#and how you approach riding is different based on needs

[moki-dokie]

While all of the above is generally best practice i would like to add some contradictory points from experience, as someone who a) is not a horse expert in any capacity but b) grew up around literal cowboys and horse people who very much were.

Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before. and Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight. Go with OP's advice, absolutely. that is ideal. however, i was never once trained to ride a horse. i was plopped on my grandma's old blue when i was all of 3 and told to hold on. definitely wouldn't recommend this lmao but luckily old blue was about the most 'i don't give a shit whats happening to me' horse on the planet. we didn't have saddles. all bareback baby. he died when i was about 5. the next horse i rode at 8. leo, the most sweet and gentle quarter horse i've ever known. and again it was one of those situations where i just got plopped onto his back - again no saddle - and told to have at it. and boy did i. pure bareback with no bridle is terrifying by the way, at least when you're a small 8 year old. but with a bridle it's actually quite fun. i'm sure it would have been better with actual proper lessons about how to sit a horse, but hey, i managed. i did eventually learn to ride in a saddle which was nice when i wanted him to go fast cause it gave me something to hold onto AND i could get my butt up and off of the seat to negate the hard bouncing, but i actually preferred riding him bareback most of the time. it was more comfortable for my legs and being able to feel him under me made me more in tune with him. but i wouldn't recommend it if you don't have an incredibly gentle and patient horse like he was. and frankly i don't know if i could still ride bareback when i'm closer to 40 now lol even a patient horse has its limits, too. leo bucked me once when i was being a shit and making him go through little puddles that he didn't want to. at the time i didn't understand why puddles would freak a horse out, i thought he was just being stubborn. after about the fifth one he had enough and bucked me right off (another benefit of saddles, yall. harder to go flying off lol) into the mud, but then immediately came over to nose my face and check on me. definitely his way of saying 'i'm sorry i had to do that, but you weren't listening to me.'

leo's 'brother', larry, was a wild-caught mustang who had been tamed/broken by the guy that owned all of our horses, one of the cowboys previously mentioned, my moms bf. larry was temperamental as could be expected, and he was absolutely off limits to ride for anyone other than moms bf. i think he knew i was a small and fragile creature so he was never very mean to me, plus leo protected me from him quite often when larry was in a mood.

the third of our little herd was missy. i think she was a quarter horse too idk. but she was an absolute cunt of a horse. i hated her. she hated me. she hated her owner. she hated the fucking grass. but she tolerated mom enough to let her ride. missy was such a mean horse that she was rarely allowed the full pasture like the boys had, because she'd just follow them around biting them and picking fights. while i could pet and brush and feed larry without worrying too much he was going to hurt me, missy i could not go near. idk what missy's story was, but i suspect she might've been a rescue horse. i've never known another horse as mean as she was. oh and she HATED hats lmao. larry could be ridden bareback by the bf, but missy was saddle only.

when leo started getting a little too old for riding (he was already old when i met him. part of why he was so placid.) moms bf thought, for some dumb fucking reason, to get me this spry young pinto as my own horse that he saw at auction. andy. except this horse was a carriage horse. Never had been ridden. and andy was NOT comfortable with it. I think i was like, 11? when we got him. Again, they plopped me onto him bareback. and in about 0.5 seconds i was flat on my back on the ground. moms bf was like "ah we just need to break him in a little!" so got him saddled up - which was a whole Thing because he hated it - and took him out to the lake to get some practice in where there's a lot of open space. well i got about 15 minutes of a very scary ride in bc this horse did not respond to bridle cues or kicking or... anything. so it was just sort of hold on for dear life while he does his thing. and then he bucked again. except that they hadn't fasted his saddle tight enough and it came off with me, and landed squarely on top of me. and in case yall don't know, saddles are fucking heavy. that was like 25 pounds that came crashing down on top of me and i was extremely fortunate that i didn't break a single thing, cause he bucked hard and to this day i've never been airborn that long lmao. smacked my head hard, had the wind knocked out of me twice, landed on my arm all weird, and was heavily bruised by the saddle. that seemed to convince them that andy was, in fact, not a suitable riding horse for a preteen lol

unfortunately i didn't ride again until my late teens. mom broke up with the dude. bye bye horses. but then i had a bf whose grandparents had some. but uhhh.... draft horses. not riding stock. still, assured me these massive clydesdales didn't mind. so up i went. bareback as usual, wondering if i would even survive being bucked off a beast so large. but hey as it turned out? they were right. the big beefy boy was sweet as could be and didn't mind trotting around with me at all, especially since it meant he got to go out into the pasture for a jog and some grazing. riding entirely bareback on a clydesdale at a gallop is one of those things where you're equal parts terrified and exhilarated. i could barely even sit on him because he was so fucking WIDE. surprisingly tho, very smooth gait with those guys, so i wasn't bouncing around a whole lot. it was incredibly fun. i could barely walk when i got off of him. i loved it. and then the fucker bit me as soon as i turned my back on him LMAO chomped the SHIT out of my bicep for like, not reason??? just to be a cheeky little shit? just to remind me that yeah maybe i got to ride but he's still boss? hell idk. that bruise lasted like a fucking month tho.

annnd the last horse i rode was about... 13? years ago when a friend who owns and professionally rides came to visit so we took her to a friend of a friend who does trail rides. for once i was not plopped onto a horse i didn't know bareback. in fact, i was stuck with a fucking pony bc the lady didn't trust i could handle an actual horse, while my friend got some beautiful appy to ride. i was on this squat... idk, haflinger i think it was. all decked out with fancy tack. apparently the calmest of all her horses. he was, for the most part, but you could sort of tell he resented being ridden. or maybe just didn't like strangers much. idk. there's an energy you get when riding horses and he and i just were NOT vibing much. still a pretty fun ride overall, but i would have liked it a lot better if i were higher up and on a horse that was actually having some fun instead of dragging its hooves begrudgingly LOL

so like, personally i stand by the fact anyone can ride a horse and anyone can ride bareback without much practice but it's going to GREATLY depend on the horse itself rather than the rider. definitely isn't any horse for either of those. if you personally are going to do it, or if you are going to write a scenario like that, it'd better be with a fairly lackadaisical horse.

