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Lloyd’s gut twists uneasily as she watches the crowd disperse. Nya and the others are halfway across the street when she turns back with a question written all over her face – and Lloyd has half a mind to forgo her half-assed plan and walk back to their tournament quarters, but she stays put.
I have to do something, she mouths silently, knowing she won’t be heard across all the commotion. Nya purses her lips, like she’s about to say something, about to turn back and drag Lloyd back to bed. Instead, she just nods. Lloyd feels her shoulders loosen up with tension she didn’t realize she was carrying as she watches her ponytail disappear in the distance.
Overtly conscious, Lloyd nervously cards through her own hair, twisting her split ends in between her fingers. Then, when she’s certain that her friends are all out of her vicinity, she stalks to the tournament quarters on the east side of the main courtyard of the city, her footsteps hasty and hands wrung in a disconcerting amalgamation of frustration and fluttering nerves.
Lloyd slinks around the quarters, approaching a line of doors that, pretty sure that one of them is Ras’ and co. Her plan is simple, albeit admittedly not one of her brighter ones. But Lloyd can’t shake the look of disingenuous fear in Ras’ eyes, the anger that wasn’t quite palpable the way Ras’ anger usually is. (Not that Lloyd pays attention to Ras that closely.)
A door opens, and Lloyd’s heart is in her throat as she shrinks into herself, pressing herself against the wall. It’s dark, and if she doesn’t move, maybe she won’t get caught. But the light of the room pours into the hallway, illuminating the strip of the floor in front of it. The light switch flips off as soon as it was on, though, and there’s a soft padding against the floor. In the dark, Lloyd can barely make out the figure, but there’s no one in the tournament with that height –
Ras.
Her movements are brisk, quick, as Lloyd follows her around the corner. He does his best to keep up, strides long and steps silent. But Ras is grossly hyperaware. So much so that it pisses Lloyd off.
“I can feel your presence,” she snarls, grabbing Lloyd by the collar of her gi and pushing her up against the wall, feet barely touching the floor. If it was anyone else, the feat would almost be impressive.
Lloyd can feel her underwear getting damper the longer Ras holds her there. Her breaths become more short, half-gasps as Ras doesn’t let up. Lloyd wants to fight back, wants to retort with something witty and snappish, but all she can think about is Ras ripping her gi off with her teeth, and is it just Lloyd or is it hot in here –
Lloyd feels feverish at Ras’ prolonged contact.
“If I didn’t know better,” Ras growls, voice low enough that Lloyd could probably come from that alone, “I’d say you’re enjoying this, Master Lloyd.”
Lloyd wants to deny it, opens her mouth to begin to deny it, but all that comes out is this embarrassing whine. She flushes a dark crimson, fumbling for an apology frantically. “I didn’t mean – I’m sorry –” Her voice cracks on the last word, and Ras finally lets her paw up from Lloyd’s neck. The pressure was overstimulating in a way Lloyd could barely handle and yet she’s already missing the way it felt. Lloyd sinks against the wall for support, panting hard.
“Didn’t you?” Her voice is low, sultry in a way that reaches the pit of Lloyd’s stomach and makes her core ache with a filthy kind of want. “Who exactly are you trying to fool here? You, or me?”
“I –” Lloyd is at a loss of words. Her brain is usually able to keep up with her running mouth, but she’s gaping like a fish out of water, searching for something to say. “I came to talk to you about the bot. I know it was you, give it up –”
“It looks like you came for more than that,” Ras says dryly, observantly, not being discreet at all when she looks at the growing wet spot on Lloyd’s pants. Lloyd’s ears go pink.
“That’s none of your business,” she snaps peevishly, but oh, it very much is, and Lloyd can feel the throbbing twinge worsen as she lies. The longer she stands here, still cornered into a wall without Ras’ touch to further her frazzled state, the more she thinks she might cave and take Ras herself. (That would be embarrassing. It’s a good thing Lloyd has self control, then.)
“What would your friends say if they found out?” she counters instead, ignoring Lloyd’s poor attempt at a retort. “Their green savior, all hot and bothered over the enemy, hm?” She hums, a deep sound from the depths of her throat. Lloyd feels all the blood rush to her head, dizzy at the sound.
Lloyd really, really, doesn’t know how much more of this she can take. What she says next is so tremendously stupid, stupid enough to the point she’s certain she’s been possessed by an otherworldly spirit: “Are you going to do something about it, then?” she asks hoarsely.
Ras’ brows are set in a frown, but she isn’t taken aback. “Predictable. Your kind are all the same – depraved, desperate.” She spits out the last word with more malice, making an obvious dig at Lloyd, eyes narrowing further.
