#lloyd thinking he was the only one left

[berryblu-soda]

yall think the team has started to go numb to losing someone by now? its happened so many times (jay´s had it the worst oh gosh)

an odd sort of numbness from knowing all too well this is exactly what theyve signed up for, a feeling hollow and cold but also eerly calm, worry, restlessness bubbling beneath everything

but the need duty to keep moving, keep fighting, you still have a world to protect (no time to fall apart, use the pressure to keep yourself together)

make their sacrifice count, and pray that if they come back, theyre still recognizable...

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[lightning-chicken]

do you ever think about how close the previous generation of elemental masters were with each other. how they probably went camping together, showed up at restaurants asking for a table of 14 together, took group photos together where there’s always one person who blinks. do you ever think about how the only one left to teach the next generation was wu. how did they lose each other so quickly? do you ever think about the gut punch garmadon felt showing up at the tournament to find the children nieces cousins grandchildren of his friends and not the friends themselves. the life of an elemental master is fleeting. he knows this. and yet losing another generation - another new family - is just as painful as it was the first time.

do you ever think about lloyd thumbing through the pages of his uncle’s journals, cole blowing the dust off photos from the box marked “lilly” in his father’s attic, zane running his fingers over the space where his power core used to be, kai and nya having their bi-monthly dinner with their parents where maya laughs as ray tells stories about people they haven’t seen in decades. do you ever think about how jay’s friends know more about his birth mother than he does. and none of them ever realise. do you ever think about the merge and how the way things used to be is ending. powers fade and new generations rise to take up the mantle. the life of an elemental master is fleeting, yes. but the lives of a group of friends who have fought for each other through thick and thin are not.

[youaremusic1900]

DESPERATE FICTIVE CALL & RANT!

This is a call & a rant. One of my system mates, A US tour Love Never Dies 'based' Mr. Y, has posted in here before & has been ignored, so he made & has been reblogging every day on our account, & I'll do the same if I must. I'm also an Andrew Lloyd Webber 'based' Phantom, but the 1st musical only. Ben Lewis, West End, 'based'. Christine was 'based' off Kelly Mathieson. Mr. Y & I are among the few single people left, & we're hurting! Even the couples in system are upset; they can't have dates etc.! All we want is a partner system, &/or someone we can all be friends with! I myself am really struggling with my sexuality; I don't know if I'm gay or bi, but I, like the other men here, are screwed because the body is female! We keep getting into relationships where we're gaslit & verbally abused; even just with FRIENDS! Are we doomed to, as another system mate said, " 'The few single people left in our system say 'single af' sucks & hate it; they wonder if anyone will have an outside relationship, or from an outsider perspective, "I'm dating myself".' A friend said we're the healthiest system they've ever met! Do we have a sign that says 'I was constantly abused for 19 years; do it to me some more!'? We don't think having friends &/or lovers that respect us is too much to ask! Body will be 33 on October (2024)!

~Lewis

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[kamisama1kiss]

How would they react to you kissing them on the cheek as a bye + they have a crush on you {Ninjago addition}