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Soshiro Hoshina was hard to rile up, but after seeing a certain captain flirting with his girl, it seemed he needed to take matters into his own hands. Maybe he needed to remind you that he was the only one to bring you pleasure, in any shape or form.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.9k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Hoshina. SMUT.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Thigh Riding, Impact Play, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, Narumi being an instigator, Condescention, Choking, Possessive Behavior, Calling Reader 'Kitten', Hair Pulling, Slight Power Dynamics (if you squint).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Here I am once again back on my Hoshina agenda. Welcome to the cult. Listen this has been on my mind since I saw pookie fight for the first time honestly. So please enjoy this very indulgent fic. (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Also, oops its late. The full masterlist for my kinktober can be found here.

There were few things in this world that truly got under Hoshina's skin, in a world with so much devastation he tried to keep things light and only took situations seriously when it mattered. Keeping a smile on his face nearly constantly, being told by his colleagues his inability to take things seriously. However, when it came to you? Hoshina never took things lightly. Your safety and happiness came above all else. It was one of the reasons he detested your shared occupation at times. Dating his subordinate was taboo to say the least, highly frowned upon.

But, just because you both couldn’t explicitly be forthcoming with the nature of your relationship, didn’t mean anyone with a brain in their head could tell there was something at the very least between the both of you. The longing looks sent in eachother’s direction, late nights spent “training” together, the distinct marks that peeked through the collar of your uniform that could have only been left behind by his signature canines. There were more than a few indicators to hint that the both of you were an item, even one particular close call with Kafka before his reassignment in the training room long after lights out. So why was it that he felt the need to flirt with you every time the first and third divisions were forced to be in the same proximity?

Narumi had always had a nasty habit of finding Hoshina’s last nerve and dry humping it. The two divisions both being based in Tokyo, that natural formed rivalry, assisted in the competition between the two men. Often unable to be in the same vicinity as one another without it devolving to the both of them arguing, throwing nasty insults in each other’s direction. However, as of recently, Narumi had begun to take a different approach since your promotion to platoon leader. Whether he knew what was going on between you both or he simply suspected that Hoshina had feelings for you, was still indeterminable by the vice-captain. Regardless of either possibility, he had seemed to make it his mission to not only flirt with you but make comments regarding you consistently while in his presence. Mentions of “how good you filled out your uniform” and how “he’d like to have some private training with you”. Doing anything to get his blood boiling with rage.

What Hoshina didn’t know was Narumi was fully aware there was something going on between you both. He had incredibly good eyes, eyes that had immediately locked in on a peculiar mark that stood proudly against the collar of your uniform. There was also the time he saw you exiting the vice captain's office readjusting your uniform with kiss-swollen lips as he was on his way to discuss a joint training. He just loved how easily Hoshina was riled up, his signature smile growing tight at each mention of you. So when one of his platoon leaders was sent away and an important mission came up for the first division, of course Narumi was strolling into Hoshina’s office cheshire smile stretching his face as he leaned against the door frame advising him he had already spoken with Mina and he’d be borrowing you for a bit.

To say Hoshina was angry was an understatement, he was absolutely livid, but he gritted his teeth and bared it. He was on edge the entire length of your absence. Was a week truly necessary? He perked up like a pathetic puppy as the sound of your laughter met his ears, indicating your return. However, his excitement was quick to melt into jealousy as he watched you stroll in with Narumi, the current source of your laughter. Whatever he said couldn’t have been that damn funny. His sour mood continued long after Narumi’s departure, the two of them exchanging looks, Narumi’s unbelievably smug while Hoshina’s dripped venom, a concealed threat clear in his gaze.

You, oblivious to being the object of their most recent assault on each other, being caught off guard by Hoshina’s change in mood. Normally whenever you were sent away he all but rushed to your side upon your return. The most you got was him gripping your arm, lips pressed against your ear as he spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll be in your room after lights out I want you ready for me, no fucking panties you hear me?” He was already walking off before you could even formulate a response, more than confused by his abnormal behavior. That was how you found yourself in your current position, waiting for his arrival anxiously in nothing but a large sleep shirl.

Hoshina entered your room after a few moments, not even a single word exchanged before pulling you to your feet. His hands cupped your cheeks harshly as he dove to capture your lips with his own. The kiss was intense from the start, a clash of teeth as his tongue immediately bullied its way past your parted lips. He made out with you hungrily, moving to sit himself on the edge of the bed, taking you down with him. You were quick to straddle his lap, whimpering into the kiss as your hips rolled against him in search of some friction. Without warning, the loud echo of a slap rang its way throughout the room. Hoshina’s large palm coming in contact with your ass. The same hand trailed it’s way up your form, fingers curling around your throat, using it as leverage to pull you away from the kiss.

“How was your time in the first division, baby?” There was an air of harshness in his tone, one that told you he clearly had no interest in how your time had been. “Shiro, what..” Your words were quickly cut off by his lips as they crashed against yours once more. Hoshina rarely lost his temper, but there was something about Narumi that agitated him, his comfortability with you had him seeing red. The captain was extremely popular, garnishing more than a bit of female attention. But you were his, Narumi would have to pry you out of Hoshina’s cold dead hands. “Fuck kitten, missed you so bad.” He groaned against your lips. His desperation clear in his voice. Now, you may have been oblivious, but you were by no means stupid. Hoshina’s actions were out of character, and you were fully aware of his distaste for the first-division captain, he was jealous. Of course he was, it all made sense now. “Missed you too baby, so fucking much.” You whispered as best you could in the kiss.