Lloyd doesn’t have any ground to stand on to refute the claim. “I said I’m sorry,” she hisses in frustration again. “I obviously didn’t come here for this, but if this is how you’re going to be –”
“How I’m going to be?” Ras repeats, tone bordering on incredulous. “I have the upper hand. Be careful with what you say next, green ninja.” The use of the figurehead is so obviously mocking. Lloyd has never felt less deserving of the title.
Lloyd wants to cry from her humiliating pent up sexual tension and this asinine, shameful ordeal. She wants to go back to her room and shove two fingers deep inside herself to make the dull ache go away and bite down a scream with her pillow and call it a night. She’d rather Ras insist that Lloyd spread her legs and eat her out, though. The latter sounds more promising. Far less probable. It’s also entirely salacious and very unbecoming of the green ninja.
“I can go back to my room and we can forget this ever happened,” Lloyd offers, voice weak.
It’s simple, it’s easy. It’s the best possible outcome, although Lloyd is pretty sure Ras will never forget this. Lloyd won’t either, she can’t forget this – it makes her deeply uncomfortable to think about how she’s been thinking about Ras off late, even before this encounter. Lloyd would like to think that it’s the lack of a sex life that’s deluded her into being attracted to Ras, but that’s… a half-truth. She hasn’t had sex with anyone in the past few years – not since Harumi – but Ras is also objectively attractive. Her impressive stature and dark, soul-searching eyes that make Lloyd’s stomach swoop in a way that keeps Lloyd up at night searching for alleviation is not to be overlooked.
“I don’t think so,” Ras says, lips curling in a sadistic grin, fangs peeking out.
Lloyd blinks slowly. Once, and then twice. She juts her chin upwards and looks up at Ras, trying to play defiant when all she is horribly perverted. “What are you saying, then?”
“You… seem to be in need of relief.” The words are measured. Careful, like Ras is toying with the possibility as she says it, not exactly hesitant, but calculated. “I can help you.”
“What?” Lloyd’s voice goes up an octave, and Ras slaps a paw over her mouth. Lloyd keens at the touch. Ras looks at her, eyes asking an unspoken question of what exactly is wrong with Lloyd, but doesn’t voice it. For the better; Lloyd doesn’t know either.
“Silence,” Ras hisses, angry. “Do you want the entire City of Temples to know what we’re doing in here?”
“Currently, nothing,” Lloyd responds drily, her response muffled through Ras’ paw.
Ras looks miffed. “Do you want my help, or not?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Didn’t you ask me to do something about it, ninja?” She leers, the last word more of an insult than anything. With the way she said it, Lloyd could replace that word with idiot and it’d still fit.
“Yeah, but that’s different. I want it. You’re doing it. Why?”
“Do you intend to keep asking questions till dawn, or would you rather get on with it?”
“Here? In the hallway?” Lloyd asks, equal parts perturbed and scandalized.
Ras makes a face. “No, you fool. The bathroom is down the corner. Where I was initially headed before you so kindly interrupted me.” She hooks her claw on Lloyd’s undershirt, practically dragging Lloyd there.
Few words are exchanged up till Lloyd’s sitting on the sink, pants and underwear pooled at her ankles. She can feel the faucet head against her lower back, but the discomfort is negligible knowing she has Ras in between her thighs.
Ras shoots a brief glance at the soaked underwear, and back up at Lloyd, amused in a condescending way. Like she wants to make fun of Lloyd. (Lloyd wants her to, too, wants to be called an array of degrading names – but she would never utter the sentiment in a million years.)
“Like I said, pathetically predictable.”
Flustered, Lloyd snaps defensively, “You try being the world’s prophesied savior, then. It’s not like I can hook up with whoever I want.”
“And you think I can?” Ras counters, eyebrow cocked. Her arms box Lloyd into her sitting position, hands on the edges of the sink. Her torso is pressed up on the sink, and Lloyd’s legs are spread wide open, but Ras is only looking at Lloyd’s face, which has lustful desperation written all over it.
Lloyd bites her lower lip to stop any sort of noise, and it’s hard enough to draw blood, but a betraying low whimper gives her away. Ras tilts her head, cat-like.
“Hm, needy. I’ll get on with it, then. We don’t have much time before your ninja friends wake up and start making guesses as to where you’re at.” She smiles cruelly. “Although I’m certain they wouldn’t guess like this, with me.”
(Lloyd is so, so disgusting for this. Sick, even.)
