“Eddie did not want to come help, lemme make that clear.”

“Shut up, Max”

“You shut up, liar–”

“Okay, okay!” Steve laughs, interrupting them, “Many thanks to you both for making the trip; your help will be greatly appreciated.”

Eddie’s stomach goes soupy, he loves when Steve plays along.

“So, what can we do?” he asks, clapping his hands once and rubbing his palms together like he’s itching to get started.

“Well, it is still pretty early (“I told you.”, “Shut up, Eddie.”), so right now you can help by telling me how you like your eggs.”

The turkey goes into the oven halfway through breakfast, Steve having prepped it last night, so Steve starts to cipher out what else he needs to make.

“Dustin said that Claudia was making a pumpkin pie for us, so we’re set there, I’m making the sweet potato casserole, Lucas said that his mom is sending over a pan of greens with him and Erica, Robin has the stuffing covered–”

“I make a mean can of Stovetop.” Robin cuts in from the sink where she’s washing the few dishes from breakfast.

“Pretty much everyone else is bringing something…” Steve looks lost for a moment, then his expression turns tense, that crease between his brows cuts deep into his skin.

Max must see this too because she says, “What about cookies?”

“Cookies?”

“Yeah, like the sugar cookies you made everyone a tin of last year?” “You made everyone sugar cookies?? Why wasn’t I given any?” Steve rolls his eyes, “‘Cause last year you were just Eddie “The Freak” Munson,”

“Hey–I resent that,” Eddie pokes Steve in the chest, “I’m still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, thank you very much.” “Many apologies, Your Freak-ness, how ever shall I make it up to you.” His tone is sarcastic, but the words make a whole matter of unsavory retorts gather on Eddie’s tongue.

“C’mon Steve, I want those damn cookies!” Max demands, smacking a palm onto the counter to really sell it.

“Hey! Language.”

“I also want some of those damn cookies.” Robin agrees.

“Yeah c’mon Stevie, I didn’t get to have any last year and now I’m curious.” “Dude, they’re the best cookies ever. I hate that he only makes them once a year.”

“Okay, okay, fine! Lemme make sure I have everything I need.”

He does, so he gets to work as requested demanded, though he does send Max and Robin (with her newly acquired license) to the store for powdered sugar. “For the frosting..I’m sure you want frosting on these, right?”

Eddie sticks close after they leave, watching Steve work and passing him ingredients.

At one point, Eddie scoops up a cup of flour for him, only to have Steve wrap his hand over his on the handle of the cup and start to stir the flour in it with a fork.

“Uh, do you always need to stir your flour before putting it in?” Is that a thing? Eddie has never done that, even within the few times he’s ever actually baked something before.

“You do if the person scooping packs it into the cup like this.” Steve teases, spinning the fork around in his hand to scrape the now-overflowing heap of flour off the top of the measuring cup and back into the bag with the handle. “Flour doesn’t get packed down to measure, fluffy and loose measurements only.” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand forward and upends the cup over the mixing bowl.

Eddie’s mouth feels like it’s coated in flour.

“There! Perfect. I’ll need another cup just like that one.” Steve smiles and passes the fork to him.

He lets Eddie's hand go and turns back to the bowl, mixing the flour in with one of those rubber scraping spatulas instead of using the electric beater he’d used for the eggs and sugar.

“So,” Eddie re-wets the inside of his mouth so he can talk correctly, “Why do you only make these once a year?” He carefully scoops up another helping of flour.

“They’re usually Christmas cookies and I– aw shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any non-Christmas themed cookie cutters.”

Eddie immediately thinks back to one of the last Christmases he had with his mom. Ouch…damn it.

He gulps down the lump in his throat. “Do you have any empties?”

Eddie can feel Steve watching him as he works, carefully cutting the tops and bottoms off a good sized bag of empty soda and beer cans over the sink. He cuts the new aluminum rectangles in half lengthwise and sets the strips aside.

“You’ve made these before?”

“Yep! Easier to make your own than buy them, y’know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“My mom liked to make new ones every year, so I have a lot of practice doing this,” Eddie pushes on, picking up a strip of metal and folds it in half lengthwise. “We’ll need some tape for the open side, but basically you fold it like this, shape it however you want, and fold the ends over each other to keep them closed.”

He demonstrates, making a messy heart shape pretty quickly. “You can link more than one together if you want, too. Make bigger ones…Ta da!” He shows off the ‘finished’ shape.

“Sweet!”

By the time Robin and Max return, Eddie’s got a pile of aluminum strips ready to go, and Steve’s done with the dough.

“Perfect timing, ladies, come help us make cookie cutters.”

Max pulls up a stool immediately, grabbing a couple of the metal strips, but Robin huffs. “Aw, what? We have to make the cookie cutters first? I thought I’d come home to a house full of cookies, Steve.”

“The dough has to chill in the fridge for an hour, and we don’t have any Thanksgiving themed ones.” Steve says, rolling his eyes at her. “Also, you weren’t even gone that long!”

Robin pulls up a stool, “Excuses, Steven.”

Turns out, there’s not that many shapes associated with turkey day, so after the obligatory pumpkin shape, and a surprisingly well-shaped turkey-looking blob, they make whatever else they feel like.