Your words helped qualm is aching envy, even if only a little bit. His hands traveled south, gripping your ass in his grip, another harsh spank delivered to your ass. Sometimes you forgot just how strong your boyfriend was, a stark reminder coming as he manhandled you into straddling one of his thighs as he pulled away from the kiss. “Yeah, baby? Missed me?” He purred, tensing the muscles of the thigh you were sat on, guiding you’re his by the grip he had on your ass until they started moving of their own volition. “Then show me how much you missed me baby, cause you could have fooled me with the way you sauntered back here, giggling with that fucken ass.” Jealousy dripped from his tone, but you were too far gone. So distracted by the rough material of his cargo pants against your bare pussy as you ground you’re his against his thigh. “Fuck, Shiro, need you so bad.” Your voice was dripping with desperation, your cunt already causing a damp patch to form against the material of his pants with how it was crying for him.

Hoshina’s hand came down on your ass a third time, the sting causing tears to form along your lashline, feeling the skin to warm with the impact. “That’s vice-captain, kitten. You could use my name once you’ve fucking earned it.” He growled, hand returning to its previous home around your neck. There was something about when he got like this, it wasn’t often, but when his seriousness only seen when fighting Kaiju bled into your sex life you folded nearly instantly. Unconsciously your hips bucked, your head fuzzy as he applied just enough pressure to constrict your airflow. Your hips moving of their own volition as you grinded against his thigh.

Normally you would find the act degrading, but between missing him and the allure of him being so jealous you couldn’t help but to give into him. “Yes, vice-captain, please need you so bad.” Your compliance brings a smirk to Hoshina’s face, using his grip on your throat as leverage to force your eyes to lock with his. Vermillion boring into your own as he speaks. “That’s my girl, don’t want you to hide a single sound from me, don’t care if the entire division hears you. I’m done with hiding, they can't afford to lose either of us, what are they gonna do? Fire us? Oh fucking well, need everyone to know your mine. Want that fuck to hear you all the way on the other side of Tokyo, kitten.” His words went straight to your cunt, spurring your movements, rutting against his thigh like an animal in heat. Your thighs were already trembling, the drag of his pants against your clit causing your vision to blur. “Please, fuck, vice-captain, please.” You were not even sure what you were begging for at this point, too far gone to think of anything but the pleasure you were on the receiving end of.

Your words had Hoshina letting out a groan, his own head falling back as your thigh brushed his cock. He shuddered, his cock throbbing with need in the confines of his pants, but he needed this. Needed you to come undone without any other stimulation than just his thigh. His hand moved from your throat, burying themselves in your hair, taking a fistful and yanking your head back to look at him once more. “Gods, fucking look at you kitten.” He groaned, you looked absolutely destroyed, eyes lidded with lust, practically drooling at the thought of your impending orgasm. “Go on baby, do it, fucking come for me.” Each of the last three words was punctuated with a rut of his own hips, giving an added layer of friction to your cunt. “Oh fuck, Soshro!” You all but screamed, your head thrown back, the thrusts of your hips growing sloppy as you rode out your high on his thigh, uncaring of your volume. Your eyes blown wide at a newfound sensation in your belly as the coil of your pleasure snapped, squirting against him, successfully drenching the fabric of his pants.

His fingers detached themselves from your hair, cradling you against his chest. Your body was trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. He cooed softly in your ear, rubbing up and down your back in a soothing gesture. All the jealousy melted away as he held you in his arms. “Shhh, my dear, shh. Did so good for me kitten, such a good girl for me.” He reassured between tender kisses pressed against your temple while your head buried itself in his neck while you caught your breath. Once he was sure your breathing had returned to normal, he tilted your chin up to press a sweet kiss against your lips. Pressing his forehead against yours and bumping his nose with yours in a pseudo-kiss. The tender moment didn’t last long before Hoshina grinned. “I’d like to see that two-toned bastard do that. Now come on sweet cheeks, now its my turn to show you how much I missed you, and that I could fuck you better than he ever could, yeah?” You were in for a long evening, and by the end of it you weren't sure if you wanted to thank Narumi or strangle him.

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[mskenway97]

Bot in flames

I have been wanting to write this for a long time and I started thinking about heat cycles in robots.

My mind was focused on bayverse optimus prime and I came up with all this.

Forgive me but I couldn't help but want to XD.

Bayverse Optimus Prime X Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: You are a new mechanic working at NEST after the problems in Egypt, you became very close to the autobot leader, until one moment he started to avoid you, the rest of autobots warnning to you. Until you find out why.

Occurs between revenge of the fallen and dark of the moon.

Words: 2,451

Warnings: heat cycles, belly budge, cumflation, masturbation, multiple orgasm, size difference,possessive, g/t

You had always been interested in technology, you had gone into mechanics although many people would not take you seriously in what you were doing. Until you started seeing something that caught your attention, the Mission City events.

A lot of people said it was a lie, a hoax… Other websites said they had witnesses and testimonies about giant robots. You tried to see more images but nothing.

Everything seemed to be a lie until a giant robot appeared on your TV telling you that you were not alone, that there were more beings in the galaxy. That even though everyone was scared, you were more interested but you were just a mechanic, no matter how much you wanted to meet them you were not going to find them, until you received a letter because of your knowledge, they were needed at the base of NEST.

They blindfolded you and put you in a black car without asking, like the movies, the ride was a bit long until you got to an interrogation room, showing if you had a criminal record, not to reveal the information here without ending up dead. Once finished they took you outside a huge hangar and put you on hold, until a middle-aged man who seemed to be the general, came to pick you up in person.

-Y/N, General Lennox we have seen that your knowledge in mechanics and your project of coexistence between machines and humans is unique. I'm just telling you try to stay calm, you're going to be surrounded by autobots. The first time is usually a surprise.

He wasn't lying when he took me to another hangar with huge beings of different sizes looking at you. I had a feeling of nervousness, butterflies and above all that he would not try to give me a heart attack. It was one thing to see fuzzy pictures on the web sites you had seen and another to see them in person…. Besides your height was not the tallest, you literally understood how the ants felt.