Heyyy... I am back 😚 after almost a month without posting. Sorry 😭🙏 I keep forgetting how to write because of school, but I am trying my best to post as often as I can!! Writersblocks should not be a thing 🙅‍♀️ (P.s: PLEASE (I am begging) request something from Sally Face or genshin)

~~~

Lloyd - His sloutched posture turned to a straight back immediately, having been caught off gourd but not displeased with the attention he received. Finally this boy was thinking about something that wasnt being a hero and saving ninjago. Small boyish smile reached even as he tried to act cool, seeing as you reached out of sight for him his ears popped into a hot pink, and even his face was hot to the touch.

Jay - Only laughed a little after like nothing but felt as if he was on cloud nine, his heart beating quickly in his chest even with his 'Stay cool' facade that Kai had tried to teach him into doing. After you had left him he was giggly and touching where your lips had just briefly touched his cheek, celebrating to himself.

Kai - The ego of this man went through the sun, his usual smirk had formed into a more genuine smile. It felt odd having someone show interest in him as usually it was he who always did, it made him feel warm(er). Definitely let it get a little to his head for the rest of the day.

Zane - He had the least reaction, but the butterflies in his stomach had appeared yet again. The tiniest smile on spread on his face as he watched you leave, feeling accomplished and appreciated even from the small action of affection from you.

Cole - Definitely the kind of guy to not give it too much thought in the moment, but rather thinking of it for the rest of the day. It's not that he didn't want it more or less the fact he didn't expect it and far from it. A secret he would keep for himself only.

Nya - Shocked for the first few seconds after, but nonetheless she enjoyed it, taking it as a hint to start showing her interest with you (even though you might have already cought on). Feeling her palms being a tad bit more clammy than usually for the a while rest of the evening.

Morro - Scoffing after as he crossed his arms, shaking his head. He was in denial about his feelings, and you've only made it worse for him. His heart would've been beating fast if he still had one. After his experience of being a ghost, he didn't feel much, but that was the most warmth he'd felt in a long time on the inside.

P.I.X.A.L - Dose not register as an affection and question it, not used to being shown like this. Definitely went and searched up about this later and found out what the potential meaning could be she was happy, to say the least.

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

[sketchalicious]

doomed au timeline thing? idrk

uhh okay so . i saw that the doomed au kinda popped off n i figured i'd go into a bit more depth for fun so i doodled out this crappy comic thing. i think i saw a homestuck comic do something similar LOL.

im gonna give like. aftermath of the ninja's deaths and such for the sake of clarity , since i know this is just an angsty clusterbump.

Kai: The real ignition for Lloyd's downfall. The staff was destroyed moments before the transformation ritual by the green ninja himself. In Lloyd's mind, his friend would return to normal. But he was met with something else as Kai desperately took the shards and ran away instead, too far gone into his ego and insanity. Returning home they remain the same in quantity, with Lloyd and Nya heartbroken, and Zane blaming himself.

Cole: He acted as the stable rock of the group. He brought the ninja back to their high spirits again, acting as a replacement flame for Kai to reunite his team. He even began the trend of looking for the missing ninja, with hope they were still out there. Yet despite being the very reason they stabilized, no one seemed to realize he disappeared. Instead they suddenly felt lost, like they were missing something. The grief returned, and the dots never connected.

Zane: His disappearance set the team on course for failure. With him, Asphera never explained where she had banished him, and the others were left to believe he was really, truly gone this time. He acted as the caretaker for the group, tying them together once more as he tried to bring back the joy they lost through menial tasks and the small details of the world. Even back to when Kai disappeared, Lloyd could be a leader with his help. With the last light in the tunnel gone, no one had any more confidence to step up.

Nya: Jay and Lloyd's breaking point. Without her, they lost their drive to keep searching. Her disappearance plays the same as canon, becoming one with the sea. Though she was less hesitant now, understanding that this was just fate, that the team wasn't meant to survive. If that was the case, she'll go out with a bang, knowing that with her gone they would understand too. At least she knew they would be safe for now.

Lloyd: His disappearance happened long after he recognized his Oni form. After having to fight the overlord alone, he went on a downwards spiral. Jay couldn't be there, and frankly, Wu couldn't get through to him like Garmadon did. Lloyd hated the idea of fate. He felt too, like Nya, that the team wasn't meant to last. As such, in his last effort to feel control, he caved into what came easy.

Pixal: Like Zane did in canon after Nya, she turned off her emotion meter. She knew some of the ninja could be saved, and she knew she had to stop grieving in order to even try. In a frustrated effort, she attempted to bring the ninja to her level, only to blame herself for Lloyd's snap. After realizing she couldn't do much for a grieving Jay, she leaves to find the others.

Jay: Who knows where he is. Wu entered his quarters to find only a pair of nunchaku, and his gi laying on his pillow. Maybe he joined Pixal, maybe he existed as a criminal like Lloyd now. All Wu knew is he lost his last student and the last defender of Ninjago. It's likely Jay quit, afraid of becoming next in fate's cruel hand. He'd only learn after the merge.

okay thats it lmao. i might add more ideas in the future but im not creative enough to plot it out properly gO NUTS

[kindaasrikal]

I like to think that sometimes the ninja have elemental accidents that makes them deal with the wrath of Wu. I also like to think that sometimes those accidents actually help them.

Kai: starts to uncontrollably shoot fire from his mouth, and in a mission where they need to light a bunch of pedestals near the same time, it really comes in handy.

Zane: can’t help but freeze things each time he touches it, and in summer best believe everyone is clinging onto him for that refreshing ice to cover their skin.

Nya: When tied up and captured with the release button behind her, Nya is awfully thankful that for the past week her hair has been incredibly heavy with water and will not dry, since now its heavy enough for her smack the button with.

Cole: keeps making rocks float in the air, and has found a new past time making them spin around someone’s head each time they get a concussion. He likes shaping them into dumb stuff too. He also specifically does it around villains, so when they realise them in their confusion he can throw the floating rocks directly at their foreheads.

Jay: becoming a lightning rod is one thing, Jay being really worried as he shakes Lloyd who is slowly dying before accidentally electrocuting him, getting yelled at for doing it, only for Lloyd to shoot up and start breathing again is another.

Lloyd: When Lloyd can’t stop glowing green, he becomes an oversized flashlight when they have to go on a mission in a deep, dark cave. Lloyd is terrified like a lil baby since he has to lead and keeps screeching each time any noise is made. No Lloyd that wasn’t your father it was a rat.

Bonus+

Wu: once kept creating things out of his hands and couldn’t stop. Mystake and the Fsm loved it since he kept making tea cups out of his hands. Mystake swears that that was the first time she had gotten so much business.

Garmadon: kept shooting destruction beams out of his hands when he was younger and would have to keep his hands as fists so the Fsm wouldn’t realise. After being sent on an errand to the town they regularly visit, he accidentally opens his hand and shoots a beam at a house. Instead of getting yelled at by the people surrounding it, the people with yellow hats turned out to be construction workers who were tasked to break down the house for a new one to be built. They were literally just complaining about how long it would take when Garmadon shot it down to dust. The Fsm got ten letters the next day asking for Garmadon’s help.

Morro: once saw someone struggling to breath and panicked, cover their mouth, and after the the past week of accidentally making the wind stronger or weaker where the training grounds was destroyed multiple times and Wu had to tie everything floatable down, Morro accidentally became an oxygen mask as he pushed and pulled the air from the person periodically. After the person began to breathe properly again, Morro burst into tears because he thought they were struggling to breathe because of him. Wu had to sit him down and explain exactly what had happened. Now, in the present, Morro likes to make people shut up by taking away their breath for a second.

Euphrasia: once couldn’t stop making everything float before she got dragged into helping people move stuff around since she made it easier. She keeps having old grandmas asking her to carry stuff around and help renovate homes. She’s gotten sick of hearing ‘a little to the left- ohhh no more to the right!’.

Sora: kept accidentally breaking things and once broke some rich guys toaster. She then proceeded to try fix it only for her powers to go haywire and make a toaster deluxe 5000 when it can fry, grill, and toast bread to perfection with added on butter. She had to block the guy five times after he kept asking for her fix his microwave.

Wyldfyre: she became super sweaty after over using her element only for Kai to realise that the only reason his fire was able to make the bottle he was holding blow up was because it was coated in sweat from Wyldfyre’s hand. They tested it out and whilst Wyldfyre’s flames and normal ones can’t make it blow (if her flames did she’d be blowing up 24/7 and normal flames aren’t strong enough), Kai is perfectly capable of making her sweat into bombs. Ghost Wu is not amused when he sees his monastery on fire.

Pixal and Arin begin to not only be sick of all the elemental accidents, but also appreciate them for their usefulness, since Arin likes to use Kai’s flaming mouth to help bake pies.

[kaisfruit]

Hello love! I love your posts so much and I was wondering if I could request a Cole smut one shot? I mean, I saw your head canons and you said you could go on for longer, girl please do!??

Starved | Cole x Fem!Reader

A/N; I DONT KNOW U TWO, BUT U TWO ANONS MWAH !!! I LOVE U GUYS! i wanted to go so in depth w cole cuz i am unbelievably attrracted to that man i aint afraid to admit it. also, neither of yall specified BUT! im going w fem!reader since u both came from the fem!reader hcs <3

warnings; nsfw under the cut <3, cunnilingus, size kink, pussy drunk cole, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it b4 u tap it yall), probably some typos/grammar mistakes cuz i am way too scared to ask anyone to read this beforehand, and uhh i think that's it!

word count; 4.4k (i may have gotten a bit carried away im sorry yall)

Dinner was a favorite time amongst the ninja. It was time to unwind, to have fun, and enjoy each other's company. You had been chatting idly to Lloyd, who sat to your right, for a majority of the time. He was a bit quieter compared to some of the others (full shade to Jay, Kai, Cole, and Nya) and it seemed as if the mundane practice of just a normal conversation was a great relaxer for the green ninja, so he was definitely one of your preferred dinner companions. That didn’t mean there wasn’t chaos going on around you guys. Jay, who was to your left, seemed to be in a full shouting argument with Kai who sat directly across from the blue ninja. The topic of their angry musings was unknown to you, but Lloyd kept making commentary on it every now and again which you would happily add onto.

Across from you sat Cole, then to his left was Nya, and the head of the table was occupied by Zane while opposite him on the other end sat Pixal. Zane seemed content to exist in the company of all of you, only chiming in when he felt like it was needed, but he and Nya were definitely whispering jokes to each other every now again between bites of their food. Pixal, you noticed, was actually jokingly joining in on Kai and Jay’s argument. She would add in one point that was completely absurd and it would cause the other two to blow up again. That robot could be devious when she really wanted to be.

Then there was Cole. You were surprised that he wasn’t also a part of the argument, but you suppose the topic of…maybe devil worship? You weren’t sure, but still, whatever it was didn’t seem to interest the earth ninja. To be fair, you knew the other was prone to getting entranced into whatever he was eating at the moment and Zane had done wonderfully with tonight’s dinner (as he always did) so it was understandable really. 

“And, yeah, I don’t know. I just don’t really understand why I’ve always got to be doing something.” Lloyd finished his story up and you nodded along, having listened intently the entire time. 

“I don’t know either man,” you shrugged as you took a sip of your water, “your shit is always getting rocked one way or another.” That caused a slight snort of amusement to exit the green ninja. “I mean, I would’ve already changed my government name and gone into hiding if I were in your shoes.”

Lloyd let out a sigh. “That’s the dream. I don’t know if I could do all of that. Couldn’t leave you guys behind at all. That’d suck big time. Ninjago should just get its shit together so we can have some slice of life anime lives.” You nodded enthusiastically at that idea.

“Ooo yeah. And then we could have like fun drama like…what outfit am I going to wear tomorrow or oh no my hair is so bad!” 

“Yes! You’re getting it.” Lloyd grinned. “I think I should get a cat.” His mind wandered constantly, so you were only slightly jarred by the sudden conversation change. “I’ve heard that their purrs do some sort of healing and I could for sure use some of that.”

“I think we’d all like having a cat around.” You added on. “They’re sort of independent, so it would be a good pet for our lifestyle.”

Lloyd was about to respond to you, y’know how conversations work, when all of a sudden Jay slammed his palms onto the table as the “argument” had escalated. It caused the table to shake and before you could stop it your water glass had fallen down and drenched your shirt. You let out a loud gasp which quickly caught the attention of everyone.

“Oh my God, [name], I’m so sorry!” Jay began profusely apologizing, scrambling about the table to find some napkins. Kai was howling with laughter just happy to not be the one who fucked something up. Lloyd was a bit in shock, Zane and Nya had both gotten up to grab some towels from the kitchen with Pixal not far behind, and Cole seemed to be frozen. You were too caught up in the water seeping through your clothes to notice, but the ninja sat opposite you seemed to have his eyes locked onto you, his body tense.

“Jay, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured as you stood up, Cole’s eyes following the movement carefully, “I’ll just go get changed. It’s no big deal.” You tried giving the blue ninja a comforting smile, but you could tell the guilt was already eating him alive and it’d be hard to get him out of that state for a while. You’d try again later, you decided.

Letting those who had left to the kitchen know where you were going, you made your way to your room with your arms held awkwardly in the air so that the weird feeling of the wet fabric wouldn’t be sticking to your skin too bad. Before you could forget, you made a quick stop by the bathroom in order to grab a towel from the cabinet.

Finally having made it to your room, you were quick to tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere on the floor. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to dry off your top half with the previously acquired towel. With a frown, you removed your bra as well since the water had made it to that garment too and once you were sure your skin felt dry you dropped the towel onto your bed and you made your way to your closet.

You were bent over getting into your dresser looking for a new bra when you heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” You called over your shoulder, still digging around in the dresser. 

“Uhhh Cole! Is it okay if I come in?”

“I’m sort of changing right now!”

“I won’t look!”

