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MasterLloyd x reader smut 18+ nsfw

warnings: rough sex, cum play, size kink, breeding kink, choking, Dom!Lloyd, manhandling, restrained wrists, aftercare if you squint.

The sun hung low over the training courtyard, casting long golden streaks across the polished tiles where Sora and Arin moved in tandem under Lloyd’s stern gaze. He moved like a blade—sharp, controlled, every muscle taut under the thin white gi that clung to his torso, fabric soaked in places with sweat that glinted in the light. His sleeves were pushed back to the elbows, revealing forearms veined and strong, flexing each time he corrected Arin’s stance or deflected Sora’s strikes with effortless precision.

But it was the bandana that did it.

That bright green cloth tied around his brow, dampened with sweat, loose strands of blond hair curling around it—it crowned him, made him look half-warrior, half-god. It wasn’t fair. That headband had no right to make him look so fucking dominant and fuckable.

You leaned against the wall with a water bottle in hand, barely pretending to watch the kids. Your eyes were all for him. The way his muscles rolled under his gi when he moved, how his voice dropped when giving a command, the barely leashed authority in every movement—it had your thighs clenching in silence.

Then it happened. He looked at you.

Just a flick of the eyes during a lull in sparring, but the smirk that tugged at his lips said everything. He saw your flushed cheeks. He knew.

Later, the kids were dismissed. And Lloyd stalked over to you the moment the gates closed behind them.

“Thought you were being real cute over there,” he murmured as he cornered you against the wall, his breath already warm against your cheek, “starin’ like that. You think I didn’t notice?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he cut in, low and dark, pressing you back with his body, hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “You were watching me like you were about to drop to your knees right there. Is that what you want, baby? You want your Master?”

The word made your knees buckle, and he caught your thigh, gripping tight. He chuckled, lips brushing your ear.

“Upstairs. Now.”

You barely made it to the bedroom before he shoved you face-first onto the bed, tearing your clothes off with practiced urgency. You gasped at the sudden chill of the air, then moaned when his hands were on you—everywhere—palming your breasts, squeezing your hips, dragging you backward until your ass was pressed flush to his already hard dick.

“You know what this outfit does to you,” you whined, voice muffled against the sheets. “You know.”

“Yeah?” he muttered, tugging the green bandana from his head and twisting it in his hands. “Then maybe I should teach you a fuckin’ lesson for staring.”

He grabbed both your wrists and yanked them behind your back, binding them with the damp bandana, the fabric still warm from his sweat. The knot was tight, secure, pulling your shoulders back, arching your spine.

And then he stripped. You didn’t have to see him to feel the weight of his cock as it brushed against your thigh—thick, heavy, hard. When he lined up behind you, dragging his length slowly through your folds, it made your back arch even further, your toes curling.

“You’re dripping,” he hissed. “All from watching me train. Fuck, that’s pathetic.”

You whimpered—then screamed when he thrust in hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke that made your whole body seize. He was massive—stretching you past what felt possible, splitting you open with each thick inch. Your bound wrists twisted behind you, useless against the force of his hips as he began to pound.

“L-Lloyd—!”

“You take it,” he growled, one hand in your hair, the other pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you down. “You take every inch. You like it when I fuck you dumb?”

“Y-yes, yes—! So full, ffuck—!”

“That’s right. Can feel it in your guts. Gonna fill you up till I break you.”

His balls slapped against your soaked pussy, each thrust accompanied by loud, wet smacks. Your cunt clenched down, spasming around his cock with every brutal stroke, your body drooling slick onto the sheets.

He reached down and slapped your ass hard—once, twice—then gripped both cheeks and spread you wide, watching himself fuck in and out of you.

“Look at that,” he muttered, voice tight. “You’re stretched wide open. Bet you can feel me in your fucking womb.”

You could. God, you could. And it was too much. Too thick. Too deep. You were delirious, drooling against the bedspread, sobbing, your walls fluttering around him in desperate spasms.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty thing? Huh?”

“Please—please”

He pressed a hand around your throat, dragging your head back so you could gasp for air—just enough—before he fucked harder. Deeper. You screamed, body convulsing, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning.

But he didn’t stop.

“Gonna cum so deep in this tight little pussy you’ll be leaking for days.”

“D-do it—please—please!”

He growled something incoherent, yanked you up by the bandana at your wrists, and slammed into you one last time, balls tight, cock throbbing.

Then he came.

Hot. Endless. A flood of cum spilling into your womb, thick and warm and so much, it forced a moan from your lips. You could feel it—ropes of it, jet after jet painting your insides, coating every inch of your pulsing cunt.

He held there, buried, cock twitching inside you.

You collapsed forward, breath gone, body trembling, still bound. Lloyd leaned over you, lips brushing your ear.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered. “Took it all. So proud of you.”

Then he pulled out, slowly, and you felt it—his cum leaking from your sore, gaping hole. He knelt between your thighs and used two fingers to spread you open, watching it drip.

“Look at that mess. Fuck, I’m gonna need to stuff it back in, huh?”

He did—fingers pushing his spend back into your cunt, slow and indulgent, while you whined beneath him from the overstimulation. His voice dropped soft again, coaxing, praising.

“Shh. You did perfect. Just relax now. I got you.”

And he untied the bandana, kissed your wrists, kissed your spine, your shoulder. Gathered you into his arms, still naked and wrecked, and laid you in his lap like you were something precious. Something his.

“Next time you stare like that,” he whispered, lips brushing your temple, “I’m fucking you right in the training yard.”

“Poor Arin and Sora…” You mumbled.

Reblog and like if you liked this :3 this is my second smut dunno i just got inspired watching master lloyd again and i want him sooo bad, such a pure golden boy 😔 lemme hit dat

bye bye love yalll!!!