You saw the biggest of them all approaching, it seemed to be the leader, with red and blue flames, with what looked like parts of a truck, despite your situation it seemed interesting to you.

-Y/N, my name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots…. It is a pleasure to meet you, we read your project, it caught our attention, in part we need more human allies that promise us their commitment. If you decide to leave I will understand your motives but if you stay you will be apprenticed to one of our best doctors as well as learning about the coexistence you seek. Do we have your word?

You were trying to calm down when you saw that huge being kneeling in front of you and the rest of them looking at you, seeing that your nervous system was somewhat altered by the situation. Trying to calm down until you felt Lennox's hand on your shoulder as they were waiting for your answer.

You nodded as your mouth had gone dry trying to speak, the giant black robot was amused by your nervousness, he moved closer showing his cannons causing you to stumble to the ground, making him laugh.

-I like this squishy…. I'm going to like working with you

Well in the rest of the news they started to introduce you to the rest of the team, you already knew names like Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Sidewispe, etc. And the rest of the facilities, they put you in charge of working with Ratchet.

The weeks of adaptation were somewhat curious, as you were startled by every scare the twins and Sidewispe gave you.

Ratchet carefully taught you the systems of a robot to take care of them carefully: you learned the different parts of the body of a cybertronian, Ironhide taught you the workings of the weapons although his demonstrations still scared you so much firepower that you reflexively hid behind his leg.

Your favorite sessions were with Optimus, even though he was the biggest of them all, he was very nice to you… You started to get a little more trusting as you told each other about different experiences. He told you about his culture, his planet… You were more and more interested, he was also interested in your customs, your history. Besides, I know that his way of treating you was to carry you in his servos with care, sometimes he was contemplating, with his finger he touched your cheek, it was a strange contact but you felt quite comfortable. He had also put you on his shoulder. You didn't know if it was friendship you had with this bot, but you were happy to finally have a confidant.

You had been in NEST for a few months now, you learned quickly but there was something that had been bothering you in the last week about the behavior of a certain autobot leader.

At first it seemed to you that he was stressed out from the missions in order to find Megatron but every time you were near an Autobot he would get sideways and also with the humans you were working with. You don't talk like before either, every time you tried to talk to him alone he would disappear saying he had something else to do. This was starting to bother you a lot but with the meetings you didn't have the time or the moment.

-Y/N aren't paying attention to the lessons…. - Ratchet said as he tapped me on his digit.

-Sorry, Ratchet, I just had something else on my mind.

-You should be focused on where you are right now. Although I guess it's about Optimus right?

You were surprised to see that the doc bot had guessed it. Seeing your expression, he laughed at you a little.

-It's obvious, everyone at the base is aware of you… The truth is, we haven't seen Optimus happy with someone in millennia.

You sighed as I grabbed the tools and went to work on one of Ironhide's weapons.

-I don't understand his behavior lately… He's been acting so strange, I'm worried.

Ratchet cleared his throat as he became serious while forcing you to look at him with his digits on your chin - This business you should stay out of, y/n. He'll get over it, just try not to be alone with him.

You didn't understand why Ratchet gave you that advice you tried, he looked at you again - Believe me y/n, it's best to keep your distance from Optimus for now.

There was something you didn't understand about what was going on, you asked the rest of the Autobots about it, almost everyone gave you fuzzy answers about what was happening to the autobot leader, until you got to Ironhide who gave you another warning that left you even more surprised.

-Squishy, there are some things you shouldn't meddle with no matter how curious you are. Although if you solve your doubts I wish you luck so you can get out of it - said Ironhide

You were thoughtful about everything you had heard from the autobots, you missed Optimus since the last few months you had felt an attachment to the autobot leader that went beyond friendship with him. You admitted that you had fallen in love with that big guy with blue optics, his kindness, his authority and obviously his height and figure.

Although you were still curious about what was going on, you decided to follow the advice of the autobots not to be alone with the autobot leader for the time being. You were succeeding but every time you entered a room his gaze followed you everywhere. You literally felt like cat and mouse, there would come a time when cat would end up getting what he wanted even though you didn't know what.

Until one day when you were almost ready to leave because you had overstayed your welcome at the base, you heard a noise in the hangars.

Lennox and the military team explained to you that the farthest hangars of the base were for storage or special equipment for both autobots and humans. Something in your instincts told you that you should not go there but you decided to go out of curiosity, you opened the big door carefully, that place was dark so you stepped carefully not to touch anything dangerous.

Your nerves were on edge and the adrenaline was the only thing that kept you moving, you were getting closer to the source of the noise, at the same time you were seeing that there was smoke around, making this put you more alert than before, it was clear that you were not alone in this place.

You came to see a dim light at the back of the warehouse, it was difficult to pass with so many boxes around but you passed as you could. Finally you arrived carefully at the origin where you were surprised to see who was there.

It was Optimus, with his exhaust pipes producing smoke while on a large part of his body there was a pink liquid around his body.

You were about to approach to see if he was okay but you stopped when you heard him…

He was moaning?

He was at the same time rubbing what seemed to be his spike, while there was even more transfluid.

You remembered certain lessons that gave you some embarrassment from Ratchet. You were trying to remember but seeing the leader like that made you tingle. You shook your head it was clear you were not supposed to be here. You were going to tread carefully until you heard him moaning your name….

You tried to leave carefully until you bumped into one of the crates making a lot of noise.

-Who's there?" growled the autobot leader.

You tried to hide quickly only to feel a servo around your body. You closed your eyes, you were trembling at the sight.

-Look at me...

You opened your eyes to see how it was caressing you with its digits. - How long have you been here? - asked the autobot leader.

That tone made you shiver, it didn't seem like Optimus was the one he was talking to.

- I haven't seen anything, I'll leave without bothering...