You huffed out a laugh at that. It was sort of indecent to let him in when you were like that, but he did promise not to look. But what if he did? That thought caused your cheeks to heat up a bit. To be completely honest, you were almost entirely head over heels for the earth ninja. The only reason you didn’t choose to spend every dinner chatting to him is because you knew part of you would slip up and embarrass yourself in one way or another. Not to say he didn’t do his fair share of embarrassing himself, but you found that endearing. He’d probably think you were weird and off putting if you were to just slip up randomly. 

“Fiiinneeee!” You agreed against your better judgment. “No peeking!”

You could hear a chuckle rumble from the man as the faint sound of the door clicking open hit your ears. Chancing a glance behind you, you smiled fondly at the sight of Cole with his hands over his eyes as he shut the door behind him. He stood completely still after that too scared to make his way to a place to sit with him completely blind like that.

“Soooo, what’s up?” You finally asked, trying to not get irritated at the fact that you couldn’t seem to find another bra in your dresser.

“I just wanted to check in on you.” Cole answered, his voice strained. “I’ll gladly beat Jay up for you. Swear.” That had you giggling.

“You’d beat Jay up over anything.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just looking for an excuse to.”

“Nuh uh.”

“You can take a seat, y’know.” You changed the topic, about damn near close to giving up and just going braless (you wouldn’t actually. It sounded comfortable, but you didn’t want to expose yourself like that.)

Cole cleared his throat slightly. “No way! I’d totally bump into like a shelf or something!! All of your shit would be broken and then I’d have to beat myself up after beating up Jay!”

Another laugh escaped you at that. Was all of it made funnier by the fact that it was Cole? Maybe. Afterwards, you went silent as your mind began racing. This could be your chance? Would he think it’s weird?

“Hey, I,” you bit your lip in a pause, “I don’t mind if you open your eyes…” You finally spoke, getting ready to just laugh it off like it was just a joke. What a prankster you are!

Cole seemed to go oddly silent after you said that and you were sweating bullets. The tension that filled the room was suffocating. Quickly, you snapped up with your back still to Cole. That action was followed by the sound of footsteps almost as if the other ninja had begun walking closer.

You were about ready to apologize profusely when Cole’s low voice broke the silence, “can I ask you something, [name]?”

“Anything…” You murmured, still facing the other way.

“Can I…” There was a pause, an eerily similar pause to the one you had earlier. He was hesitant as he seemed to be fighting some inner battle.

Without thinking, you quickly turned around not caring about your current topless situation and you pulled Cole down in order to plant a fierce kiss to his lips. You were about to apologize for your impulsivity and how you should’ve asked first and not assumed, but Cole’s hands came to rest on your waist and he let out a low groan as he melted into the kiss.

You weren’t small by any means, but it was making your knees weak at the feeling of his hands just absolutely dwarfing your waist. Those hands pulled you closer to where your chest was pressed against him and the feeling of the bulge in his pants against your hips caused you to gasp which he took advantage of and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small whine at the action, but quickly reciprocated even if you let him have control of the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air arose and you reluctantly parted with him, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. His eyes searched yours, as if something in your gaze held the answer to every question he had ever asked, as his hands slowly wandered to the area beneath your ass. After a bit of panting between the two of you, the kiss quickly resumed and he lifted you up easily causing your stomach to do flips. You wrapped both of your legs around his back and took appreciation in the new angle as it was much easier than having him lean down as much as he was.

The kiss broke as his lips began trailing downward. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your neck and your breath hitched as he lightly nipped and sucked at the skin there.

“You’re gorgeous…” He breathed against your neck.

Between your harsh intakes of breath, you eventually got out, “Cole, I need you.” Which caused another low groan to escape him.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about hearing that come from your lips.” Cole had begun walking over to your bed and gently sat you down atop it as he crawled on top of you. He had barely even done anything, but you already felt like your brain was turning into mush. The sight of his body hovering over yours is something you’ve only ever dreamed about and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. That movement caught his attention, but he had to pace himself. Make sure everything was alright with you. You were operating at hyperspeed, however, and began reaching to the hem of his shirt. That didn’t go unnoticed by him either and he was quick to yank the material up and over his head. He flung the shirt onto the floor of your room as you laid there, stunned, at the sight of his body.

Cole was, well you knew he was big, but he was beefy. Clearly, he was muscular, but he had some chubbiness going for him as well and, God, you don’t know if you’ve ever needed anyone more. He was perfect. You started to sit up so that you could absolutely just feel him up, but he didn’t let you get up. Instead, he ran his hands down your stomach towards your shorts. You looked at him confused and he just leaned in close, his breath fanning across your ear.

“I want to make this about you.” His hands had successfully unbuttoned and zipped down your shorts. “Call me selfish, but I need to make you feel good. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t treat you like the finest piece of cake in the damn bakery?” To many, that’d be a cause for laughter, but knowing Cole, that meant everything. He slowly pulled away from your ear and you couldn’t help but look at him with the purest look of adoration after that. Even in a situation as intimate as this, he still managed to get the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.

Cole slowly slid your shorts down your legs and off of your body. They probably ended up somewhere near where his shirt did. His eyes were transfixed at the wet spot that had formed on your underwear and he found himself subconsciously licking his lips. You, on the other hand, were staring at him with anticipation wondering what his next move would be. Gingerly, his hands came to rest on your waist and you shivered. His thumbs hooked into the last garment you had on, but he paused to look up at you. His eyes were searching yours once more.

“Is this okay?” He finally asked, his voice soft. Your enthusiastic nod put him into action and he quickly slid your panties off of your legs.

Cole could’ve sworn he was fucking salivating at the sight of your core fully exposed to him. He placed his hands underneath your knees and used that position to spread your legs open for ease of access. Knowing he still had his pants on, you were curious to what his current plan was until your eyes widened as you watched his head lower to rest between your thighs. Your face was flushed red and you could feel yourself trembling slightly. What he was about to do was just so…intimate? It felt more like a once the relationship has officially started activity, but it seems he wasn’t even kidding when he said he’d treat you like cake. Was he trying to ruin you for anyone else? (As if you’d want anyone else.)

The breath was knocked out of you as he took one small lick of you. You could’ve sworn you heard a noise escape him as well, but you weren’t given time to even think as he instantly dove back in. He had started eating you out like a man starved. His tongue moved along your pussy masterfully, making careful movements along your clit which caused punctuated whines to escape your mouth. You couldn’t help but reach a hand down to rest on the back of his head which he seemed to enjoy. Cole then made his tongue flatten out in order to lap up as much of your juices as possible. As if this wasn’t enough to get his fill, his tongue finally plunged into your hole and a gasp left your lips that slowly morphed into a low moan. This man was eating you up and you’re pretty sure your mind was completely gone by this point. What was your name? Who cares? Cole was giving you pleasure you had never experienced before and that’s literally all that mattered at this point. If your head wasn’t so far up in the clouds, you probably would’ve noticed that Cole was grinding up against the bed as he ate you out. 

Your grip tightened in Cole’s hair and a moan left his lips which seemed to vibrate along your cunt. 

“C-Cole–” His name was but a mere whimper along your lips and it only encouraged him to move his mouth against you faster. You felt the knot in your stomach twist up as your peak approached. You were practically grinding up against his tongue which Cole enjoyed immensely. He could not get enough and it rewarded him as you practically exploded all over his tongue. He was licking up as much of your climax as he could as you were still shaking in post-orgasmic bliss. Your vision felt blurry at the continued stimulation that carried you down from your high and you were faintly aware of the moans and whimpers making their way out of your throat.

Honestly, you had expected him to stop, but even one orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Cole was still lost in the taste of your pussy. You felt a bit of pain flare up at the overstimulation and you were trying to gently pull at his hair.

“Cole,” you whimpered, “h…hurts.” That fell on deaf ears as he just continued on. You thought he hadn’t heard you, but a shit eating look was sent your way and you knew he was trying to work you up. 

“Just one more.” He growled along your folds as he moved up to suck on your clit which caused a jolt to travel through your body. It seems as if he had enough of your trembles as his arms came up to rest on your thighs. The position still keeping your legs spread, but his strength kept your lower half still as he continued his ‘feast’. Your moans and whines had definitely picked up in pace at this moment as the pain began to border on pleasure.

Your second orgasm came much faster.

He licked it up just as enthusiastically as he did the first time. You think he probably would’ve tried to keep going for a third time if you didn’t forcefully pull him up this time. There was a sheen of your slick that shined around Cole’s mouth and you looked away slightly in embarrassment. Cole, meanwhile, was licking around his mouth trying to get whatever he had missed. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath after all of that. The shifting of Cole’s body was what finally caught your attention. The ninja was moving himself from above your body to your side and it looked as if he was moving to lay down next to you. All signs of lethargy left your body as you quickly sat up and rested a hand on his chest. Cole stared at you with a tilt of his head, the confusion bubbling within him evident.

“What about you?” You asked, still breathing a bit heavy.

“What about me?” Cole replied a bit dumbly.

“You know…” You muttered, a tad bit embarrassed, but you rested a hand over his painfully hard bulge in his pants. The feeling caused him to shiver and he looked down, realization dawning on him.

“Oh, it’s okay.” He said, picking your hand up and removing it from his crotch. “I said I just wanted to take care of you, right?”

“Yeah you did,” you started, “but I said I need you, didn’t I?” Cole nodded slowly, but a small frown was still on his face.

“Aren’t you tired?”

A sigh left your mouth. “A little, BUT.” You emphasized, noticing how he had opened his mouth to speak after you said that. “God damnit Cole. No way am I going to finally get you into my bed just to have you not dick me down. I don’t care how sensitive I am, I need you to fuck me.” You could barely believe what you had just said, but it got the job done. Albeit a bit slowly.

“...Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you…”

“I have never been more fucking sure in my life.”

Seeing as he wasn’t moving, you lunged over to him to begin slipping his basketball shorts down. Noticing your haste, Cole finally started taking initiative. If it’s what you wanted then he just had to give it. With a better method, Cole slipped off his shorts and boxers off together in one swift motion. And, boy, did he not disappoint. EVERY part of him was big, you had just found out. Saliva pooled up in your mouth at the sight of his cock as you couldn’t take your size off of it. If you weren’t so needy, you probably would’ve taken him into your mouth right then and there, but Cole already had a hand on your shoulder forcing you to lay back down as he positioned himself right above you again.

Your pussy was definitely still slick from the mix of your own arousal and Cole’s saliva and he ran a finger between your folds before shoving it into you. His tongue hadn’t been as thick as his finger, but it still wasn’t much to adjust to. The second finger proved to be more filling and your breath was once again escaping in huffs. 

It took a bit until Cole had either thought you ready or just gotten impatient, but he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his dick up with your entrance. A pause. You were about ready to complain until the breath was taken swiftly from your lungs as he slowly pushed in. As he slid in further and further, the more your breaths turned into short moans. It felt as if he filled absolutely every part of you and it was addicting. The stretch hurt, but it was so deliciously overpowered by the pleasure of him finally being inside you. Though, Cole still didn’t even attempt to move until you gave him the go ahead.

From there, he started at a slow but deep pace. It was a sensual experience. Above you, Cole was letting out little huffs and groans at the feeling of your walls around his member. He could explode right then and there if he wanted to. But, he continued at this pace of almost completely removing himself from your hole before pushing balls deep back in. It was excruciating.

“F..fa…faster.” You panted at him. And who would he be if he denied you this request?

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room as Cole slowly began picking up the pace. His hips were pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace, and you think you finally understood the phrasing of “being fucked stupid.”

Every push in had you moaning loudly. It was either moans or a broken moan of Cole’s name which made him go in a bit harder every time you did that. His head hung low until it was resting in the crook of your neck. The groans and low moans that were leaving the man only turned you on more and you about screamed his name when he bit into your neck. There were no thoughts of anyone here at the monastery hearing you two, as far as you cared, you and Cole were the only people in Ninjago at this point. All of your senses seemed to be completely filled by the man anyways.

The feeling of his licking, sucking, and biting along your neck combined with his rough abuse of your pussy brought you close to your third climax of the night which might be a record for you.

“C-Cole, I’m-I’m close.” You whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you.

“God, me too.” He moaned against your neck. Cole was determined to not let go until you had, so he reached a hand down to start playing with your clit as he continued fucking into you. That absolutely sent you over the edge and you screamed as you came all over Cole’s cock. He continued thrusting into you throughout your orgasm which only made it feel that much better. His hips began stuttering in their movements and he was quick to pull himself out of the vice grip your pussy had on him. Cole wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked himself off the rest of the way until his cum started landing on your stomach. He let out tiny grunts as he fucked into his hand a bit before letting go.

You made sure he was looking at you when you scooped up some of his release and licked it off your fingers. He really had to save that image for the next time he masterbated.

Before he even allowed himself to lay down next to you, Cole carefully got up and reached for the towel you had used earlier to dry yourself off and used it to wipe his release off of your stomach, a small ‘sorry’ leaving his mouth as he did so. He was cute. 