Robin uses a ruler she found in a drawer to fold some ridges into a circle shape, “It’s a pie, obviously.”, Steve uses a few strips to make what he says is an elephant, “Yeah, an elephant. These are the two ears and this is the trunk.”, Max uses two of the strips to make some sort of flower shape with five pointy petals, “A…poinsettia?” Eddie asks; “A demogorgon.” Steve and Max say at the same time. Ah., and Eddie spends his time linking a good few together to make the Hellfire demon.

“I hope this doesn’t get all blob-y.”

Steve looks over at his creation, “It shouldn’t, the dough holds up pretty well when it’s baked; that’s why you let it chill for a bit.”

He stands then, retrieving the saran-wrapped hunk of dough from the fridge and gets to work rolling it out.

Eddie watches the muscles in his arms bunch and pull, and, like a sap, thinks about how they’d feel wrapped around him. He likes hugs, okay? Sue him.

The four of them cut batch after batch after batch of cookies (each of them sneaking bites of the dough as they do), and by time they are baked and fully cooled, the sweet potatoes are in the oven, the stuffing is sitting done on the stove, there’s a sheet of rolls waiting to go in after the casserole, the others start to show up.

“Oh sweet, cookies!” Dustin’s finger immediately dunks into the bowl of frosting Steve just finished whipping up.

“Hey! Hands off, asshole, I still need to color some of that.

Steve passes Eddie a bowl of the stuff, a couple of drops of food coloring sitting on top. “Mix that up, will you?” I’m making the orange, that’s yellow.”

Eddie gives him a mock salute, “You got it boss.”

“Henderson, grab the sprinkles, you’re helping with these.”

The island is a disaster by the time they are done frosting the cookies. There’s colored sugar everywhere, loose M&Ms, broken pretzels, and there’s even a glob of red frosting hanging precariously from the underside of one of the far cabinet doors (somehow).

Each of the new arrivals grab up a couple of the cookies to decorate once they get in, adding their own goofy-looking additions to the heap.

Mike and Nancy are the last to arrive, toting a huge bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes, and they dig into the turkey soon after.

They eat and eat and eat, laughing and eating some more, that by the time anyone gets around to the cookies, the very outside of their frosting has hardened to a crust and the inside is still soft and sugary.

“Oh my god, Steve.” Eddie moans, “This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.”

Steve’s face flushes pink, but he smiles wide. “I’m glad you like them, Eds.”

“I need to take some home to Wayne.”

Steve passes him a tupperware container of their creations as he’s leaving, along with an index card with Steve’s distinct handwriting is scrawled across it; the recipe for the cookies.

Eddie gets home that night just before Wayne heads in for his shift. “Y’have a good day, son?” he asks, plucking out one of the cookies from the container Eddie holds open for him as they pass each other in the doorway.

He smiles wide, “Very..”

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acewritesfics · 1 year ago

Text

I Almost Lost You | JAY HALSTEAD

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Wife!Reader

Request: From Anon

Fic Type: Imagine

Prompt: "You think you can just push me away like that?”

Warnings: Mentions of being shot, surgery, crime.

Word Count: 849

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

Jay sat next to the hospital bed where Y/N is currently resting. His arms are laying on the bed, one of them clutching hers. She'd fallen asleep a little more than an hour before, both of them gripping each other's hands, fearful that if they let go, the other would disappear like she almost had.

Intelligence has been looking for a duo who were robbing businesses and killing anyone who got in their way. They claimed to be the next Bonnie and Clyde and went out in the same manner as the originals. Y/N was shot three times during the shootout a little less than 24 hours ago.

Despite his best efforts, Jay is unable to shake the visual of her lying there, her breathing and pulse growing weaker as he works, in complete fear of losing her, to stop her from bleeding out.

Y/N and Jay have been married for just over three months, and he has already nearly lost her. He bites his lower lip, fighting the negative thoughts that remind him he could still lose her, especially given their line of work.

“What’s going on inside that handsome head of yours?” Y/N’s raspy sleep filled voice, brings him out of his thoughts.

“How much I love you,” he tells her, thinking that now is not the time to hash out what he’s really thinking about. Though, he is always thinking about how much he loves her.

"Don't do that," she says gazing at him, drowsily. "You think you can just push me away like that?”

"I'm not trying to push you away, babe," he says giving her a soft smile. "I can't now that you're wearing my ring."

"You know what I mean," she sighs. "I'm so doped on pain meds, it didn't come out right."

"I know what you meant," he assures her, gently squeezing her hand.

"Don't go quiet on me, Jay."

"I almost lost you," he starts telling her what he's thinking and feeling. "We've been married for three months. We’re just starting our lives together and I could have lost you. I almost lost you."

“It’s part of the job,” she whispers, weakly squeezing his hand.

“Don’t… don’t say that,” he tells her, frowning. He knew she was being nonchalant about it right now because of the drugs but it didn’t help how he was feeling or the thoughts clouding his head. “Not right now.”

“I’m sorry,” her lips pout as she lets out a quiet sob, tears building up on her eyes.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Jay tries to reassure her as he moves closer to the bed and brings her hand to his face, gently kissing her fingers where her rings usually sat. They had been taken off during her surgery so they wouldn’t end up damaged or lost. “You did nothing wrong. It’s their fault and mine for not being there to protect you.”

“You can’t be in two places at once,” she cries holding no resentment towards him like he seems to think he deserves.