-No... I've been avoiding this situation for the past few weeks, feeling jealous of the rest that came close to you and what hurts me the most is that you started avoiding me. My y/n... This time, you are going to stay by my side.

You didn't understand what was happening, until two of his fingers were touching your thighs making you shudder.

- You know how much I wanted you, your kindness and curiosity. Your smile, your beauty... and your figure. Oh Primus, my spike was begging to enter your body. To make you mine... I know you want it too

You moaned again, as you felt the pressure on your thighs... you were starting to feel hot I knew you should stop but at the same time you wanted to know where I wanted to go.

His optics were watching you seeing a smile on your face.

-Well I see that you agree....

Then you felt his glossa lick your neck and then kiss you while continuing the pressure on your thighs. Right now you were reacting to several streams of pleasure that you never thought was possible.

His digits removed your pants while he kept kissing you and you felt his glossa tasting your taste.

You moaned as you felt a digit around your entrance.

-I'm just preparing your body for the best part... let yourself go, my little one," he whispered in your ear as you felt his digit touching your insides moving up and down making you moan in different ways for the leader's pleasure while he whispered how much he wanted you, he loved you madly but at the same time he didn't want to scare you away.

You moaned again as you looked up at him.

- Then you too... - you said between moans as he digit around your walls.

-Yes... I love you and I need you...

You climaxed as he pulled out his digit and licked it. He smiled at you as you caught your breath. You thought you were going to rest but you saw he was bringing his spike closer.

-We're not done yet... I want to feel you more... Mine all mine

You were going to protest but you felt his spike enter inside of you and saw a big bulge through your body. He started to move slowly.

-You are so tight

As you gasped as you tried to take it, it overcame the digit. Once he adjusted to your body he began to move faster and faster and you both gasped at the same pace. He was about to climax, you fell in as he could.

-Wait I can't... ah! It's going to be too much.

-Ah! -Easy... i can't out! Ah! Oh Primus! - gasped Optimus as well.

You both climaxed as you felt your body fill with the transfluid.

Your belly completely swollen as he carefully removed his spike while some transfluid fell out.

-That was... Intense - you said while touching your belly - What happened to you?

Optimus kissed your forehead as he placed you close to his chest.

- We have heat cycles something your species would say in heat, I couldn't take it anymore.... I should have done it sooner though, my little one.

You smiled and I snuggled close.

-Then I won't move away next time.

Optimus chuckled and held you close.

You had learned a lesson from the heat cycles, something that was not to be the last time.

[n1ght0f-nyx]

I love your work, could I request a fem reader with Simon / Ghost from Call of duty. If you're comfortable with it could it be smut such as accidental aphrodisiac maybe from a mission. Love confession and reader helping him through it.

note- i am no scientist i dont think there is any gases with aphrodisiac affects do not come at me i am but a humble whore

simon ghost riley x fem!reader smut

warnings/tags- smut, semi non-con? aphrodisiac, simon loves you but tries to hide it, even after you two fuck, kinda ends with angst, handjob and semi dry humping, ghost is kinda submissive under the drug effects, no actual pnv, yall fuck in soaps bed i am so sorry about how long this took ive been so busy <3 word count- 3002

The dark canopy of the woods stretched out above, dappled sunlight barely breaking through the dense trees as you and Ghost moved silently through the underbrush. You had worked with Simon countless times before, and even though the man was a legend in the field, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in his behavior around you. There was something about the way his eyes lingered just a bit too long, or how he always seemed to position himself closer than necessary during missions. But you never pressed him about it—especially not when you were on a mission. Professionalism was key.

At least, it was supposed to be. As you crept closer to your target, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something wasn’t right. You glanced over at Ghost, his skeletal mask somehow making him more imposing in the eerie quiet of the forest. He gave you a quick nod, acknowledging the silent tension that had begun to build.

"Stay sharp," he murmured through his comms, voice gruff and low.

Suddenly, a crack in the distance—a single twig snapping underfoot—followed by the unmistakable sound of hissing. Gas. You and Ghost were trained for this; the masks went on instantly, the world around you slightly distorted through the visor.

"Ambush!" Ghost barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a tree as gunfire erupted.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you returned fire, quickly scanning the area for the source of the gas. A canister lay nearby, still spewing its noxious fumes into the air. You couldn't tell what type it was, but your gut told you this was more than just a smoke screen.

"Gas masks on!" you yelled, even though you both had already secured them.

Ghost was already engaging the enemy, his shots precise and lethal. You took cover beside him, suppressing the approaching force. But the gas... something about it was different. You could feel the tension in the air, and though your mask kept you from inhaling most of it, a small tear in Ghost’s mask had let just enough of the gas slip through. You saw him falter for a split second, just before you took out the last enemy.

"Simon?" you asked, voice laced with concern as the gunfire died down.

"I'm fine," he growled, but his voice was shaky. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it.

"We need to fall back to base, now," you insisted, watching him carefully. Something was off, but there was no time to analyze it here. You grabbed his arm, tugging him along as you both made a hasty retreat.

The journey back to base was tense. Ghost was unusually quiet, and though he was always the stoic type, this felt different. He kept pace with you, but you could feel his eyes on you through his mask—watching, lingering.

Once you made it back to the extraction point, the helicopter ride to base was eerily silent. You tried to focus on the mission debriefing, but your thoughts kept drifting to Simon. You could tell something was wrong, but it wasn’t until you landed and headed to the barracks that he finally spoke.

"That gas...'s fuckin' me up" he muttered under his breath as you both made your way to the decontamination area.

You paused, turning to him. "What do you mean? are you alright?"

He lifted his mask just enough to reveal the lower part of his face, and you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was heavier than it should have been after a mission. It hit you then—whatever was in that gas, it had gotten to him.

He can't help but feel a powerful surge of attraction towards you, and the usual emotional barriers that usually hold him back now seem to dissolve. As drool trickles down the corner of his lips, he struggles to focus on the task at hand - getting medical attention - while his body seems to have a mind of its own, responding to the intense physiological effects of the chemical. His voice slurs ever so slightly, and his gaze falls on you, his eyes clouding over in a daze, his hand instinctively reaching out to pull you closer.