Finally, his body dropped harshly at your side and you giggled tiredly at him. Cole rolled over to look at you and you held your arms open, a silent question for him to come cuddle you. 

His strong arms wrapped around your body and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. Cole found where your covers started and threw them over the both of you which only made you snuggle in even closer to him.

You two sat there in silence for so long, just catching your breaths, that you nearly fell asleep.

“Hey, [name].” You startled at the sound of his voice. A non-committal ‘hm?’ is what you hummed in response and he just rested his nose on the top of your head in your hair. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

A content sigh left your lips and you sleepily looked up, causing him to remove his head from its place. “Of course, Cole.” One of your hands slipped out from under the covers and cradled one of his cheeks. You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on the other cheek. 

“Now, let’s get some sleep. We can talk about the details later.” You said through a yawn and he just smiled at you fondly. You both returned to your previous positions and slowly drifted off, and for once, neither of you felt fear or dread for what was to come in the future.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Heart Still Beating - 2 | Lloyd

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Summary: After the heart transplant, Lloyd, the heartless killer, started to feel something—something unexpected and powerful that was tied to the fiancé of the heart’s donor.

Words Count : 2916

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , End

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Lloyd’s heart suddenly thundered, then clenched painfully. “Urgh!” He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath, but as he reached for the wall to steady himself, he slipped. Just before he fell, you caught him, one hand resting firmly against his chest. The pain subsided instantly, like his new heart had quieted under your touch.

He cursed under his breath. Why did the pain vanish when she touched his chest? Was it because of the memories of the heart's previous owner?

It reminded him of a colleague who could only fall asleep after hearing bedtime stories from a woman.

“Damn it,” he muttered, glancing away. “This heart’s making me weak. I can’t even kill anymore.” His voice was bitter, almost disgusted.

This is the first time you hear this kind of problem. Your eyebrows rose, taken aback by his words. "Are you actually saying the heart is stopping you from… killing people?”

Lloyd gave a short, dry laugh, his gaze darkening as he glared at you. “What, you think I asked for this? Your precious fiancé’s heart is in my chest, and it’s ruining me.” He sneered, “Must feel great for you, knowing he’s stuck here, with someone like me.”

Your jaw clenched, pain flashing in your eyes. “How dare you? You don’t deserve his heart. He was—”

Another sharp, pulsing pain hit him, cutting you off as Lloyd’s hand shot to his chest, wincing. “Urgh…” His expression shifted, as if he’d only just realized something. “Fine… fine,” he murmured, almost to himself, forcing his breath steady. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, alright? No more nasty words to her.”

Your eyes narrowed, bewildered. “Are you… talking to yourself?”

Lloyd’s gaze snapped back to you, rolling his eyes. “Think what you want.” Without warning, he took your hand and pressed it over his heart, his gaze unyielding. “Feel that? It’s your fiancé’s heart, beating. For you.”

You froze, your breath catching as you felt the steady thud against your palm. “Justin?” you whispered, tears threatening to spill.

Lloyd’s bitter expression softened as he watched you, something strange and unrecognizable creeping into his eyes. This unwanted melancholy clawed at him, a feeling he’d tried to bury.

You withdrew your hand, blinking back tears as you cleared your throat. “Come in.”

As he walked into your apartment, his eyes fell on the stacks of boxes lining the walls. Fragments of another man’s life, packed away, waiting for their final rest. He picked up a framed photograph: you and a man, both smiling against a backdrop of starlit skies. Justin.

Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind, clear and insistent. He whispered, “Luna.”

Your gaze snapped to him, voice tense. “Why did you say that name?”

He set down the photo, his face unreadable. “I… heard it. In a dream.” His brow furrowed, piecing it together. “It’s what you wanted to name… your baby, isn’t it?”

You glanced down, your hand moving instinctively to your belly as you whispered, “It is. He chose it when we found out she’d be a girl.” Your voice shook as you continued, “If it weren’t for that accident… he’d still be here.”

The mention of the accident sent a dull ache through Lloyd’s chest, something raw yet strangely familiar, though not as sharp as before.

“How did you even find out I was the… patient?” he asked, keeping his tone steady. As a covert agent, he wasn’t easy to track. His life, his work—it all existed in the shadows, far from public records.

Your expression hardened. “I bribed someone at the hospital for the information.” You held his gaze, unflinching.

Lloyd’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his hardened demeanor. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as you appeared after all.

After bribing for information, you found yourself following Carmichael, though he didn’t notice right away. When you finally confronted him, the sight of you—especially with your pregnant belly—caught him completely off guard.

Flustered and visibly unsettled, he tried to shake you off, but you raised your voice, not backing down, drawing the attention of several tall, intimidating figures nearby. They were built like Lloyd, all sharp eyes and stone expressions, now watching you with interest.

Finally, one of them approached. “Madam, please come inside.”

He escorted you into the building, leading you through grand halls lined with marble columns and ancient statues, giving the place a regal, castle-like feel. You were taken to a dimly lit room where an elderly man sat, his eyes scanning you from head to toe before shifting to Carmichael with a steely gaze. “Take her to him.”

When you recounted the encounter to Lloyd, he seemed genuinely shocked. “You met the boss?”

You shrugged, a faint smirk at his surprise. “Guess he got sentimental. Something about seeing a single mother… reminded him of his own upbringing.”

Lloyd scoffed, shaking his head. “Old man’s gone soft, I swear.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked at him, “You… you’ve got a second chance here. Don’t waste his heart—it’s not just some toy.”

Lloyd scoffed, shrugging. “What, so I’m supposed to be grateful now?”

Without responding, he turned toward the door, only to pause. His hand froze in mid-reach. You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Shh. It's to quiet.” He raised a finger, then his eyes widened. “Get down!” In one swift move, he yanked you to the floor, shielding you behind a couch, one arm protectively covering your stomach.

A faint breeze brushed past your neck, and with horror, you realized it wasn’t the wind but a bullet—whizzing inches from where you’d been standing.

Lloyd glanced at you, voice urgent. “You’ve got three minutes to hide. Can you get to your room?”

“Y-yeah?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“Good. Move,” he instructed, drawing his gun. You scrambled to your feet, clutching your belly, and darted towards your room.

“Stay put until I say so. Here.” He tossed a phone to you. “Hit number one—they’ll know what it means.”

Heart racing, you fled into the closet, squeezing yourself inside as you dialed the number, hands shaking.

From outside, muffled sounds of movement and sharp, metallic clicks told you the danger was still near. You held your breath as you listened, praying for silence to mean safety.

Meanwhile, Lloyd braced himself, greeting his would-be attackers with a cold, calculating stare. Five men stood before him, poised and armed. “Who sent you?” he demanded.

One of them smirked. “Not your concern.”

They moved in, circling him. Lloyd flexed his grip on his gun, his gaze hard and unyielding. As they lunged, he met them with ruthless efficiency, each blow calculated and relentless. Outnumbered five to one, they clearly underestimated him. He was brutal, merciless, and unrelenting, disarming them one by one.

Yet as they fought, he noticed something strange. They avoided striking his chest, almost like they were purposefully steering clear of it. And none of them seemed eager to land a fatal blow. Why would they hold back?

Lloyd’s frustration ignited into something more—a bloodlust sharper than he’d felt in years. The thought nagged at him: was this intense desire to protect you coming from his own heart? Or Justin’s?

Under his breath, he murmured, “You really did love her, didn’t you?”

In your bedroom, you flinched at every thud and crash, fear twisting your stomach. Silence fell, the air thick with suspense. Had he survived?

Then, the door creaked open, and Lloyd appeared, smirking. “Your savior is here.”

Relief washed over you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He extended a hand, helping you to your feet as you steadied yourself, still catching your breath. “Who were they?”

He glanced back at the empty room. The inturders has gone, his gaze dark. “I don’t know. But I know someone who does.”

💘💘💘💘

You and Lloyd now stood face-to-face with Carmichael, the man’s typically composed expression slightly fractured as he glanced between the two of you.

“Are you alright?” Carmichael directed his question to you, his eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing for signs of distress.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. “I’m fine.”

Lloyd scoffed. “Why are you asking her? I’m the one they came after.” He stepped closer, his voice darkening. “Who the hell are they? Some new group making waves?”

Adjusting his glasses, Carmichael replied, “You wouldn’t know them because they operate in an entirely different league.”

“The upper world?” Lloyd’s voice held a dangerous edge.

Carmichael nodded.

“What does that mean?” you asked, casting a nervous glance at Lloyd.

Lloyd didn’t want to tell you, but because of this damn heart he had, he felt compelled to share everything. “To make it simple, my job is in the underworld. I handle deeper, darker things than you could ever imagine. Meanwhile, the upper world is like kindergarten—mafia, gangsters, that kind of people.”

You swallowed, a chill creeping up your spine. “But mafias are still dangerous for people like me.”

Carmichael nodded in agreement. “She’s right. It’s a very real danger for her.” He turned to Lloyd, a strange resignation in his eyes. “They’re Mafia.”

Lloyd’s brow furrowed, a glint of anger flashing across his face. “I’ve got nothing to do with them.”

Carmichael held his silence a beat longer than usual, then said, “What they want is your heart.”

The words hit both you and Lloyd like a bullet. Your eyes widened as you exchanged looks, Lloyd’s jaw going rigid. He scoffed, disbelief giving way to anger. “What makes this heart so special?”

“Their leader needs it,” Carmichael explained, retrieving a file. He opened it, laying down a profile with a photo labeled Mr. Cicadas.

“This group,” he continued, “is an alliance between the Italian and Japanese mafias. And this man—Mr. Cicadas—is the head. The only donor who’s a 100% match is…” He paused, glancing at you with a rare hint of sympathy.

“Justin…” you murmured, your face going pale as the truth clawed its way to the surface. Lloyd saw the shock draining the color from your face and wrapped a steadying arm around you.

Lloyd’s tone was grim. “Let me guess. This heart was meant for him. But you gave it to me. Why?”

Carmichael met his gaze. “Our motto is clear: ‘Kill one person to save millions.’”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a half-smirk. “So, you wanted this insect guy dead—that’s why I got the heart instead?”

You never imagined your fiancé’s heart could hold such value. “Was that man really so evil?”

Carmichael nodded. “He doesn’t deserve to live. It’s a long story, but let’s just say that your fiancé was too good a man to lose his life to someone like Mr. Cicadas.”

On that day, three people were dying: Mr. Cicadas, who would do anything to stay alive; Justin, who was succumbing to his injuries from the accident; and Lloyd, who had been shot through the heart, unexpectedly accepting his fate. Three dying individuals connected by the same match of a heart.

But for Justin, there was no hope. In his final moments, he wished to donate his organs to help another, embodying a selfless desire to save a life.

Yet there was only one heart for two desperate souls. A heart is incredibly precious to anyone fighting for survival, and Mr. Cicadas didn’t deserve it. The choice became clear: it had to be Lloyd.

You felt your anger rise, bitter words forming before you could stop yourself. “And yet, how is he,” you gestured at Lloyd, “any better?”

“At least he wasn’t the reason your fiancé died.” Carmichael’s words hung in the air, like an accusation you could barely process.

“What?” Your voice cracked. “What did you just say?”

Carmichael’s jaw tensed. “Mr. Cicadas needed a transplant urgently, and your fiancé was the best match—healthy, young, and alive.” He trailed off as he saw the shock turn your expression hollow. “The car accident was planned.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a dark shroud. Your hands instinctively wrapped around your belly as the realization hit: Justin hadn’t died because of some unavoidable tragedy—he’d been hunted, killed, because of someone greeds. You felt the hot sting of tears, your voice quivering with grief. “He didn’t deserve any of this…”

Lloyd, sensing the pain radiating from you, placed a steady hand on your back, his own gaze shadowed by a strange sorrow that he’d not felt in a long time.

“They want it back now,” Lloyd muttered, a dangerous calm settling in his tone.

Carmichael’s mask slipped, revealing a flicker of rage. “That monster should have died when he failed to receive it. But the bastard’s still alive.”

Lloyd looked over in surprise; he’d never heard Carmichael curse, not with this level of disgust. It was clear Mr. Cicadas was worse than he’d imagined, a man who even the darkest operatives wanted dead.

His voice hardened, a quiet resolve in his words. “I have to stay alive, then.”

Carmichael stepped forward, voice low but firm, eyes blazing with determination. “Our boss left one message for you: ‘Do whatever is necessary to stay alive.’”

You gripped your stomach, thinking of Justin. Memories flashed—his warmth, his laugh. His life had been ripped from him, all to satisfy the greed of a man who, by all rights, should have been six feet under. Tears slipped down your cheeks as the truth sunk in, the ache of his loss twisting your heart in ways that words couldn’t convey.

Author's note: I put an Easter egg in this. Do you know which paragraph? 🤭

Join The Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@missvelvetsstuff

@mostlymarvelgirl

@kjah97

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling

@buckybarnessweetheart

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@notyourtypicalrose

@choppedgalaxynerd

@readingislife

@rebeccapineapple

@ohdrey89

@marvel-wifey-86

@esposadomd

@formulas-bitch

[so-sures-blog]

Icebound

icebound definition: surrounded, obstructed, or covered by ice.

In which Zane uses his element against the Overlord to save the city and his friends. Because it wasn’t about numbers, it was about family.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

It is the end, and Zane knows it.

The Overlord is conquering Ninjago City, webs of gold stringing across buildings like Christmas lights and tying up his friends like flies. They struggle, but it is useless under the might of the Overlord.

Zane flips out of the way of a golden band reaching to ensnare him and lands on a roof. All of his friends are tied up, and only Zane is free. He knows what he has to do. He is the only one who can.

“Support me, friends. For one last time.”

He takes a running leap off the ledge, and Jay flips midair so his feet plant squarely on top of his. Then Cole, Lloyd, Kai, Sensei Garmadon, and Wu.

He soars, flying straight at the Overlord, and grabs onto his golden fangs.

Immediately, he feels its power, and its agony. Pain rips into every crevice of his body; his jolts rattle and shake and his wires spark under his skin.

“Let my friends go!” Zane shouts.

“Go where, Doomed Ninja?” The Overlord sneers. Its eyes, red and hateful, glare into him.

Zane writhes under the immense pain and power. His body cannot handle it, he knows, and he feels himself falling apart under it.