“No but I’m your husband as well as your partner. It’s not only my job to have your back, it’s also my vow to you,” he stands up, leaning over her to wipe away the tears and kiss her gently. “You know, us being married, living together and all that, means you won’t be able to cheat recovery and come back to work earlier than the doctors order right.”

She can’t help the chuckle that escapes her lips, through the tears and sobs. “Yeah, but I have a brother-in-law who’s a doctor.”

“And I’m going to tell him if he tries to do you any favors so you can get back to work sooner, I’ll find something to arrest him on.”

“Yeah, you would do that.”

“You’re damn right I would,” he says and tells her, “Voight’s given me some time off so I can take care of you.”

“It’ll be a mini vacation,” she says giving him a weak smile.

“For you it might be,” he kisses her again before reaching into his pocket and pulling out her engagement and wedding bands. He slips them back on to her finger and brings her hand back up to his lips and kisses the same spot as before. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says letting go of his hand and carefully shifts over in the bed and pats the now empty spot next to her. “I don’t care what the doctors have to say, I need my husband with me tonight.” She adds before he can protest.

Kicking off his shoes, he climbs onto the bed next to her, making sure to not hurt her even more. Careful of her injuries, she finds a comfortable position for them to lay in and places the blankets over him.

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to drift back to sleep unlike Jay who remains awake until he can no longer keep his eyes open, afraid that if he does fall asleep, that he’ll open his eyes when he awakens and she’ll be gone.

TAGGED: LINK TO TAG LIST SIGN-UP ABOVE.

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader

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miss-tc-nova · 2 months ago

Text

With Reckless Choices - Leona Kingscholar x Reader Pt 5

Yes, I'm aware my premise descriptions suck. I don't know how to write these things without giving away the whole damn plot. Sorry.