"I'm fine," he mumbled again, though this time his voice was softer, almost... vulnerable. "But you... look different."

You blinked. "Different? Simon, you're not making any sense."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck despite the cool air of the base. His mask had slipped down further, and for the first time, you saw a hint of the man beneath. His eyes, normally cold and calculating, were now filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Something deeper. Something raw.

"You have no idea, do you?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "How long I've waited... how much I've wanted to..."

You stood frozen in shock, his words hanging in the air like a confession. A part of you wanted to step away, to put some distance between yourselves, but another part of you was drawn to him, his words and actions fueled by the chemical in his system. His touch was intoxicating, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. Despite the danger that was lurking within him, your heart raced at the proximity, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His pupils dilated as he moved closer, his voice husky as he whispered, "I've wanted to touch you, to feel you under me. I've wanted to taste you for so long." His fingers brushed against your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through you as he continued, "I've wanted to make you moan, to drive you wild, to hear you scream out my name."

His words were a promise, a warning, and yet... it was also something more. It was as if, despite the chemical's effects, Simon was speaking from a deep, buried part of himself, a place where emotions ran deeper and his desires were raw and honest. And in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder, what did he really want from you? What did he truly desire beyond the surface level of lust and adrenaline?

Simon's hand slid down your arm, his touch sending sparks along your skin. You felt your defenses begin to crumble, his words and actions weaving a spell around you that was hard to resist. But even as your body responded to his touch, your mind was racing with questions - what had been in that gas? What did Simon truly want from you? And what would happen if he didn't get what he desired?

Despite the trepidation, a thrill coursed through you as Simon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, possessive gesture. His mouth tasted like the desert air, warm and dry, with a hint of salt from the sweat on his skin. The kiss was a slow burn, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't contain.

"Simon," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip the sides of his mask, pulling him closer.

His grip on you tightened, his hand cradling the back of your head as his lips pressed harder against yours. The kiss deepened, his tongue dancing against yours with a reckless abandon that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the faint hint of chemicals still lingering on his breath, a reminder of what had happened, but also the intoxicating allure that drove him to want you like this.As you pulled back from the kiss, his eyes remained closed, his face inches from yours, his breathing heavy and labored. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs like a drumbeat in the silence. For a fleeting moment, the chaos of the world outside receded, and all that remained was this intense, overwhelming feeling between you both.

you smile and look up at him, seeing the lust and want in his eyes, you could tell he was high both off the gas and off his feelings, The hand cradling the back of your head tightened its grip, pulling you closer. He leaned in once more, his mouth inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. The air was charged with tension, the atmosphere electric.

The mask's grip on you tightened, and you felt a jolt of excitement run through you as Simon's breath washed against your lips, the air between you both charged with electric tension. His eyes, though cloudy from the gas, locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a deep-seated craving. It was as if the chemical cocktail had set free a part of him that you hadn't seen before, a raw and primal desire that threatened to consume him whole.

With a gentle push of his face, Simon pressed his mask against yours, his lips tracing a delicate path against the edge of the visor, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body respond to his touch, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing moment. His hand, still cradling the back of your head, drew you in closer, his mouth moving in a slow, languid dance along the curves of your face.

"You," he whispered, his voice a low growl of longing, "have always been the one I want, even when I didn't know what it was." His words were a mixture of honesty and drunkenness, but it didn't matter. The sincerity in his voice, the urgency in his movements, was enough to have you drowning in the depths of his passion.

His chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an insatiable longing. Without saying a word, he reached for the zipper on your jacket, slowly sliding it down your torso. The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving you exposed to the chill night air.

A tremulous whisper escaped your lips as his hands began tracing patterns across your bare skin, mapping every curve and contour. Each brush of his fingertips ignited a trail of flames, spreading outward from the contact points. You arched toward him, craving more of those electrifying sensations.

Inside the barracks, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the creaking of old wooden bunk beds and the distant hum of the base's generators. The dim lighting cast long shadows, making it seem as though the very darkness itself was alive and watching.

Simon's pace was labored, his gait uneven as he stumbled through the shadows towards you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and stale air, but to you, it was a familiar comfort, like coming home. You could sense Simon's struggle to focus on anything except for you, his eyes darting around as if searching for something, anything else.

As he reached the edge of the room, he turned back, a look of desperation crossing his features. He lunged towards you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

The kiss was frantic, passionate, as though they were fighting against a tide that threatened to tear them apart. You could taste the fear, the panic, beneath the surface of his emotions. It sent a thrill of excitement through you, a primal urge that told you to give in to whatever this was, this explosive energy between you.

they collapsed onto the closest bed (which just happened to be soaps), entwined in a heap of limbs and tangled sheets. Their chests heaved in tandem, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they struggled to catch their breath.

As you leaned in closer, your hand brushed against his thigh, sending a shiver down his spine. His body responded instinctively, hardness pressing against his pants. He winced at the sudden ache, his breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come.

The leather of his belt creaked as you released the buckle, the sound echoing through the silence of the barracks. His pulse raced with excitement and nerves, his eyes never leaving yours as you slid the strap down, revealing the outline of his arousal beneath.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. There was a part of him that didn't want to know, a part that wanted to remain innocent and untouched. But another part, the part that had been screaming for release all evening, urged him to let go and surrender to the sensations you were about to awaken.

Your fingers danced across the fabric of his underwear, teasing and probing the sensitive skin beneath. He closed his eyes, feeling a rush of warmth flood through his body as his senses were awakened. His hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more stimulation.

As you guided him out of his clothes, he opened his eyes to watch you, mesmerized by the sight of your hands moving deftly over his naked form. His erection throbbed with expectation, begging for relief from the pent-up tension.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting things escalate this far. But he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, because the prospect of losing control, of giving in to the primal urges raging within him, was too enticing to resist.