“The Golden Weapons are too powerful for you to behold. Your survival chance is low.”

But Zane isn’t trying to hold them. He’s trying to destroy them.

He thinks of his brothers. He thinks of PIXAL. He thinks of his father. He thinks of an old man with long white hair as pure as snow and ice blue eyes that visited him a long time ago, who had come and left as quickly as winter did and had breathed that power into him because he saw him worthy of it.

“This … isn’t about numbers … It's about family!”

The golden webs holding the Ninja fall and they escape. He can hear them screaming, telling him to let go, and he thanks them for that. Wu and Garmadon grab onto them and yank them back, away from the oncoming destruction.

His core — his heart — started reaching critical mass. Frost began creeping upon the Overlord’s fangs. Something blue and blinding in his heart freezes under his power, and Zane embraces it. It's his power. His choice.

“I am a Nindroid. And Ninja never quit. Go Ninja … go!”

He is the Master of Ice. He was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He stands for peace, freedom, and courage in the face of all who threaten Ninjago.

Frostbite burns his skin away; jolt and wires freeze under the cold; until he is left completely bare.

The last glimpse they get of Zane is him surrounded by a blizzard of his own making, bright and beautiful like a supernova. Burning blue and white with the terrible brilliance of his own determined choice.

Zane died; not as a machine, not as a human, not as a tool of anyone or anything — but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves.

And woke up as something completely different.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

PIXAL climbs her way up the steep cliff side, careful to place her foot in secure crevices in case she slipped and fell from the icy mountain. Heavy snow blinded her vision as the blizzard whipped around her, but she kept her pace steady and sure.

It had been months since she had left Ninjago City and began her search. Months since Zane’s death and memorial. PIXAL knew, logically, that she should be back there, properly mourning him. But she could not.

He had never given up on her, not when she was under the Overlord’s control or when she was struggling with the newness of emotions.

And that meant she could never give up on him.

When she had first met Zane, she became more than a machine meant to function. He was vital to her, and she was a part of him.

She carried half his heart, and against all logical explanations, she knew he was still alive.

She did not tell the Ninja of her suspicions: the immediate aftermath of Zane’s loss had been devastating. She’d watched as the team fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise. She did not tell Cyrus Borg where she was going either, for she knew if he begged her to stay, she would.

If she had told them she had seen a snowy wraith emerge from the destruction of the frozen, apocalyptic atmosphere on the rooftop, she would have been told she had imagined it due to her grief.

And while she was grieving, she was not imagining it. She is a Nindroid, and she did not have an imagination. PIXAL was built to observe, to analyze, to collect data and gather information. She built theories and hypothesized, not assumed.

So she followed the signs. She kept track of all weather anomalies that happened across Ninjago — sudden snowstorms, cold drops in temperatures that swept through small villages and towns. It led her all across the country until it ended here, with her climbing up the frozen, snow-peaked mountain.

Finally, PIXAL arrived at her destination.

The Ice Temple.

Slowly, she makes her way towards it. Her sensors indicate the temperature dropping the closer she gets. For a normal human, they would have already gotten frostbite without the proper equipment and numb with it, but PIXAL was made of metal. The cold did not bother her.

She peers into the glacial architecture, but does not enter. Or more like, she is unable to. It feels as if there is some sort of force of winter that is keeping her at bay.

“Zane?” Hope finds its way into the desperation of her voice. Freezing winds whip her hair out of its ponytail and against the purple circuits on her cheeks, but she barely notices. “Is that you?”

There’s nothing except for the howling wind, then her eyes catch movement. Slowly, almost like a ghost, a figure starts to come closer, making a shape against the blizzard.

If PIXAL had lungs, all the air would have rushed out of them.

A being made of pure winter floated in front of her. Formed of ice and frost and molded by the wind, it stood there and looked at her. Opaque ice carved the face that has been imprinted in her memory drives, the one she had traveled across the entire world to see again.

It was frozen, and beautiful, and Zane.

Inside her neural drive, alarms were blaring into her system, flashing behind her eyes. Warning: Severe weather alert. Temperature reaching sub-zero levels. Retreat into a warmer climate —

PIXAL shut off the notifications.

“Hello,” she says. Zane does not move. She dares a step closer. “Do you recognize me?”

He says nothing, so PIXAL continues on. It feels like their roles were reversed when they first met: she, the one struck speechless by the other’s beauty. Him, stoic to it all.

“I’m PIXAL, the Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Lifeform. I’m a … friend. I came searching for you to bring you home. There are things about you that you don’t understand. That you have yet to discover. I am here to help you remember.”

Zane is quiet, but she senses that he is listening. Something glowing in her chest aches.

“It is alright if you don’t remember me,” PIXAL says. She cannot cry, but is she would she could. She is still new to emotions, and many are overwhelming her: joy and grief and something fierce and pure deep in her heart. “I remember you. And we are still compatible.”

Zane tilts his head and drifts closer. The snow slows its fall, the wind stopping altogether. Snowflakes gently coat her hair. Now that he is closer, she can see the differences that make him unlike the old Zane: he doesn’t have the one dimple on the right side of his cheek, or the small beauty mark on his collarbone, or the tiny scar on his index finger from his shuriken.

But he is still Zane, even as an icy spirit.

She held out a hand. “Your brothers miss you very much. Will you come back with me, Zane?”

He is silent, staring at her. Unlike before, it is impossible to know what he is thinking. She gazes up at him, imploring. His eyes have no irises or pupils, so she is simply staring up at pinpricks of pure blue light.

Slowly, his hand reaches out of her.

BANG!

A loud sound echoes across the ice, and out of nowhere chains of Vengestone come flying out and capture him.

Fear slams into her. “Zane!” PIXAL cries.

Ice races out from his body and across the chains as Zane struggles, but no matter what, he can’t break them.

PIXAL whips around to face the assailant.

A man in his thirties, wrapped in a thick parka to prevent the cold and wearing a red mask. He has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a dyed red straw hat, and under it she can see he is hiding an eyepatch.

“What are you doing?” PIXAL shouts. Anger — an emotion she rarely feels — burns through her.

The man lowers his gun and pulls out another one before she can even blink.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just following orders.”

Before she can question what that means, he fires. A net tangles her limbs together and brings her down against the cold snow. Before she can fight against it, electricity courses through her.

And then everything went black.

[robin-evry]

𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 👩‍🔬🔭

Ever since you accepted towards the genius society, you and veritas relationship has been strained for the past few days. Thinking it would all go back by giving him space. Until he breaks up with you...

( English is not my first language )

Playing - Goddess by laufey

You and veritas were both professors in the same university and that's how you both meet. Originally he was unbearable wearing that plaster on his face. Saying that he can't stand seeing the face of idiots. And he was referring to you.

But slowly sparks started to bloom. You are the only one that can match his intellectual aspect, and soon you both started to fall in love slowly.

One day he finally takes his plaster off and reveals his face.

Reader : I thought you said, you can't stand looking at idiots

Dr ratio : I don't, but as long as it's you. I wouldn't mind looking at you.

Soon you guys started to go for coffee together, bathing together, admiring the galaxy, enjoying and basking the presents of each other not minding the world because there's only one in each other's worlds.

During your first anniversary of dating, you gave him a two set custom made identical rubber duck of him as well as you, so when takes a bath. Rubber duck him and you will always be seen swimming together

You've always noticed his disappointment of not being accepted towards the genius society and you were there to comfort him and reassure him that he will always be enough.

It's only you and him in the sky, nothing could separate you guys. Even tho he or you are unbearable towards the other but deep inside you feel that there's love for the other one.

Many people said you guys are a perfect match. Everything was perfect until....

One day, you receive an invitation to join the genius society as its number 85# member. Everyone claps and congratulates you and when you look at him, he has this look of betrayal. When you guys are back at home, he stays in his office for the entire night leaving in the once warm bed.

During your congratulation party hosted by the university, many famous people as well as genius society members come to welcome the newest 85# member herta, ruan mei, screwllum, Stephen Lloyd, etc. during your official meeting with herta, veritas was with you, she didn't even acknowledge his existence only looking at you not gazing at him once. She asks for your cooperation towards building a project called simulation universe.

Even some IPC higher-ups arrive to celebrate. You see aventurine chatting with veritas in the corner, until one particular stone heart member introduces himself, his name was sugilite and he kisses your palm as well sending a wink. Suddenly someone sends a cough and it catches both of you guys attention. It was veritas. He said he has some business with you.

Before you can pull your arm away, veritas gently drags you away from the stone heart, and leads you to the balcony after asking are you okay he said he has some work to do and leave the party early.

By far your relationship has become strained, he always faces the other way of the bed without looking at you, he rarely talks to you only asking how are you or how's your day, he hesitated to touch you even when you wrap your arms around his waist he was hesitating whenever or not to touch you.

Recently since you are planning on working with herta on the simulation universe. Your office was told to be removed from the intelligence guild to the herta space station, for maximum work with herta on the simulation universe. Thinking you will only be gone for a few months and will be back to be with veritas.

Until he meets you in an isolated garden in the intelligence guild, he said you guys should break up. The world seems to stop, every thought of doubt comes to your mind and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is oh okay. You were just shocked and he leaves. After a few minutes after he left you sat at a bench and cried your hearts out.

Soon news about you guys breaking up quickly, but instead of crying your hearts out, you bury yourself into your work. Making sure everything is perfect unlike your love. But sometimes memories or reminders of him come towards your mind and make you stop mid-way. But soon you will continue to work. Also recently some gifts started to appear as well large amounts of credit donation towards your project with only one indication from who it was from, the secret admirer gave you jewelry made by the stone "sugilite".

When you try to ask for herta or ruan mei advice, they unfortunately said they are not experts in the fields of romance, but screwllum has been a big help, he will try to find ways to comfort you. You joke to him saying that he has more heart than a human being.

During your audience with nous the aeon themselves, you were allowed to ask any question but there were hundreds of questions but you settled towards one "why do people change" unfortunately you were unable to get a clear answer from the aeon.

You guys haven't been in contact for over one year. Until you meet him again when he visits the space station to inspect the simulation universe for the IPC.

[lazyollie]

Ninjago headcanons- They defend/protect you

Warnings: bad grammar, typos, cringe

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Lloyd

☆° Season: Hunted

☆° You weren't even there when Harumi insulted you in front of Lloyd as she was tied to a chair.

☆° You were out searching for supplies for surviving and fighting against the Sons of Garmadon.

☆° She called you useless, weak and even said that you're not supposed to be ninja with your low skills.

☆° Lloyd had enough of listening to her by now. She insulted him, his friends and even you. Who does she think she is?

"You're only saying these, because you want us to stop fighting. This is nothing else than just a tactic for your own good. And listen to me carefully: Do not involve Y/n or anyone into your games!"

☆° So he gagged her with a cloth instead of Nya finally silencing her from talking dumb things.

☆° Not long after, when you returned with some food Lloyd suddenly hugged you. You didn't expect it from him because he was not physical affection with you ever before.

☆° You hugged him back looking at the others confused about his sudden affection.

Kai

☆° You lived in your shared appartement with Kai in a happy and healthy relationship. It was a relief after your toxic relationship.

☆° Lately, you have gotten messages from your ex-boyfriend trying to keep contact with you, asking about your well-being and relationships.

☆° You told Kai about this and he adviced that you should block him if he makes you uncomfortable and anxious. That's what you did.

☆° One day the bell rang so you went to open the door, Kai watching the TV in the livingroom. When you opened the door a familiar face was in front of you. It was your ex

☆° He pushed you inside as he came into your appartement without permission.

"You thought if you block me I will just dissappear. Ahahaa.. How about we start again? Don't be shy, I know you still want me."

☆° Kai heard the noises and went to check on you and what he saw made him furious. Your ex-partner was gripping your two shoulders not letting you go.

☆° He immediatly yanked him off you pinning him to the wall yelling at him.

"Stay away from them! They don't want anything from you so stop bothering them. If you ever show up here again you're dead. Did you understood?!"

☆° And he kicked him out of the house, locking the door. He sighed then turned to check on you.

"Are you okay?"

Zane

☆° Ninjago City was under attack and the ninja had to seperate to protect and evucate the civilians from the city.

☆° Zane helped the civilians and he was about to go to the meet up point to the others when he heard a scream.

☆° He immediatly went into the direction of the scream, finding you in an alley criminals cornering you.

☆° He saw the fear in your eyes and how you couldn't even move because you were so scared.

☆° He jumped down into the alley in front of you, taking out them while making sure none of them gets near you.

☆° When they were either laying on the ground or they ran away he rushed to you checking for wounds.

☆° He noticed your state and calmed you down:

"Take a deep breaths, ma'am. Everything's alright. Just like that.. Are you hurt?"

"No... Thank you"

☆° He made sure you get to safety and just after that he left.

Jay

☆° You were on a duo mission with him. The mission was easy you just had to stop some criminals from stealing from the bank.

☆° When you arrived there weren't just a few, but a lot of criminals and strong. Definitely not what you expected.

☆° You fought against them as much as you could but the more kicks and punches you throw at them the more bruises, wounds appeared on your body.

☆° As you ran out of energy you lost your pace and you barely could block the attacks causing you to fell to the ground with a big kick on your side.

☆° Jay saw you falling and pushed his way to you taking out all the enemies who decided to attack you after you fell.