Premise: Leona exposes some weak points

Words: 1,951

Music Inspirations: Forget You Now - Big Time Rush

~~~The Consequences of Petty~~~

Fists clench tight enough they might draw blood, not that I care. Right now, the only thing that matters is getting as far as I can away from the royalty. It takes every shred of self-control I have not to fly through the halls and slam my bedroom door behind me, but I manage. Though the lock clicks harshly.

Immediately, my hands reach beneath the mattress for my phone, his face lighting up the lockscreen. Even as the words blur in my sight, I tap away.

Instant regret sets in. I shouldn’t have sent those. However, before I have any chance of taking back my tantrum, I see the dots pending a response.

I really shouldn’t have done that, but it’s too late to take it back now. Pacing the room, I scramble to compose my frustration. But even as I do, another message comes.

He’s in the midst of typing more, but I do as he asks.

I know it’s not, yet I still have responsibilities. But I’ve also crossed a line that’s not easy to take back. The tears won’t stop dripping and the anger bubbling in my chest brings about pathetic hiccups.

Magic easily whisks me far away from my offenders, granting me instant access to the room of my lion. Immediately, I plop onto his bed, trying to focus on his remnant scent rather than the events leading to my impromptu visit.

Then Leona arrives, door nearly slamming shut and the lock taking hold.

“What happened?” Straight to the point.

I groan at the trouble I’ve cause. Wiping my face feels futile but I hate to have him see me like this. “It’s nothing. I just felt a little overwhelmed at the fitting and got put in my place. Honestly, by now one would think I’d be used to how they treat me.”

In my best efforts, I put on a smile. Leona does not return the sentiment. Instead, anger seethes off him. Reaching out, I let the man pull me back on my feet. He’s suspiciously quiet, but lets me step into his arms to hide my face and quell my resentment.

�� The next few hours pass in much better company. I dwell not on what happened but on this moment with Leona and, soon enough we’re up to our usual catty antics.

A hand lifts to cover my mouth as I laugh. “Active reform isn’t a term I would immediately associate with you. Sorry Leo.”

“Yeah yeah.”

His chin rests on my shoulder. Above Sunrise City, Leona and I peer across the night-addled capital of his country. From the balcony of his room, the wondrous city of civilization and wilderness begins to settle as lights set aglow across the land. It’s so vastly different from my own, but perhaps that’s why I find it so intriguing.

“But hell, Kifaji keeps riding me about making myself useful as a member of the royal family, then immediately shuts down whatever I say.”

“Well stuff that crochety old bird.” I love that baritone laugh in my ear. “I think you’d make a decent king.”

“’Decent?’”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Come now. You know you need someone to temper that ego of yours. Or at the very least convince you to get out of bed.”

“Oh yeah? And I bet you think that someone’s you, right?”

I can’t fight the smile on my lips.

His head bumps against mine. “Now who’s got an ego?”

“Probably still you.” Reflexively, I lean into his affection. “But I know you could do great things—whether or not you’re king. You could change lives for the better.”

“I’m not sure my ego is that big.”

I laugh. “It’s true. You changed mine.”

There’s a lapse in his response. Suddenly, my heart hitches. Leona’s nose skims my neck, goosebumps creeping across my skin as warm breath whispers against it. My fingers slide into his hair, encouraging his attention. However, at the feel of his fangs, kind fingers turn cruel, pulling him off.

“Leonaaa,” I warn lowly. A breathy growl retorts. “We talked about this: no marks.”

Retreat comes with a huff. “One of these days you’re gonna leave here marked head to toe.”

“Yeah right.” Turning in his grasp, I press a finger to his chest. “You, on the other hand, are free and clear to be marked.” That harlequin gaze closely follows the tongue that traces my lip. “I quite like the sound of that. Great and mighty Leona Kingscholar—marked as mine.”

“You’re outta yer mind.”

“Come now.” A line drawn from his collar to his jaw using my tongue causes tension in him. “Wouldn’t it be so lovely on that beautiful skin of yours. Let me show you my desire—just a taste of the things I want to do to you.”

Our proximity is the only reason I detect the quiver in his exhale. “You could at least fight fair.”

“Oh you can’t fool me. I bet you’re thrilled. You can’t wait to feel my mouth on you.” It’s his turn to bristle with goosebumps while my lips ghost across his neck. “Because I know you’re dying to know what I would do. Isn’t that right?”

Surprise and pride fuel my lust when the haughty man has no answer. So I make good on my words.

The feel of his hands digging into my back as I latch onto his neck is so gratifying. Spiced citrus fills my nose while my tongue presses against the spot I chose. This time, the shudder that escapes comes more noticeably. With each little movement, Leona’s body betrays his cool composure. Even his voice gives away his weakness with each pitiful whimper he fails to contain.

I could ride this high forever, coasting on the toxic fervor of having this man under my control. His strength, his power, his smarts, cunning, charm—his attention: all of it belongs to me. Everything I’ve ever wanted exists in this moment and I want more.

I really never had a chance.

My hold breaks, making way for my tongue to clean up the mess. Another shiver wracks his chest at the feeling. What’s left behind is a beautiful, violet stain against his olive skin. That mark along with his embarrassed expression—I couldn’t be more thrilled.

“What’s wrong, Leo,” I purr, tracing my work with a finger.

Ears flat, eyes clenched shut, Leona recomposes himself. When he turns on me again, I’m met with a gaze of burning hunger.

The rumble of his voice hits like a shot of adrenaline. “You’re gonna regret that.”

My lips quirk. “I’d never regret claiming you.”

His mouth descends on mine, that ravenous mouth devouring everything I offer and more. Lips crash together eagerly, stealing kiss after kiss. His tongue asks for no permission before finding its way into my mouth to claim all it can reach. Space no longer exists between us. That rapid thumping between us is no longer distinguishable and can only be described as our heartbeat. I thought that I wanted more, but Leona is demanding it.

However, greed breaks softer than it began. It appears that predator’s façade is wavering though that spark of desire holds true. Hot breath mingles together, not a word breaking through. His brows furrow, almost conveying pain. That grip has only gotten tighter, even his tail coiling around my leg.

I never could’ve prepared for his admission.

“I love you.”

My mouth hangs open, struck speechless.

It’s hard to believe that this is the same man that so coyly convinced me to indulge in this taboo. All that haughty, smug attitude is gone, baring a brutal honesty that I’m sure he’s never shown before. My heart may just burst.

Finally, some of that elation manages to respond.

“I love you too.”

Rather than another kiss, Leona pulls me flush against him in the purest embrace.

This is where I belong.

A buzzing sends my stomach lurching. Immediately, a hand flies to my pocket to silence the alarm. Disappointment immediately washes over us. I really don’t want to.

“I should go…”

His face nuzzles against my hair. “Or you could stay.”

“I can’t. I have to attend dinner with some potential trade ambassadors. You know that.”

His heavy sigh cracks at my heart.

“Besides, I believe you also have some ambassadorial duties to attend to, right? Something with the Scalding Sands?”

A groan is muffled in my shoulder.

“Come on, Leona.” I encourage with an affection head bump.

Reluctantly, the lion pulls away, his touch lingering against my skin until I’m physically out of reach. I already miss it. Poorly contained woe rolls off him, seeping into my weakened heart. This is always the worst part of our relationship.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Thorough hands straighten my clothes. In some attempt to regain contact I’m sure, Leona reaches out to fix my hair for me. When his hand rests against my cheek, I smile.

“Good night.”

With a dip of his head, one last kiss graces my forehead.

“Night.”

It takes sheer willpower for me to turn away from the prince. In my usual fashion, I draw a line through the air. Sparks of magic trace my movement, parting space to insert a doorway to somewhere far away. Though my heart yearns to stay, I step through the portal into what is my bedroom.

I peer back through the magic. Regret sits on his face as he watches. Unfortunately, this isn’t something I can change. Still, I hate to see him like this. With my hopes, I blow a kiss, elated to draw even the smallest simper from my surly lion before the portal closes.

With that, I hastily strip of my clothes and bustle into the shower where I scrub my skin nearly raw. Wild wind whips across my skin in my haste to dry off and I pull on a new set of clean clothes. Once I’m clean and presentable, I pick up the bottle of perfume gifted to me and proceed to spritz generously.

Lastly, before I leave the room, I retrieve the velvet box from the nightstand. Inside sits an intricate silver ring twisted with black meant to resemble briar thorns. At the top, a glittering peridot nestles among the strands. On my finger I slip the ring, just as someone knocks on my door.

The usual guard, Silver, calls through the door. “Your highness, dinner is nearly ready and our guests are here.”

“Thank you.”

I follow the royal guard down to the dining hall where chattering can be heard. Introductions give names to faces and nations.

As we make our way to the dining hall, one of our guests addresses me.

“That is a lovely perfume you’re wearing,” she compliments.

I rest a hand against the arm of the man at my side. “Thank you. I’m told it’s made from the briar roses grown in the castle’s very own garden. It was a gift.”

“No doubt from your wonderful fiancé.”

How easy it is to wear this comedy mask. “Of course.”

The dragon speaks. “You’ve been wearing it quite a lot recently.”

The slightest fear burns in my ears. “Unfortunately, I lost the bottle for some time in my closet and only just found it again.”

I didn’t lose it.

“I see.” He glances me up and down just once. “Then no doubt you’ll be needing more soon.”

“Oh yes, that would be much appreciated.”