With a final tug, you freed him completely, exposing his throbbing cock to the cool air of the barracks. He gasped softly, his eyes widening in awe as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him gently, coaxing forth a stream of precum that slicked his length.

He bucked his hips, urging you on, wanting more, needing more. His breath hitched in his throat as he realized the extent of his submission, the depths to which he was willing to sink to satisfy his cravings.

His eyes glazed over, his breathing quickening as you pumped your fist up and down his shaft at an alarming rate. The skin around his eyes began to tighten, his pupils dilating until they seemed to suck in every ounce of light.

His hips thrust up to meet your hand, a silent cry building in his throat. The pressure began to build in his groin, threatening to overflow as you relentlessly worked his erection.

His hands clenched and unclenched, the muscles in his arms taut with tension as you brought him to the brink of orgasm. The room spun around him, the sounds of the barracks fading into a distant murmur as everything focused on the intense pleasure coursing through his body.

His vision blurred, his world narrowing to a single, burning point. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except feel the impending climax.

Then, in a flash of heat and release, it came. He arched his back, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as he spilled forth, the pleasure ripping through him like a wildfire. you climb over to straddle his lap, grinding your clothed cunt over his cock

His eyes snapped shut, his hands rising to massage your tits as you started to ride him. The fabric between your flesh and his dick created a maddening friction, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

His cock jerked beneath you, straining against the fabric to get closer, to delve deeper into the heat of your center. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the wetness of your desire, the urgency with which you sought to sate your own needs.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you close as you ground against him, your movements building in intensity and speed. The pressure mounted, his climax imminent.

He grasped his balls, squeezing them gently as he felt the rush of pleasure building to a head. The room around you faded to nothingness, leaving only the two of you, lost in the vortex of your combined desires.

With a hoarse cry, his orgasm shattered through him, the release so intense it bordered on agony. You rode out the wave of ecstasy, your own pleasure reaching a fever pitch as you climaxed in tandem with him.

The aftermath was a haze of exhaustion, your bodies spent, your breathing ragged. He lay there, his cock still buried between your thighs, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes drifted open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you glimpsed a glimpse of the real person beneath the mask, the vulnerability and intimacy that existed between you both.

It was a fleeting moment, gone as soon as reality set in. He withdrew from you, rolling onto his back, panting heavily. The silence that followed was palpable, the tension between you thicker than the air.

You sat up, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to process the events that had transpired. The gas, the adrenaline, the sheer intensity of the moment—it all swirled together in a confusing mess.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling with each ragged breath. You wondered if he'd say anything, if he'd acknowledge the depth of his emotions, but instead, he simply lay there, lost in thought.

The silence grew longer, stretching out like a thin thread connecting you both. Finally, he stirred, pushing himself upright, his eyes fixed on you with a renewed intensity.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the events that had unfolded. "Yeah, I'm good."

He looked at you, studying your face, searching for something. After a moment, he nodded, seeming to accept whatever answer he found.

Without another word, he climbed off the bed, dressing hastily, his movements economical and efficient. Once clothed, he turned back to you, his eyes serious.

"thanks for that" he said, his voice devoid of inflection, trying to disguise his love for just a drugged favour. "Don't wait up."

With that, he walked out of the barracks, leaving you alone in the darkness, wondering what exactly had just occurred.

[prettygiri222]

Summary: Part 2 to succubus but can be read as a stand alone

ARMIN, Eren, Zeke, Jean, Onyankopon, Geto, Choso, Megumi, Gojo, Inumaki anyone you want really SMUT

“mmm right there” you mewled out pulling your classmate closer. you had him in a vice grip, your arms were wrapped around his neck and you were digging your heels into his back urging him deeper inside. you don't remember the last time you came so much.

at first, he had you in standing doggy locking your arms behind your back. his thrusts were so angry and your sly little comments about having had better didn’t help your case. so he opted to have your head shoved into your silk sheets to silence you. it was as if he was fucking his resentment towards your obliviousness to his feelings before into your womb.

your sharp tongue was reduced to muffled moans and whines with your saliva darkening your sheets. when he had you all nice and pilant for him drunk off your countless orgasms that left your cunt sopping he pinned you against the wall. you were held up with nothing but his pure strength, the veins in his arms bulging. your delicious mewls and whines echoed out into the room followed by his low grunts and squelching sounds as you sucked him in.

you don't know when you got to the bed but the cold wall you felt on your back was replaced with a cool welcoming from your sheets. you were on your back while he plunged his dick into you. his mushroom tip prodded into your spongy spots when you rolled your hips to meet his.

you were slowly becoming lucid this time as he was taking his time with you. his pace was slower compared to before but each stroke went in deep and left you twitching. feeling your orgasm steadily approaching you reached down to play with your clit to give yourself a little push.

“don't do that. I got you,” he said as he slapped your hand away and reached in between your sweating bodies to stimulate your little bud. you let out a little gasp at the feeling of his calloused fingers compared to your soft ones. “oh gosh”

“shit” he felt you tightening around him, your dripping cunt was oozing out a clear paste that was pooling around the base of his dick. after riding you through your orgasm he pulled out and gave his shaft a tight squeeze. he didn’t want to cum yet.

you were an erotic fantasy come true. it truly was a miracle he hadn’t cum again after he pulled you back to bed. how you tried to kick him out after a mere two orgasms. he wanted to show you he was different from your previous partners. that he was all you and your ravenous pussy needed to be kept full. if he didn’t break you first, you were going to be the death of him.

his goal was to hold out on you as long as he could. as a succubus no matter how much you orgasmed yourself you wouldn't truly be satiated until you absorbed the sexual essence of your partner. but the task was proving to be difficult with the way your pussy was squeezing around him attempting to milk him dry.

“come back, you haven't come yet” you rolled your hips chasing after him whining at the loss of his warmth. your legs were still locked around hips keeping him in place. 