☆° The sight of you laying on the ground holding your side which was bleeding gave him a weird feeling of wanting to protect you and also take revenge on the person who did it.

☆° It was surprising how he fought the whole gang of criminals by himself as you were the boosting energy in front of his eyes.

☆° When he took out everyone of them, he let out a sign and just only now let himself calm down a bit.

"Don't worry, Y/n. You'll be fine. I will take care of you. Just keep your eyes open for me"

Cole

☆° Chill night, bright colorful lights, pop music. That's what made both of you feel alive.

☆° You prefer dancing and singing over sitting in a corner sipping your cocktale. The problem is Cole prefers the second option.

☆° So most of the time you make an agreement on doing both a little so both of you have your fun time without missing out a lot.

☆° At this night you were more outgoing than other days. You wanted to scream and dance along other people, not like Cole.

☆° You were sitting at your table looking at all the people having fun with their friends wishing Cole would be like that too.

☆° He went to the bathrooms and you took your chance and went into a dancing crowd.

☆° You were having fun until you bumped into some random guy and he quieckly pulled you out of the dancing crowd.

☆° When Cole came back he noticed that you weren't at your table so he immediatly went into the crowd, hoping you're okay.

☆° When he found you he saw you pinned to the wall while the other guy put his hand on the wall next to you.

☆° Judging by your expression you were uncomfortable so he rushed to your side.

"I'm sorry dude. That's my partner. Can you maybe.. move away?"

"Your partner? Sorry bro. I didn't know this pretty thing belongs to you. I'm out then"

☆° He moved away from you, winking at you before he left. You let out a shaky breath then hugging Cole.

Nya

☆° Her new habit was to go to a café almost everytime she could. She liked the asmophera and also she liked the barista. You.

☆° She was a regular customer so you already built up something between you. You were always smiling at her and not because you have to, you really mean it. She liked your kind soul.

☆• You even made cute animal figures in her coffee. You liked her reaction when she saw one of your arts.

☆° Nya is a typical nice customer that you like to serve and then they are the not really nice customers who think everything revolves around them.

☆° A brown haired middle aged men walked into the café asking for a latte. His tone was little aggressive, but you just ignored it, hoping that the coffee will make his day better.

☆° You were about to take his coffe for him when you accidently slipped and the latte landed on the floor along with you.

"Oh my God! How could you fuck up my coffee? I've paid for it, bitch. I can't even believe that you got this job, you're so stupid!"

☆° He yelled as you apologised to him but he just kept insulting you. Nya sat up from his table walking to the man.

"Stop insulting them! If you can't deal with small mistakes than this place is not for you. No one is yelling in this café. Did you understand?"

☆° Her yelling got him shut up as he walked out of the café angrily. You smiled at her.

"I've dealt with difficult customers before, but thank you for standing up for me."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I've made this in a few days. I had a lot of time because I'm sick since Thuersday. I hope you like it. Now I only have one request and I can make my own ideas for a while than I will open the requests again. Or maybe sooner. I still haven't decided that yet.

Love y'all<3

[be-with-me-so-happily]

il gran finale

ONE SHOT

Summary: As photography apprentice to Lloyd Wakefield, you have been around Harry quite a lot on tour, capturing all the mesmerizing moments on stage. But at the after party of the final show in Reggio Emilia, he seems to be the one zoned in on you.

AN: I don't know if this is any good. I haven't written smut in so long, but with Love On Tour coming to an end, I needed to do something!

Warnings: Some explicit language, alcohol consumption, mild exhibitionism kink, fingering, public unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it people)

You've always known Harry Styles is a gentleman. Even before you took on the role of apprentice photographer to Lloyd Wakefield, you only ever heard positive comments about the man, about how kind and caring he is. No one ever has a bad thing to say, and touring with him has only proven those things to be true. He is a sweet guy, just as everyone claims him to be.

That's his reputation. His public reputation.

But the way his enchanting and lustful green eyes have locked in on you for the past several minutes has made you think of nothing but the other reputation he has. The dream that you and thousands of his fans indulge in. The fantasy of him taking control of every single part of you, of using you, of pleasing you. Of giving you everything he has while you are under him, and on top of him, and in front of him, and…

You reset yourself as nearby laughter pulls you out of those delicious yet indelicate thoughts, ones you may need to draw upon later in the privacy of your hotel room.

It's bad enough that he has a flirtatious side. The subtle winks, the cheeky smiles, the wiggles of his eyebrows when a mildly indecent comment has been made. Usually by him. Both on and off stage, each of those gestures can easily get you flustered.

And it definitely doesn't make your job any easier, especially considering it's your assignment to watch him, to photograph him, to view him in a variety of different angles, none of which could be considered unflattering. He always looks good.

The outfit tonight, the shaggy silver get-up, showcasing his glistening pecs and chiseled abs, only added to the assortment of desires you only dwell upon alone at night. You're usually very composed, for the most part. You know how to play it cool.

But right now, as his stare exhibits something primal, you feel as if your entire body is on fire, and you can't help but be engulfed by the flames.

Clinking of the ice in your glass as you bring it to your lips alerts you to the fact that your drink has been fully consumed, and you decide to head to the bar for a refill. If not just for another drink, then for the moment of solidarity to gather yourself and bring some air back into your lungs. Because you are sure it's not the alcohol that's causing you to feel so dizzy.

"Hi, could I please hav-"

"Another margarita?" You hear in a deep, sultry, British voice sounding out from behind you. Right behind you.

"Yes please." You utter, almost inaudibly, to the bartender, the heat from before intensifying with each breath of Harry's that you feel on your neck.

"And I'll have two shots of Tequila, please sir." He states, so casually, as you stand frozen in place.

A cold breeze hits your skin as you see him move around and position himself to your left, leaving you to miss the warmth he was just providing.

"You look like you're having a good time." He states, as he brings his glass to his lips. You watch as the rim rests on them. You watch as the liquid slides between them. And you watch as a smirk pulls in the mischievous dimple that he is so well known for, unintentionally licking your own lips in the process.

"Sorry… what were you saying?" You ask, attention moving back to his gaze and finding those glistening green irises already locking in on your eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" He chuckles in response to your question, leaving your heart pounding with embarrassment.

"I am!" You exclaim, quicker than anticipated, clearly not playing it cool like you believe you usually do.

"Good." He replies simply.

"Are you?"

"I am." He nods, his eyes quickly flickering down your body, before switching their focus back to the bar, creating a warmth between your legs, and you try desperately not to squirm.

"Good." You reply, with a giggle, finally taking the sip of margarita that has unknowingly been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. "So we're both enjoying ourselves."

He chuckles along with you, shaking his head as he throws back his second shot. He swallows it harshly, drawing your eye to the way his Adam's apple bobs with the consumption of the liquor. You notice his body begin to turn towards you, and as you glaze up his neck to his gorgeous face, a lustful expression falls over it. His brows narrow, and deviancy sparks in his eyes, turning them to a deep, enticing emerald.

"Want to enjoy each other now?"

"Sure, that-" You begin to respond, but your eyes begin to travel down to his lips, noticing how his teeth dig into the bottom one. His look of determination makes you wonder if there's a more devious meaning behind it, and that thought alone causes an extreme yearning between your legs. "Wait… what do you mean?"

He leans against the bar, his tattoo-covered forearm resting on top, as the palm of his right hand gently slides over your hip and draws you closer with the mildest press of his fingertips against your dress.

"YN, I just had one of the best nights of my fucking life! I want to celebrate. Really celebrate."

"And… how-... umm… how do you want to really celebrate?" You chuckle nervously, every hair on your body standing straight, every nerve on high alert.

"I can show you. If you want me to." He utters, almost a whisper, barely audible in the jumble of conversations surrounding you, but loud enough that it sends the coldest shiver down your spine. He leans closer, his body following along until you are only inches apart. "And considering how tightly your thighs are clenched together right now… I think you do."

Your mouth instantly drops open, and if he wasn't actually correct, and those contracted muscles weren't holding you upright, your legs would have buckled beneath you.

"C'mon." He whispers, softly running two fingers down your arm and grabbing your hand, pulling your body to follow him.

"Harry, wait." You manage to get out, surprisingly, considering the daze he's just put you in. "This… is your party..."

"Yeah." He states, shrugging so casually as he turns back to look at you. "So?"

"We can't just leave!"

Harry stops his trek, along with your heart. He swivels around, the most salacious smirk wide across his face, and to your surprise, you manage to clench your core even tighter.

He leans down to your ear, his lip barely grazing the bottom, his breath steady but thick.

"Who said anything about leaving?"

An exhale releases all the air held in your lungs, leaving you unsure whether it is the margaritas or his suggestive statement that's making your head spin.

He turns back and maneuvers through the crowd of people that have come to congratulate and party with him. But he seems to be a man on a mission.

Through the dim lights and the loud thumps of the music filling the room, you somehow find yourself looking at a staircase leading up the the second floor of the venue.

"Just us?" You hear Harry ask the security staff member guarding the way.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." He responds with a quick nod.

Without hesitation, Harry leads you up, each step building the anxious anticipation inside of you. It's not even clear what may be waiting for you at the top, but if Harry's apparent determination is any indication, it won't be boring.

As you reach the landing, you do a quick scan of your surroundings, seeing a couple of purple velvet sofas pushed against the wall. He takes you further in, letting go of your hand and placing both of his large palms on the thick, black railing in front of him. You stand at his side, copying his stature, though feeling the sweat of your hands being transferred to the metal within them.

The neon flashing of lights is the only thing brightening the venue, as the music sounds and provides a rhythm for the rest of the attendees to move their bodies to. You feel Harry's closest arm glide its way across your back, settling itself on your opposite hip, and squeezing with enough firmness to tell you he wants to be gentle with you, but also wants not to be.

The rest of his figure moves along behind you, pulling you closer to him, as if your bodies had an unretractable magnetic connection. The warmth of his lips suddenly hits right below your ear, causing every muscle you have to practically melt under that simple touch.

"Harry…" You utter, unsure if you've been heard over the sound of the new song beginning to play. "People could see us…"

"Doubtful." He mumbles, his breath tickling down your neck. "No one's looking anyway."

Another kiss moistens your skin, and your head falls backwards to him, resting against his broad, strong shoulder, encouraging him to continue his tantalizing exploration.

He grazes your hips with his palms, running them up and down the tops of your thighs, letting out a heavy exhale when he stops at the hem of your dress. His fingertips tease the edge, sliding around to the front. One hand lifts up to your waist, while the other glides around to your inner thigh, and you could swear your panties are already soaked.

"Do you like this?" He whispers in your ear, and with the state of daze he currently has you in, all you can manage is a subtle nod. "Tell me. Do you like this?"

"Y-yes." You breathe out.

"Do you want more?" He asks in the lowest tone he's ever spoken in, barely needing to convince you that he'll give you whatever you want.

"Yes." You reply, anticipation thick in your stomach.

His fingers run up and under your dress, and you thank yourself for picking the shorter of your two options when you were getting ready for the party.

You attempt to push him back a few paces to the closest velvet sofa for some privacy, but he stands solid in place and you stretch your neck to get as good of a look at him as you can.

"Stay." He states simply, not a demand that you couldn't reject, but the way his tone hit your soul, you can't even imagine refusing him of almost anything he wanted.

Suddenly your body jumps, as you feel mild pressure slowly moving up the center of your panties.

"Soaked." Harry whispers. "Didn't realize I got you this wet, this fast."

His teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe, as his fingers snap the fabric of your underwear, causing you to let out the most pathetic and needy whimper.

"Harry… please." You whine, desperate for something, anything, that he is willing to give you.

"What do you want, YN?"

"Touch me." You reply, your legs already weak at the thought.

He listens, running his index along your center, feeling how slick he's made you. Suddenly, he dips it inside of you, and you worry he could make you cum right here and now. But god you want to feel so much more. You want him to give you so much more.

Slowly, his finger pulls out, but immediately glides back in, accompanied by another, pumping them both in unison, and sending your head into a spin.

"Do you want more?" He asks into your ear.

"Yes." You barely reply, hoping with all you have that he heard your response.

He adds one more finger, and the trio pick up their pace as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

"Oh my god." You whine, feeling a sensation ripple through your body. Nothing you've done to yourself, alone with just your thoughts of him, could ever compare to the feeling of what he's doing to you now.

In and out, his fingers pump, and you're sure if the music suddenly stopped, the noise of his motions would echo from wall to wall.

"You're so tight." He utters. "Don't know if you'd be able to handle my cock."

Just the mention of that word has you moaning, so you reach your arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, and you tilt your head towards him.

"I want that."

"You want what?" He asks, quickening his pace, and halting your words until you swallow the lump that's caught in your throat.

You look down, scanning the crowd for any prying eyes, only to find everyone distracted by their own activities below. Although, at this moment, you aren't sure if that matters to you. If that would stop you.

"I want your cock." You admit, using your free hand to push in between your two bodies and palm over his hard bulge, the feeling of his thick girth creating an even deeper yearning for it.

"Fuck." He growls, his cock twitching under the fabric of his pants.

The emptiness created as his fingers leave your body almost has you wishing you hadn't made any other request, but as you feel his waistband tug down, and the bare skin of his cock as it springs out from its confines and back into your hand, you get wetter than you've been in any moment before.

A strong thigh parts your legs, the back of your dress inches up, and as you feel his long, thick cock glide between them and coat itself in your wetness, Harry lets out a deep, rumbling growl. He runs one hand up your spine and pushes slightly on your back, getting you to bend over a bit and prop yourself up with your hands gripping the railing.