It clearly isn’t Ras’ first time, either, with the way she so expertly goes down on Lloyd, head buried in between Lloyd’s thighs, tongue rough as it explores the folds of Lloyd’s sex. Lloyd can feel the fur tickling her stomach through her undershirt, and Lloyd grips the edges of the sink, steeling herself. The fur against her, all over her, her stomach and thighs and clit, all she can think is Ras Ras Ras. Ras pulls away, and Lloyd honest-to-God mewls at the breaking of contact.
“How many can you take?” Ras asks, voice raspy.
“Um, what?”
“Fingers,” Ras supplies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Lloyd blinks, gathering her bearings enough to answer the question. “Three,” she insists, confident. Fortunately (or unfortunately, maybe, if you’re Lloyd), Ras starts with two.
Lloyd can’t think, can’t speak, her vision sparkling with stars till it’s a white blur. Tears bud at the corners of her eyes, but Ras doesn’t let up, never breaking eye contact, which Lloyd is too fucked out to be able to make back, honestly. Ras pushes her fingers further into Lloyd’s clit to the point where it’s bordering on painful. Lloyd’s leaning slightly so Ras has easier access, unobstructed by the sink’s borders.
It feels like Ras’ fingers are reaching into her stomach with the way she’s inside Lloyd, the sharpness of her claws not helping the burning sensation. Lloyd shifts in discomfort, but there’s hardly anywhere to move. Her hipbone hits Ras’ other hand, the one against the sink, but Ras notices Lloyd’s predicament and moves her free hand to Lloyd’s thigh. Ras’ nails lightly dig into the soft flesh, dragging them lightly against her skin and leaving thin red lines in its wake.
Lloyd makes a strangled sort of sound, overwhelmed with the feeling of Ras’ paw on her thigh and two fingers deep in her, and fat, hot tears roll down her cheeks. Her heart is in her throat, and Lloyd pulls Ras in for a sloppy kiss, slick and hot and swapping spit.
“‘m gonna –” Lloyd mumbles, pulling away from Ras, who gasps at their uneven break. “I’m gonna come,” she slurs, eyes half-lidded and glazed over. Ras shifts her hand from her thigh to Lloyd’s core, pressing down hard and –
The orgasm crashes over Lloyd like a tidal wave, the sensation exciting every nerve in her body, and Lloyd gasps raggedly. Her head lolls backwards, meeting the wall behind her. She winces in pain, but the sensation is barely registered enough to overtake Lloyd’s senses. Her thighs shake violently, and her knuckles go white with the way she’s gripping onto Ras’ wrist with one hand and the sink with the other.
Ras finally, finally, pulls out of Lloyd – with a sharp, convulsing intake of breath and tears springing to her eyes once more, Lloyd slumps against the sink, trying to get herself to sit up. Ras swipes her fingers on her tongue, licking Lloyd’s cum off of her fingers. Lloyd is watching her in hazy amazement.
“Do I taste good?” Lloyd asks, eyes wide as she looks up at Ras. Ras doesn’t deign her with a response, the only sound between them being Ras finishing off whatever Lloyd left.
Ras tosses Lloyd’s gi, which had hastily been strewn on the floor in their rush, onto Lloyd’s lap wordlessly. Lloyd slips off the sink, tying it back on over the undershirt she had kept on, pulling her pants back up. The mortification of this endeavor is starting to kick in, more so than before.
“I didn’t know the green ninja was so salacious. How… filthy. Next time, on the battlefield, I won’t be so kind.”
Lloyd ignores the last sentence, stomach flipping.
“Stop calling me that. It’s just… it’s just Lloyd.” The lie burns a hole through her throat. It doesn’t matter if she’s alone, if she’s not in the public eye – she is always the green ninja, she is never just Lloyd.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Lloyd.” Ras says, deeply unimpressed as she walks out, leaving Lloyd alone in the bathroom, on the floor. Lloyd wants to call her back, wait, don’t go –
But she doubts Ras would listen. Lloyd’s head is still spinning from the sheer force of the orgasm she’s just had and Ras’ words.
It takes her a while to push herself up to her knees and walk back to the other side of the city.
When Lloyd is back in her quarters, fully disgusted with herself and half aching for round two, fingers slipping under her covers for a brief moment of some relief, Ras slips out of her shared quarters in effortless silence.
Crimson eyes meet tired, monocoled ones.
“The ninja are… weaker than ever,” Ras tells Bleckt, tone bordering on amused. Her smile curls into something more sinister, crueler, as her fangs peek out at the corner of her lips. “Their master is the most foolish of them all. Their green ninja, Lloyd, cannot lead them to victory in her frenzied state. Their demise is inevitable.”