~~~~~

Part 6

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

#gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #with reckless choices

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kaminocasey · 1 year ago

Text

We Were Golden Part 5

Summary: You get to Cut and Suu's. Tension between you and Hunter starts to rise.

Pairing: Ex!Crosshair x Reader / (Eventual?) Hunter x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut in a dream (oral f receiving), angst

WC: 4.2K

A/N: Wow, it's been a hot minute since I've updated and I'm so sorry. That season 3 trailer really put my ass in gear, huh? Lol.

We Were Golden Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM

(pictures from Pinterest)

“Fuck, you’re so pretty…” Crosshair groans softly in your ear as he teases your clit with his slender fingers, with you pushed up against the fresher sink.

Letting out a soft whimper, you catch his lips in a passionate kiss, needing more of him.

You and Crosshair have been together for three months and within those three months, there hadn’t been a day that the two of you hadn’t found yourselves like this in the fresher, locked away, enjoying each other. In the midst of war and battles, all you could do was cling to these little moments.

He drops to his knees, latching his perfect lips to your cunt, determined to make you cum harder than the night before and the night before that and so on.

“Cross-” You gasp, gripping his silver hair tightly, desperately.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises you, slipping a long, slender finger into you. “Want you to cum on my face just like this.”

You wake up with tears in your eyes, sitting up to wipe them with your sleeve. When you look up, you find Hunter sitting in his bunk across from yours, watching you. The look on his face is of concern but he’s clearly trying to give you space.

“You… okay?” He asks you, but you shrug with a sniffle. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

What was there to say?

You left Crosshair back on Kamino… you’re a terrible partner… how could you live with yourself? He would’ve never done that to you. Right?

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Hunter murmurs across to you, softly.

He’s always been able to read your mind and usually, it’s endearing. But right now, you’re still slightly resentful of him, even though you really don’t want to be.

“No, I suppose not…” You stare at him.

But he reads your mind again. Your eyes still say It’s yours. Even though you don’t really believe that.

“I know…” He nods. “I’m sorry…”

“I know you are.” You sigh. “It’s just… hard.”

He puts his feet down on the ground and leans forward to you, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“We’re going to get him back, okay? I just had to get the kid out of there.” Hunter murmurs, glancing down the hall at Omega, who’s asleep against Gonky.

“I get it…” You sit up, your legs resting against his as you lean on your forearms as well. “I really do…”

The two of you are closer now, looking at each other. It’s almost comforting, after sleeping in the empty bunk, missing Crosshair’s presence. But then, you’re hit with the memory that he shot at his own brothers… tried to stop you from getting to safety. This new him… what if it’s permanent?

“I just…” You look down at your hands, clasping them together. “I miss him… and it’s weird… because that person we left behind… was not Crosshair. And I keep thinking… what if we can’t get him back to normal?”

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” He pats your hand and you place your other hand over his, nodding. “I think Crosshair was sort of right… Maybe I’ve been making bad calls-”

“Stop.” You squeeze his hand, catching his eye so that he looks at you. “You’re doing what you think is best for this squad. I told you a long time ago that I would follow you to the ends of the galaxy, Hunter. You’re a good leader. A great one. And there’s no one else I’d rather follow.”

You don’t miss the way he glances at your lips, but you choose to ignore it.

“Would you really follow me to the ends of the galaxy?” He smiles, softly.

You roll your eyes, smirking, bumping your knee against his. “You know I would.”

You hear Echo clearing his throat in the doorway and as you look up at him, you and Hunter separate as if you’ve been caught in some compromising position.

“What is it?” Hunter asks, standing up.

“Should I move the kid?” He looks down at Omega behind him.

“I’ve got her.” Hunter steps over Wrecker’s leg and scoops her up, carrying her to his bunk and laying her down gently.

You ignore the tug in your chest at the gentle action and lean against the wall, crossing your arms.

Hunter steps back into the doorway, looking down at her, chuckling. “It’s a first, isn’t it?”

“Inspecting every corner of the ship finally tired her out.” Echo smirks.

“Yeah, she’s curious. I’ll give her that.” Hunter glances at you again.

“Hunter, she’s a child. What are we going to do with her?” Echo whispers with a sigh.

You’d all been through a lot over the last 24 hours, but you can’t help the attachment you’ve already formed with Omega. She deserves better than what she was given on Kamino. You could all give her that… But also, you know that this life that you and the Batch have is incredibly dangerous for a child. Obviously, she needs someone and she’s very clearly already attached to you guys as well. Especially Hunter.

Hunter looks to you as if you could have all the answers but you just give him an encouraging smile, knowing he’ll make the right decision.

“We are coming up on Saleucami.” Tech announces.