There's never been a desperation so intense as now, as you feel Harry's tip tease your entrance. You've never wanted anything more than the sensation of him pushing into you, stretching you out, giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.

"Think you can fit me inside there?" He asks, the smugness more enticing than you could have imagined possible. But his words, his touch, his everything is overwhelming and rendering you speechless. Then you hear Harry hum, as if knowing your inability to reply, and answering it for himself. "I think you can."

And just like that, he slips in. Slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size each time he pushes in a little further. Filling you completely with every inch he goes deeper, until all you feel is him. Until all you know is him.

"Oh my god." You moan out, unaware if it has been drowned out by the music and chatter of everyone else.

He quickens his pace slightly, and your hold on the railing tightens, not only to steady yourself, but also to possibly disguise your actual activities as simply enjoying the rhythm of the song.

"All these people… and no one knows what we're doing up here." Harry grunts as he thrusts into you, drawing out another, yet much heavier, moan from your chest. It's followed by a pleased groan from behind you, the sound almost as good as any song he's ever sung. "But I wouldn't care if they did… if they saw how well you're taking me… and if they heard much you love it."

"Harry…" You whine, as an extreme sensation builds in your core, feeling every nerve peek, alerting you to the fact that at any moment now, you'll be completely taken over by the intense amount of pleasure he's giving you. "I need to-"

"No." He states sternly.

"Please!" You beg, all dignity being tossed aside.

"Not yet." He replies, and all of a sudden, you feel hollow. Something is missing, and as you feel yourself clear out from the heightened state of a daze you've been in since you reached that second level of the venue, you realize his glorious cock is no longer inside of you.

"What-" You begin, stepping back and turning around to face him, finding his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, creating an even stronger desire to have him fill the gap again.

"I need to fuck you harder, and faster." He explains grabbing both hips as he backs up and lowers down to take a seat on the sofa. "And I need to watch you when you cum all over my cock."

A shallow breath makes its way out between your lips at his statement, and you slowly lower yourself to straddle his lap, feeling a throb inside yourself as you feel another underneath you.

Your hips begin to grind on him, hoping to create an impatience in him as strong as the one in you. You cup his cheeks within your palms and bring your lips to his, smiling against them as they part and release a deep moan. You move to kiss his jaw, letting the stubble tickle your skin and you make your way down his neck. His hands begin to roam your body, exploring more than they had been able to when standing at the railing. They grip your back, your waist, and settle at your hips, gripping just tight enough to guide them back and forth.

"All I've thought about tonight… is having you like this." You hear him utter, the words hitting deep into the pit of your stomach. "Hell, all I think about most nights is… fuck… is having you like this!"

You pull back, your eyes immediately locking in on his, as if your bodies are confessing their deepest desires to each other in a secret, seductive language. Without a word, you push up on your knees, hovering over and inviting him back inside of you, where you want him the most. One of his hands holds his cock steady as the other remains on you, helping you to lower back down onto him. In this position, you can feel him ever more, much to your surprise considering he filled you so well just moments ago.

"Then fuck me how you've been wanting to." You state, your focus still fully on him.

As soon as he's given that permission, both palms squeeze tighter to your body, pulling you down on his cock as if to meld your bodies together.

"Oh god." He exclaims, throwing his head backwards to rest on the sofa, dropping his mouth open as you begin to bounce.

Almost instantly, with the new depth he's hitting, you feel your body reignited and a release drawing near.

"Harry, this is…" You mumble, the pleasure hindering a complete coherent sentence. "It's… how…"

"Tell me, baby." He replies, holding you down as he starts to thrust up into you, leaving you unable to feel anything other than him.

"This is how… oh my-… I've been wanting you… to fuck me, too…"

"F-... fucks sake!" He exclaims, no longer holding back his vigor as he goes as fast and gets as deep as he possibly can, causing moans to burst out from both of you.

"Harr-... I'm gon-..." You whine, trying to plead with him to get you over the edge and fall into a pool of ecstasy. The sight of his hair becoming messy with sweat, the feel of his hands holding you down, the taste of his skin on your lips, the smell of his cologne exuding off his chest, the sound of his breathy moans in your ear. He has completely taken over all of your senses, and you know this is the best experience you've ever had.

"Say it, YN. Look at me and say it." He growls, and as your eyes find his, the amount of lust in his begins to push you off the ledge.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Where?"

"On your cock!" You blurt, the level of volume coinciding with the intensity of your desperation. "I'm gonna cum on your cock."

"Do it." He commands, and with his permission, you immediately let go, completely melting into him as that desired ecstasy rips through your entire body.

Your face falls into the crook of his neck, only leaving enough room to draw in some shallow, labored breaths. You can feel Harry squirm beneath you, his stride becoming less rhythmic with each stroke into you, his chest rising and falling in the same, unsteady way.

"YN… if I can't cum inside you, tell me now, 'cause I'm… fuck, I'm so close."

Your head lifts and pulls away, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, pupils blown and a glaze covering them. You lean down to his ear, letting your breath puff gently over his skin.

"Cum inside of me, Harry." You whisper, placing a kiss right below his ear.

"Y-yeah? You want my cum?" He fumbles, his breathing becoming more random with every sloppy thrust. "I'll give you… f-fucking all of it!"

Harry grips tighter, bouncing you on himself with a determination you aren't sure if you've ever seen before. He lets out a moan so gritty you know it originated deep in his chest. The sound alone could have you orgasming again if it drew out a few seconds longer. It's accompanied by one last thrust of his hips and a powerful, pleased throbbing of his cock, as his cum coats your walls.

If the dj wasn't blasting anything through the speakers, the sound of your synchronized, labored breaths would be enough to fill the room. You sit up straighter, still straddling Harry's lap, and you finally take in the mess of a man in front of you. His head still rests back on the sofa, his eyes now shut, and a blissful smile stretched across his face.

"That's one way to finish a tour." You chuckle, pushing your palms against the fabric of the shirt now sticking to the drizzle of sweat on his chest.

His palms shoot up to your face, holding it so gently, but with an untapped passion behind his eyes. They flicker to your lips and he dives in for a taste, running his tongue along to part them, and sighing as your own tongue dances along. A pop sounds out as you pull apart, with just enough room for an inhale of air, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"And cheers to the next one."

Main Masterlist

•••

If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 🩷 Bee xx

•••

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @lomlhstyles @vrittivsanghavi @fdl305 @sunflowersloverr

[lloydskywalkers]

drywall

went to go work on raising hell and ended up missing Skylor, so!! I will always have so many emotions about s8/9 and the aftermath of it, here's another gallon of them.

Two months after they’ve taken back the city and the street lights are finally starting to work again, Lloyd shows up at the restaurant an hour past closing time, sporting a spectacular bruise and enough blood across his gi to make the Ninjago City Blood Drive team’s day. 

“Hi, Sky.” Lloyd waltzes — or attempts to, it’s more of a stumbling collapse — right in as if nothing’s amiss in the slightest. “Sorry, I’m, uh. Was in the neighborhood and I wasn’ sure…where else t’ go.”

Skylor, still frozen over a stained tabletop with her dishtowel in hand, stares at him. 

All things considered, she should be fully prepared for something like this. It should practically be in her restaurant’s training manual, that at some point you’ll end up confronted with a bloody, half-dead ninja in your door. But given how slow the past few weeks have been, coupled with the sheer exhaustion of dealing with the lunch rush and the dinner rush and the late-night somewhat-inebriated people rush, her guard is apparently down enough to leave her reacting with a simple, useless, “Oh god.”

“Tha’s my grandfather,” Lloyd says. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth — coupled with the bruising, Skylor thinks (hopes) it’s simply from split skin or a bitten cheek, instead of crippling internal bleeding. 

Crippling internal bleeding is enough of a concern to finally spur her into action, dropping her towel and rushing over to help Lloyd finish stumbling through the door. She spares a moment of thanks, that there’s even a door at all — repairs in the city have been slow, since Harumi’s brief reign of terror, and the insurance provider is still holding out on her. 

But the door was a good thing to prioritize, she thinks, bolting it firmly behind them. 

“Sorry, again,” Lloyd murmurs. His jaw is working in the tight way it does when he’s biting back pain, his bottom lip bruised and bleeding. Skylor’s stomach twists. 

You’d think, after all she’s been through, she’d be more accustomed to seeing the people she cares about in pain. That she’d be desensitized enough, to fight back the aching nausea and the gnawing desire to look away. 

Or maybe she’s just a coward. That would track, she thinks. 

“Shush,” she says instead, maneuvering Lloyd further into one of the nicer booths, careful of the blood that’s…everywhere. “What did you do to yourself this time, huh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd grumbles, his voice steadier now that he’s sitting down. Unfortunately, he’s only paler under the yellowy restaurant lights, and the blood looks about ten times worse. “I just…slipped. A bit.”

Slipped. Skylor could smack him, if he wasn’t already hurt. 

“Lemme see, then.” She bends down to where she can tug the folds of his gi back, trying to trace the blood to a source. She finally finds it — an ugly wound in his left shoulder, several long gashes across his forearm. A knife, maybe. Possibly a sword, but it looks close-up and quick. It’d need to have been quick, for whoever was wielding it to land this many hits. 

Or Lloyd would have to be sloppy. 

Lloyd gives a stifled, shuddery exhale, a dangerous preamble to tears. Skylor pauses, just for a moment, and deliberates. 

She’s got Nya’s number, carefully keyed into her phone ever since she and Kai started visiting the noodle house. There’s no doubt in her mind that she’d want to know about this — and there’s less doubt that Kai would want to know. if anything, she’s surprised he hasn’t burst through the restaurant doors already, summoned by whatever sixth sense he has that goes off when Lloyd’s in danger. 

But Skylor also knows there’s got to be a reason that Lloyd came here, despite his claims. Just as there’s probably a reason he didn’t call Kai or Nya, or any of the others. 

And perhaps she feels just a little proud, that Lloyd’s chosen her to come to. 

It’s quickly lost in the blood that coats her hands as she begins patching the wound in his shoulder, but the feeling’s there nonetheless. 

It’s a nice feeling, being relied on. Being trusted. 

“Who got you this bad?”

She speaks up mostly to break the quiet. Lloyd isn’t quite like Kai, who likes talking simply to fill a space, but she knows he isn’t fond of silence, either. It’s one of the things they share in common. 

“No one.” Lloyd sucks in a breath as she draws the bandage tight across his shoulder, wrapping it beneath his arm and back over. His eyes close briefly as she ties it off, forehead scrunching up, before he lets out another shuddery exhale. “Some guy, uh — guy on the way home, near the subway. I had answered a call earlier, and I guess — ow, hey—” 

“Sorry,” Skylor winces, as she finishes dumping antiseptic across the slashes on his arm. “It hurts less if you aren’t expecting it.”

“That’s a lie,” Lloyd says, pointedly. 

She shrugs. “So, random subway mugger?”

Lloyd looks away, his cheeks darkening. It’s a relief, to see any color in his face at all. “Sort of.”

He leaves it at that, lapsing back into silence. Skylor looks down, focusing on the butterfly stitches she’s placing across his arm. Were it anyone else, she’d have panicked for actual stitches, but Lloyd heals with an uncanny quickness. She remembers Nya complaining about it, back during the Resistance — how Lloyd threw a fit when his skin healed over the stitches, and they’d had to cut him open all over again. 

She’d probably throw a fit of her own, to be fair. 

“Well, if you see him,” she says, reaching for the roll of bandages. “Point him out. I could use a punching bag.”

Lloyd’s lips quirk, a ghost of a smile. 

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet enough she might’ve missed it, if they were any further apart. Skylor doesn’t miss the meaning, either. She simply shakes her head, wrapping another layer around his arm. 

“I’m just glad you came to someone,” she says. “Instead of half-assing it yourself.”

Lloyd’s fingers twitch. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

She can’t pretend she doesn’t understand. Her childhood is filled with fun little memories of patching herself together, hiding wounds from Clouse or her father in an attempt to convince them she was better than she was.

Not that the people Lloyd is hiding from are anything remotely like her father, of course, but there’s an overlap between people you fear and people you love, and trying to convince them you’re stronger than you are. 

“That should do it,” she nods to herself, surveying her work. She feels unusually proud of herself — Skylor’s never really stayed with a team long enough to have many chances to patch people up. It’s rarer that people are so open to her touching them, once they’ve learned what her power is. The ninja are an exceedingly kind exception, but it still makes her feel warm, being given this kind of trust. 

She glances up, eyeing her patient. Lloyd’s still pale, but it’s far better than the ashy color from earlier anymore. “Anywhere else?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at the strip of bandages across his arms, shoulders hunched over on himself.

“I have Nya on speed dial, you know—”

“Its just a few scrapes,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Skylor sighs. “Lemme see.”

Lloyd grumbles, but he lets her grab his arm again, wincing as she dabs antiseptic over the smaller cuts. There’s nothing serious — just a few nicks and scratches, the kind you get from eating the ground mid-fight. He’s got one uglier scrape, but it’s about as nasty as a skinned knee, and easily eclipsed by the scar it bleeds through. 

Her fingers falter. She knows this scar — she was there when Kai struggled to patch the wound it once was, back on her father’s island. It’s an ugly, jagged scar, a testament to how Kai’s hands had shook as he’d tried to be gentle. 

In hindsight, it had been a terrible moment. Kai wasn’t sure if Lloyd had picked up the wound from the underground tunnels, Chen’s cultists, or his own brief slip into the madness of the staff. Lloyd wouldn’t say where it was from, even if either of them had been much for talking. And Skylor had been an awkward, purple-scaled fixture next to them, holding the medical kit while the others planned how to kill her father. 

And yet, it was the lightest she’d ever felt. 

Skylor bites her lip. 

She’s never told Lloyd, what exactly he’d meant to her. He likely has no idea, what he’d represented when she’d first met him. 

The son of one of Ninjago’s greatest villains — and people loved him. 

Kai loved him. 

If Lloyd could overcome the hurdle of his parentage and choose to live the way he wanted, if people could look past the dark stain of his legacy and love him anyways, then maybe—

He’d been hope, when she needed it most. And Kai had lived up to that hope, taking Skylor’s half-formed, frail dream and fueling it into a blaze.

Her eyes close, briefly, and she shivers. 

“Are you okay?”

Blinking her eyes back open, she comes face to face with Lloyd’s concerned expression. She shakes her head, looking away. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Embarrassment pulls at her. “Just a bit of…aftershocks. You know.”

Lloyd frowns, clearly not knowing. “Aftershocks,” he repeats. “From…”

His eyes go wide, only for his expression to immediately crumple. “Oh.”

Skylor waves her hands. “It’s not bad,” she reassures him. “I can barely feel him — his power — anymore. Just pins and needles in my hands sometimes, that’s all. Totally…totally normal.”

She hopes. Garmadon’s power had burned, in the way bitter cold feels against your skin, so a bit of numbness is pretty decent tradeoff, if she says so herself. 

Lloyd looks down, expression shadowed and hidden. Skylor could curse herself — she knows better, than to bring up—

“Here.” Lloyd’s suddenly holding his hand out, looking at her earnestly. It’s an almost childish expression of sincerity, one that makes him look much younger — a little more like the Lloyd she met on her father’s island, who beamed when his father ruffled his hair. 

Her chest aches fiercely, and Skylor holds out her hand before she can hesitate. Lloyd takes it carefully in his own, and she watches in fascination as the low shimmer of green engulfs her fingers. Lloyd’s power is as gentle as he is — nothing like the ravaging purple storm that was his father’s. 

“Oh,” she says. “That’s nice.”

Lloyd makes a humming noise. “I’ve been practicing. H-his power doesn’t get along with mine, that much. So it kinda…makes room. For whoever’s stronger, at the moment.”

Skylor fights back a shudder. Realistically, she knows she shouldn’t feel ashamed, that Garmadon overpowered her — he’s Garmadon. The reminder of how his power felt still stings, though. 

It’s a reassurance, that Lloyd’s power is stronger now. His element, if you can even call it that, is probably the one she’s the least familiar with — she’s never tried to copy Lloyd’s power. She isn’t entirely sure if she could, or if she should. Dipping into Garmadon’s power was dangerous enough. Skylor isn’t stupid enough to pretend she has the willpower to meddle with the power of the FSM’s family much more than that. 

“It feels like cheating, kinda,” she finally says. “That fighting fuels his power. How are you supposed to fight back?”

Lloyd shrugs, letting her hand go. “You don’t. You get really good at dodging.”

Skylor leans forward, propping her chin up in her palms. “That’s stupid.”

“Well,” Lloyd’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit. “That’s Garmadon, so.”

His expression immediately fractures, and Skylor can spot the battle in his eyes as he tries to grasp for composure. Her teeth worry at her lip.

She should really call Nya, now. Or try to track down Kai’s number. Or anyone else — it’s nearly two hours past closing, the kitchen’s still a mess, and Lloyd’s blood is all over her dishrags. Lloyd himself is hardly in better shape, the ghostly pale of his skin reminding her horribly of when she first saved them from the Sons of Garmadon, and Skylor is—

Not enough. 

She ought to know that, by now.

But the fact still stands, that Lloyd came to her. A part of her clings to that, and another selfish, awful part of her, the part that festered on her father’s island for so many years, the part that still flinches beneath the weight of her last name — well. 

Misery loves company, is probably the best way to put it. 

“I should…I should probably get going,” Lloyd says, uncertainly. He doesn’t make any move to get up, though, still small and weary where he’s hunched up in her booth. 

Skylor stares at him, and thinks of sitting for hours on the edge of her father’s island, staring at the sun on the water until her eyes ached. 

“Hey,” she says, a bit breathless, twisting her fingers together. “Wanna go skip rocks?”

Quite fairly, Lloyd stares at her like she’s lost her mind. 

They end up on the rickety end of one of Ninjago City’s abandoned docks anyways, a mismatched selection of somewhat flat rocks spilling out of a Chen’s to-go bag. Lloyd’s left arm is tied up in a mangled sort of sling they fashioned from Skylor’s old sweatshirt, leaving him to turn a rock over in his right hand awkwardly. 

“So, funny thing,” he says. “I don’t, uh. I’m not very good at this.”

“That’s okay,” Skylor says, sifting through the rocks they’ve gathered. “I’m not, either.”

“Yeah?” Lloyd sounds hopeful. “I mean, you at least know the trick to it, right?”

“I don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ve never…I’ve never skipped rocks before.”

Lloyd stares at her. 

“It’s not that weird,” she huffs, fighting back the urge to hide. “I mean, I never really had the chance, but I aways thought — I grew up near the ocean, and all these lakes, so I always thought it’d be fun to, y’know, skip rocks, since I didn’t really have…anyone else, to…”

The rest of the sentence is about to turn even more humiliating, so it’s a relief when Lloyd interrupts her. 

“I haven’t either.” 

He immediately flushes. “That’s why I’m not good at it.’Cause I’ve never actually skipped rocks.” 

“Oh.” Skylor looks at their bag, then back up at him. “Well, cool. We’ll both suck, then.”

“How hard can it be, anyways?” Lloyd says, sorting through their rocks. “You just find a flat one, right?”

“Yeah,” Skylor says. “Then you sort of just, frisbee it. I think.”

“Hm.”

“You haven’t thrown a frisbee either, have you.”

“Oh, like you have.”

Skylor presses her lips together, snorting. “Was wondering when your snark was gonna show back up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not remember half the stuff that came out of your mouth, back at the tournament?”

“You would’ve been out of your mind too, if you had to herd the guys around then — also, bold words coming from you, ooh, how dare you call me a traitor, even though it’s totally dead-on—”

“That wasn’t even close to what I said, and also—” Skylor snatches a smooth rock before Lloyd can, hefting it up. “It’s not like I was gonna admit to you all I was a traitor. That defeats the whole purpose of betraying. Lying my way out of a corner was the smart choice.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lloyd mutters, as Skylor flings her rock across the water.

They both watch as it splashes sadly, sinking instantly like, well. A rock. 

“Okay,” Skylor cringes. “That was a warm-up.”

Several warm-ups later, neither of them have made any progress whatsoever, save to torment whatever fish are hanging out on this side of Ninjago City’s harbor with relentless rock barrages. 

“This is ridiculous,” Lloyd huffs, watching as his rock all but torpedoes into the water. “What’s wrong with us, that we can’t get one stupid rock to skip?”

“Maybe it’s in the wrist?” Skylor flexes her hand, angling it one way then another. She winds ups, throws the rock out, and — nope. 

“I think we’re getting worse,” Lloyd remarks as Skylor sputters, wiping the seawater that splashed up from her face. 

She can’t help but agree. They’re down to a few rocks left, and neither of them have made any progress, much less skipped a single rock. At some point, they give up altogether, seeing who can throw their rock out the furthest instead. 

“This one’s going…” Lloyd raises his arm, closing one eye and squinting as he angles higher. He finally pauses with his hand pointing upwards toward Ninjago City. “Right through that weird oval thing on Borg Tower.” 

“Don’t hit it too hard,” Skylor says. “They just got it back up last week.”

“I’m not hitting it, it’s going through it, weren’t you listening?”

“To you? Nah. I’ve heard you suck at public speaking.”

“Wow, after you forced me into the live broadcast and everything—”

As if to emphasize his distress, Lloyd takes a running start, hurling the rock forward. They watch as it arcs across the skyline, before plummeting somewhere in the harbor. 

“So close,” Skylor murmurs. 

Lloyd flops on the ground with a dull thump, legs sprawling in front of him as he leans back on his elbows. Skylor’s makeshift sling isn’t doing much at all anymore, though it looks like he doesn’t need it to.

That, or he’s hiding pain stupidly well. Which wouldn’t be surprising, if disappointing. 

“Defeated,” he mourns. “Overthrown by rocks.”

Skylor dusts gingerly at the ground before sitting next to him. “They sure got the best of us, this time.”

“Maybe it’s a learning curve,” he says. “That or we missed, like, the optimal rock-skipping development time.”

“Mmh. Maybe we need to recruit a teacher who actually had a decent childhood.”

“If you find someone, lemme know.”

They both laugh, breathless and hollow, because they’re not much else they can say, to that. 

Lloyd sits up suddenly, pulling his knees to his chest. His arms wrap tightly around them, eyes glued forward. Instead of asking, Skylor follows his gaze to the skyline of Ninjago City, the darkened scars left behind by Garmadon and Harumi painfully pronounced this late at night. 

It couldn’t have been longer than two weeks, could it? Their rule over the city?

It feels like years.

She can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for the others — can’t imagine what it was like, ending it. 

It pains her, but Skylor doesn’t remember much of Garmadon’s defeat. She’d thrown everything she had into controlling his power, and when it had snapped back on her, ravaging through her like a cloying poison, everything had gone dark and hazy. 

It kind of sucks, because she’d done all that just to miss the most important parts, but…it is what it is.

What she does remember, besides Nya’s steady voice and Dareth’s panicked yelling, is the blazing warmth that was Lloyd carrying her.

That and his painfully bony shoulder digging into her stomach. 

“I was trying not to get us crushed,” Lloyd mutters, cheeks turning pink. “Sorry my shoulder wasn’t up to cushion-y standards.”

“And I’m trying to say thank you,” Skylor sighs. “But seriously. Put something on those bones.”

“Meh meh meh,” Lloyd mocks. There’s a lack of his usual energy in the action, the dullness to his eyes only made worse by the bruise-like circles beneath them. But it’s still very Lloyd — a flash of the friend she knows. 

“I really do mean it,” she says. “Thank you. For carrying me out of there. For saving me.”

Lloyd stares at her with dark eyes. Not as dark as they were, back when he’d lost his power, but the glow is almost entirely absent.

“You shouldn’t—” he bites off, frustrated. He tosses the rock he’s holding, up and down. “It was never a question.”

He glances at her. “Besides,” and there’s the closest she’s seen to a real smile. “You saved us first.”

Not nearly soon enough, she thinks. 

She should’ve told him, should have asked — should have let him know how it felt to watch her father fall deeper into madness, told him what it felt like to lose hope — what it meant, to move on. 

To cut ties, before they strangled you. 

“How are you,” she says, as gently as she can. Then, because gentle doesn’t always get you through the walls they build— “For real. Not how people want to hear you’re doing, or the answer you think they want. How are you.” 

Lloyd stiffens. There’s a flicker of fear in his expression, his mouth moving on instinct. 

“I’m doing okay.”

Tremors lace through his hand where he holds the rock, shuddering fingers tracing over the rough surface. 

“Okay as I can be.” He looks down, the rock slipping from his fingers as his arms wrap around himself. “I know that isn’t the answer you want, but I don’t…”

He looks back up, the lights of Ninjago City misty in his eyes.  

“I don’t know what people want me to say,” he whispers. 

Skylor wishes he’d screamed it. Wishes he’d snap, wishes he’d find the anger where it simmers inside him and turn it outwards against the world, rather than violently projecting it inwards like a masochistic missile all the time. Anything at all, instead of this hollow brokenness. 

It reminds Skylor a bit too much of—

Well. 

“I know I — things are—” Lloyd swallows. He pauses, raising his hand to scrub at an already-bloodshot eye. “Everything happened so fast. It was like — like getting hit with a bus, then another bus, then she — put the bus in reverse and ran me back over, and I never really had the chance to…to…”

“To get back up?”

Lloyd nods. He picks absently at a bloodstained patch on the leg of his gi. “And I know that’s just a stupid metaphor, but getting back up is…it’s really—”

Lloyd’s pulling threads loose now, tugging hard enough that he’s likely to start unraveling holes in his gi. 

“Can I tell you something? Something that’s not…not so good.”

“Hey, you know me.” Skylor elbows him. “I’m an expert at not-good.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a little too knowing. “You’re really not.”

And she’d turn a mirror on him, if she could. “What is it, then?”

Lloyd looks away, one unusually-sharp tooth gnawing at his lip. 

“I know my dad — my dad I used to have — he loved me. I know he did.” Lloyd sounds, rather devastatingly, like he’s trying to convince himself. “But now that he’s…now that he’s like this, and after everything that happened, I almost wish — I almost—”

He cuts off, covering his face with his hands. “Never mind.”

Skylor stays still, her gaze fixed ahead on a dark spot in the city skyline. If it were her, she’d want—

Lloyd’s voice is a muffled whisper. “I wish he’d never loved me at all.”

Skylor lets out a long, shaky breath. 

Lloyd gives a dry, horrible kind of laugh. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s so selfish, it’s — I’m a horrible person, for thinking that way. But it — it hurts now, to think that — that maybe, now that I’m different — and her — that even my dad—” 

“It hurts,” she murmurs. “To lose it. To think that it’s your fault.”

Lloyd brings his arms over his head, the bandages on his left arm a stark white in the dimness as he buries his face in his knees. Curling up, as if he can make himself small enough the world will finally forget he exists. 

Skylor’s…familiar. 

But then again, is she? 

She swallows. Her father was one thing, but if — if he came back now, after she’s worked so hard to move on — at the height of his madness, what would she do? 

She’s out of her depth, as she’s always been.

But there was a reason she answered the call so fervently, a reason she followed Lloyd without hesitation. Skylor doesn’t put much stock in the Green Ninja, doesn’t put much in any kind of prophecy. But she does care, very much, about Lloyd, and she thinks that’ll take her a bit farther.

“You know.” She looks down, running her finger over their last rock. “You were one of the first people that gave me any hope that I could change. That, uh, someone could love me.”

Lloyd startles, emerging just enough that she can see the green of an eye. “Huh? Me?”

She nods. “Back on my father’s island, during the tournament. I was convinced that…that after everything I’d done, with who I was, there wasn’t a chance I’d find someone who loved me.”

Lloyd frowns, lowering his arms so he can look at her fully. “But I didn’t — Kai was the one who reached out to you. He was the one that saw you. I didn’t…I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yeah. He did. But he reached out to you, first.”

Lloyd stares at her, eyes wide. Skylor smiles at him. “You were good. No matter how bad your family had been. And it…it had been okay, for you.” 

The mistiness returns to Lloyd’s eyes as he looks back to the skyline, his lip caught tightly between his teeth. 

“We’re doing okay, right?” Skylor pulls her own knees up to her chest. “You and me. I mean, we helped, a lot. We fought back for the city. You did a lot more than me, obviously, but—”

“Don’t say that,” Lloyd sounds pained. “Don’t compare it, like I’m — I do a lot more harm than good, sometimes.”

“You don’t say that,” Skylor snaps. 

Lloyd flinches. She bows her head, staring down at her feet. 

“We’re good,” she says, hating the way her voice wobbles. “We’re different.”

It’s occurring to her, how cold it is out here on the water. She hopes Lloyd doesn’t get home with a cold, on top of everything else. 

“We’re different,” Lloyd echoes.

“Yeah.” Skylor swallows. “That has to count for something, right?”

Lloyd makes a small noise, but it isn’t one of disagreement. There’s a rustling as he reaches for the bag, then holds out their final, sad rock. 

“Wanna give it the last try?” He gives her a crooked, half smile. “Make it count?”

Her fingers close over the rough surface, cold against the warmth of his hand. 

The brightness of the sun against water on her father’s island in her eyes, Skylor flings the rock as hard as she can, far enough that it’s swallowed entirely by the harbor darkness. 

If she tries, she can imagine it skipping, just once, across the freezing waters. 

She tells herself, it counts anyways.