Hunter joins Tech up in the cockpit, leaving you and Echo in the bunk room doorway. Echo gives you a strange look and you raise your eyebrows.

“What?” You ask.

He shrugs, glancing at Hunter, knowing Hunter can hear. You’re sure he’ll bring it up later when you land.

“You wanna wake her up or you want me to?” Echo asks.

“I’ve got her.” You start toward Omega but she’s already sitting up, rubbing her eyes.

“Are we there already?” She asks and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah we are.” You reply.

She immediately bounces up, ready at the hatch, but Hunter pulls her back.

“Whenever we land, I go first, so I can make sure it’s safe, alright?” He asks her, softly.

She nods up at him, her eyes already filled with wonder, as Tech lands the Marauder. Hunter still hasn’t told you who’s on Saleucami that they know, so you’re a little anxious, even though you trust him fully.

Hunter hits the hatch button and it comes down, the steps ascending with it. He walks down the hatch first with Echo behind him, and then Tech, Wrecker, and you. Omega is the last to exit the ship and when you turn around to tell her to follow close with you, you find her shielding her eyes from the sunlight, clearly having never been used to such light before on Kamino. When she gets used to the light, you watch the wonder fill her eyes once again and your chest tightens.

“Huh? What’s with her?” Wrecker asks, confused.

All of the guys turn to look and watch Omega inhale the fresh air and then step on dirt for the very first time. You just can’t help but smile as she kneels down to the ground to sift it through her fingers.

“Woah.” Omega looks at it falling from her hand, with wonder. “What is this?”

“That would be dirt.” Tech speaks up and you grin.

You’ve wondered a few times what it would be like to have kids. Though, you were never fully sure if you wanted them. But looking at Omega experiencing things for the first time, brings you to a realization that maybe one day… it wouldn’t be so bad.

You and Crosshair had talked about your futures many times, but never about children. Would he ever want them?

What about Hunter?

Wow. Where did that come from? You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your head as you look around you.

Omega lets out a soft gasp. “It’s amazing.”

When she stands up, she giggles and kicks it around a little bit, sending it up into the air around her. You and Hunter smile at each other before looking back down at her as she joins the group.

You notice Hunter quickly glance up at the sky when some thunder rumbles.

“Come on. Let’s get moving.” He nods toward some fields.

As you start walking through the fields, you keep a safe eye on Omega as she finds wonder in every stalk and plant and insect. Her curiosity is a breath of fresh air, honestly.

When you glance forward, you find Hunter’s eyes on you and you go warm in the face and look up at the sky. Things were so easy a couple days ago. Now everything is so turned around and different. You’re supposed to be able to handle the biggest changes. To adapt. To survive.

You hear Echo call your name and tell you to watch out. But due to your mind being elsewhere, you don’t comprehend what he’s saying in time and step into an unfortunately deep mud puddle.

“Karking hell…” You groan as you find yourself waist deep in the puddle, which just turns out to actually be a hole in the ground.

Echo and Wrecker immediately burst into laughter. You start to throw an obscene gesture at them but then remember the kid and just settle for a glare instead. With a grumble, you reach for your pack and toss it to Hunter who sets it to the side and starts to reach for your hand. You ignore it and instead crawl your way out. Wrecker ignores your protests and helps you to stand.

Tech scans you with his data pad. “Nothing seems to be hurt or bruised.”

“Just her ego.” Echo teases.

That time you do throw up your finger, walking ahead of the group, despite not being entirely sure where you’re going. You can practically feel Hunter’s gaze on you now.

“Anyway, this friend of yours, what’s he doing all the way out here?” Echo asks.

“Hiding. That’s what deserters do.” Tech informs him.

A deserter?

“Staying off the radar’s not our specialty, but he’s been doing it for years.” Hunter speaks up.

“And you trust a deserter?” Echo seems unsure.

He’s always been a loyal soldier to the Republic. Of course he’d be wary of a deserter. But before you can point out that you’re all technically deserters now, Tech speaks up.

“Why not? We’re all deserters now.” Tech says what’s on your mind and you nod in agreement.

Hunter speeds up a little bit in front of you, putting up his fist for you all to stop, just as you’re about to point out the trip wire. He even stops Omega as she was about to keep walking.

“What are we looking at?” Omega looks up at him.

“A booby trap.” Hunter informs her, but Wrecker steps over it.

“Single trip wire.” He chuckles. “That’s cute.”

Just as he says that, he triggers a second trap sending a circle of battle droids pointing guns at Wrecker flying up around him. You quickly pull Omega behind you, like it’s already a reflex to protect her.

“WOAH!” Wrecker lets out a yell and quickly pulls his blaster off his back and shoots down the droids.

“Easy, Wrecker!” Hunter shouts, trying to get the giant to settle down just as you realize the droids aren’t active.

Thank the Maker.

“W-was that me?” He asks, confused.

Before anyone can say anything else, you all hear a female voice and then turn to look toward it.

“What do we have here? More clones who have lost their way.” A pink Twi’lek woman and a man with her are pointing a rifle at your group.

“It’s been a while fellas.” The man puts his gun down.

You quickly realize the man is a clone and you look to Hunter for some sort of an explanation. How do they know these two people?

“You look like you could use a shower.” The woman smiles at you, eyeing the dried mud.

“Yeah, you got a hole in your field out that way.” You tell them, back behind you.

“Sorry about that, I’ve been meaning to fill it in.” The man tells you as you start walking toward their house.

When they let you inside, the guys all gather around the table and Hunter starts to introduce you while Omega starts to check everything out. You don’t blame her one bit. This small house has to be intriguing to someone who’s spent their entire life in a Kaminoan facility. This place, which is full of life and warmth, is basically the complete opposite of Kamino.

“I see a few new faces.” The woman says after getting everyone a drink.

Hunter introduces you, Echo, and Omega and then the two hosts as Cut and Suu. Omega waves up at Suu, politely, and Suu waves back.

“Pleased to meet you.” She tells you all.

“Ma’am.” Echo nods, politely, and you can’t help but smile.

When you met Echo back in the 501st, he was quite smooth with the ladies. Since his incident, he’s been more refined and not as outgoing. It was also really hard on him when he learned about his twin, Fives, who was basically joined at his hip. They did everything together. And that included going out and finding women together. They were something, that’s for sure.

Cut looks up suddenly. “Where’s Crosshair?”

The guys all look at you and you get a soft pang in your chest. You and Hunter make eye contact for the first time since before you fell in that mud hole and he sighs.

“It’s complicated.” Hunter tells Cut, pulling his gaze away from you.

“Sounds familiar.” Cut smiles, obviously noticing the look between you and Hunter. “Rex told us about the clone troopers turning against the Jedi.”

Rex?

“You talked to Rex? When?” Echo asks, more eagerly.

Your brain goes back to the 501st. You could never imagine them killing Anakin Skywalker nor his former padawan Ahsoka Tano. Last you’d heard some of the 501st branched off to help her and a group of Mandalorians. You know that yours and Echo’s brains must be on the same wavelength because you both share a look of concern.

Rex would never hurt either of them. Right?

“Well, he passed through yesterday.” Cut tells Echo.

“Where’d he go?” Echo asks.

“Didn’t ask.” Cut shrugs. “He was going on about some behavioral implant.”

Omega joins the table, next to Hunter. “He must mean the inhibitor chip.”

“The what?” Hunter asks her.

“Inhibitor chips. The Kaminoans implanted them in the clones to modify their behavior.” She tells him.

You look at all of the guys, confused. Inhibitor chips. So that means if that’s what’s making Crosshair act this way, it can be removed… right?

“Tech, you said the regs were programmed but you never mentioned a chip.” Hunter looks over at Tech.

“How else did you think it worked?” Tech looks up from his data pad.

Suddenly, the front door bursts open and two small children come running in.

“Mom! Dad!” They yell. “There’s a ship outside!”

“Shaeeah, Jek!” Wrecker yells, excitedly. “Remember me?”

They both yell “Uncle Wrecker!” as Wrecker scoops them up in a hug. It warms your heart how good Wrecker is with kids. You suppose it’s probably got something to do with the fact that he can be like a big kid himself sometimes. But the fact that they’re calling him “uncle Wrecker” means that they all know these people well.

The girl, Shaeeah, turns toward Omega. “Who are you?”

Omega suddenly gets shy, peering out from behind Hunter’s chair.

“Omega.” She tells them.

“We never see kids around here.” Shaeeah informs her, grabbing her hand. “Come with us.”

The kids start ushering Omega toward the door and Omega looks back at Hunter, as if for reassurance that it’s alright. Hunter gives her the softest smile and a nod to let her know that it’s okay. With that, they drag Omega out to go play and Suu turns toward you.

“I suppose you would like that shower now.” She smiles.

“That would be great.” You smile, gratefully, taking your pack with you.

She grabs you an extra pair of clothes that she said she’d had lying around for a long time and didn’t need anymore and you thank her again as she shows you to the fresher.

You shred your muddy clothing and hop in the shower, immediately appreciating the warm water. You let it run over your body for a moment before starting to scrub.

Once the grime is off of you and your hair is clean, you feel instantly better. You get out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you. You put your shampoo and body wash back into your pack kit and pull out your brush, wiping the fog on the mirror down with the towel and then hanging it over the bar on the wall.

You turn around and look in the mirror, seeing yourself for the first time since throwing up in the fresher back in the barracks on Kamino. You feel like you look different. Maybe it's because you aren’t necessarily who you were the other day anymore. So much has happened in such a small time frame, that would surely change anyone.

You put the clothes that Suu gave you on, and notice it feels a bit snug. She’s obviously a bit smaller than you. Whatever. If you get uncomfortable, you’ll just borrow from one of the guys.

As you walk out of the fresher, you see Hunter and Cut by the door. Hunter is in civilian clothing that Cut must have given him. You both just stand there and stare at each other because wow, he looks good with his arms showing. It’s not a sight that many get to see all that often due to the black bodysuits that GAR keep the clones in underneath their armor, and also because of said armor.

Hunter’s eyes sweep down your body, taking in your form and he has to physically tear his eyes away from you by looking at Cut, who’s of course giving him a knowing look.

“We’re uh… heading into town. To book Cut, Suu, and the kids a shuttle offworld.” He tells you.

You nod. “Alright. Be safe.”

He smiles, softly. “We will.”

When they leave, you notice Suu’s eyes on you.

“Uh hi.” You clear your throat, sticking your pack with the rest of the Batch’s.

“Are you two-?” She smirks as she takes your clothes and throws them in a washer tub.

“Ha. No, absolutely not.” You wave her off and go sit on the couch.

She joins you on the couch, resting her arm on the back of it, grinning at you. “But you want to.”

You shake your head, glancing over at the guys who aren’t even paying attention to you. Echo’s keeping an eye on Omega in the doorway. Tech’s nose is buried in his data pad and Wrecker is passed out in the recliner, mouth gaping open and snoring.

“No. It’s not like that.” You shake your head. “I’m with or… was with… Crosshair.”

“Oh…” She murmurs. “I apologize. I just saw the way that you two…”

You shrug your shoulders. “Hunter’s my best friend. We look out for each other.”

“And what happened to Crosshair?” She asks.

That pang in your chest is starting to become familiar and you really don’t care much for it. You realize though that she’s probably asking because she knows him and is genuinely curious.

“He chose this new… “Empire”. Or I suppose the inhibitor chip did…” You murmur, looking at the rug on the floor.

“And you still love him.”

“Of course.”

There’s no question. He may have broken up with you, but you’re still always going to love him.

“But you have feelings for Hunter.”

It’s not a question that she’s asking. She’s telling you she sees right through your shit. But she’s not being rude about it. You don’t know what to say because what you and Hunter have is something too complicated, yet also easy.

Complicated for others, easy to the two of you.

You’re sitting in the barracks by the window, watching the ocean rage on angrily, your knees drawn up and your chin resting on them. As always, you’ve never once seen a calm Kaminoan Sea.

You hear the doors slide open and shut and you assume it’s Crosshair come to apologize about your fight you had. Which have been becoming more frequent. And desperate to follow Hunter’s rules about it not affecting the group, you went out for some alone time on the Marauder and Crosshair got offended.

Which is not only stupid, but also hypocritical because the man loves his alone time, which you’d pointed out and it only escalated things, making him storm out of the Marauder.

“Hey.” Hunter’s voice is suddenly next to you as he sits in the window with you, but leaning his back on the window.

“Hey.” You look at him.

“Crosshair mentioned you’d had an… argument?” He raises an eyebrow.

You shrug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers.

“What, are you trying to be my therapist?” You quip.

He chuckles. “Just a friend.”

And that’s what Hunter became. Your best friend.

After a while, Hunter and Cut finally return and Echo nods for Hunter to follow him outside. Which seems strange to you. Normally Echo isn’t usually shy about saying what’s on his mind in front of people.

Unfortunately, your curiosity quickly gets the best of you and you decide to follow them once you think they’re far enough away. You watch as they head into the barn and quietly make your way that way so you can at least hear what they’re talking about. Being out of the know doesn’t sit well with you, that’s how you justify it being alright that you’re about to eavesdrop.

“I heard her talking to Suu… even Suu could practically see right through the two of you.” Echo tells Hunter as you lean up against the hale bay by the barn doors.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look… I’m not saying don’t pursue her… But… give her time to get over Crosshair. We can’t afford any fuck ups right now. If you’re both not focusing-”

Hunter sighs and you can already tell he’s rubbing his hands down his face in exasperation. “I am giving her time, Echo. I’m giving her space. Hell, I’d even give her the entire galaxy if she asked for it. Since when are you so nosy?”

Your chest tightens at Hunter’s serious tone when he says that last part.

“Since I heard the hurt in her voice, and saw it in her eyes when they brought up Crosshair.”

Hunter’s apparently not the only one who can read you like a book. But Echo’s right. You need time. It’s not like you can just move on from Crosshair in a day. You spent every single day together for a year.

“You think I didn’t?” Hunter snips.

Deciding you can’t handle anymore talk about Crosshair, you start to head back to the house but end up tripping over a smaller hale bay, cursing automatically as you fall to the ground. You try to yank yourself up quickly, but are met with two confused clones, staring down at you.

“Uh, hey. Looking for Omega.” You cough.

Echo snorts and holds out his hand to help you up. “Right.”

You take his hand and Hunter rights you, holding a hand on your shoulder.

“You two should talk.” Echo lets go of your hand and shoots Hunter a look and walks off.

Hunter guides you down to the hay bale, sitting on it next to you, watching Omega as she plays with Shaeeah and Jek. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a little bit. And for a moment, it feels normal again.

“Echo’s right. We should talk.” Hunter murmurs.

“I hate when he’s right.” You sigh.

He lets out a chuckle and then looks at you. His eyes briefly fall to your lips before settling on your eyes.

After a moment, he gets back up and starts to pace a little bit. It’s clear that he’s anxious about whatever conversation has to be had between the two of you. He finally stops to look down at you and then looks at the barn and goes into it, knowing you’ll follow him. Because that’s what you and Hunter do, apparently.

You could ask for the galaxy and he would give it to you, and you would follow him to the ends of it.

What does that mean?

He turns to look at you, leaning forward on the table. You stand across from him, crossing your arms.

“Just talk to me, Hunter.” You murmur, softly. “Please…”

He opens his mouth to speak but Tech’s voice falls over Hunter’s comm requesting both of your presences back at the house. Hunter lets out an annoyed grunt.

“On our way.” Hunter pulls the comm up and talks into it, never breaking eye contact with you.

Whatever the conversation was, it’ll have to be put on hold for now. Which, judging from the way that Hunter’s looking at you, is probably for the best.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

#We Were Golden #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fic #the bad batch fic

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