“i’m not going to,” he said bluntly. you pulled back from his shoulder looking up at his seemingly uninterested face with your wide doe eyes. this was unheard of, you, a succubus not making a man come? it was a direct attack on your pride.

“what? what are you talking about?” you attempted to plead with him. batting your long eyelashes at him with tears welling up in your eyes on cue. you reached in between your legs to grab at his dick that was still covered in your wetness. “you know you want to, you're practically about to burst.”

“okok at least let me do it inside.” he let out a hiss at the feeling of your soft manicured hands stroking him. you let out a pleased giggle as you fell onto your back, bouncing a bit. you proudly held up your legs presenting your glistening core.

“fuck your so hot” something about your hypersexuality and your eagerness to please was a humongous turn-on for him. but he willed himself to stay strong. he almost had you where he wanted you.

before he could even make a move you were already putting him inside you. you guided his raging hard dick into your opened hole and pulled him in with your legs. rubbing on the dark symbol on your womb you whined “cmon, cum for me daddy”

you could feel him trying to hold himself back and you wondered why? his thrusts were shallow and his pace was slow, it was enough to pleasure the both of you but not enough to send him over the edge. “faster!” you begged.

“like this?” he questioned, he grabbed at the side of your hips to use as leverage to speed up the pace of his thrusts. he was now pistoning in and out of your soaking cunt. you could feel him slowly start to pulsate inside you meaning he was close.

“yes! yes! yes!” you called out like a mindless zombie urging him to finish faster. you purposely tightened around him eliciting high-pitched moans from him. he was such a cutie, biting his lip to try and keep himself from letting out his moans. it was now or never he thought to himself.

“i-if you say -uhhh your squeezing me say that i'm the only one you'll fuck from now on -fuck i'll come in you.” he struggled to let out. his whimpers and whines making him seem utterly pathetic while he tried to make a deal with you. your mouth fell open as you let out a particularly loud moan as he angled himself to hit your g-spot.

“hell no, i need to feed off of men to survive,” you immediately opposed his idea. it was unheard of, a succubus in a relationship? sure you had guys you would fuck with more than once but fucking one man only would be impossible. your insatisfiable needs could kill him but something deep inside you knew if anyone could handle it it would be him.

“i’m telling you i’ll be all you need” he was pleading with you. tears were welling up in his eyes at the intense pleasure he was feeling. he wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore, his balls were swollen as they clapped against your ass. his hands were shaking as he struggled to hold himself up above you. 

“no” you said but your heart twinged at his plan. although it physically hurt to pull out he had no choice. he had to get you to agree. he slowly pulled out of your sopping pussy that was leaking after he pulled out. “well…” 

“wait!” you bit your lips mulling over it in your head. it wouldn’t hurt to try you reasoned to yourself. you enjoyed this guy’s determination to keep you satisfied and not only chase after his pleasure like all the others. you were flustered. you’ve never had a partner beg you to be monogamous before, it left you feeling a kind of way. for once it wasn’t the growing sensation of your orgasm in your lower stomach but a fluttering feeling akin to butterflies. “only you,” you whispered slowly making eye contact with him.

his eyes opened in surprise. he thought he would’ve had to do more to get you to agree. although it wasn’t the exact wording he wanted he knew you would keep your promise. so he was now able to give you what you wanted. he was able to insert himself in one thrust due to all your previous orgasms leaving you open for the taking. his thrusts grew sloppy as he blindly chased after his own orgasm. it didn’t take long before his dick started to pulsate fast, signalling that he was close.

“cum for me” you reached up to grab his cheek. your sweetened voice was all he needed before his orgasm washed over him leaving his body shaking and letting out the loudest whine. he didn’t have the power to ride it out so you had to take it upon yourself to roll your hips and pull all of it out of him. your symbol glowed the brightest pink it’s had in a long time, leaving you feeling content.

his dick twitched inside your warm heat as he dropped in between your breasts. it didn’t take long until his heaving chest found a steady rhythm an indication that he passed out. you ran your fingers through his hair recalling the interesting night you just had. who would’ve thought the guy you never even glanced at would have given you a night like this? you smiled like a middle school girl with a crush.

“i’m going to keep you for a while. i really like you.”

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒 ✮ R. LE NORMAND

summary. after months of finding you cute robin decides to do something about it.

warnings. zubimendi!reader, rough sex, cream pie. 18+

gabri speaks! what can i say i’m a sucker for the teammate’s younger sister trope. based off ride or die pt. 2 by sevdaliza

YOUR THROAT BURNED as you took a sip of the tequila nico was passing around. you had just graduated uni and considering you spent all your time studying the taste of alcohol was still relatively new to you. in fact the whole environment around you – strangers making out, drinking, and smoking– was all strange to you. you didn’t mind but considering your brother was the only person you knew, you were lost.

robin studies you from across the room noticing how out of place you felt. he’d met you before in donostia having talked to you once or twice. he’d always seen you as martin’s younger innocent sister. he debates whether or not he should approach you and start a conversation. you start toying with your necklace and as you look around all doe eyed he decides to break the barrier.

the conversation starts out friendly, enjoyable. the two of you bonding over your brother’s messy habits, you don’t notice the way robin steals glances at your cleavage. eventually the tension piles up as he his hand accidentally touches yours, multiple times. you find yourself toying with your bracelets as he gets closer and the conversation topics change. you’re not sure when your interaction with him takes a different turn but soon enough you find yourself in a random room in the giant apartment the guys rented.

he brings you down slowly and gently until you’re sitting perfectly on his lap, your dressing riding up your legs a bit. the mirror across the room allowing you a perfect view of yourself and him. he trails his hands down your body, kissing your neck in the process, stopping when they land on your thighs. just a few months ago he was at your house eating dinner with your parents and now here he was teasing you.

“tell me to stop and i will.” he whispers until your ear.

you think about it for a second asking yourself if it was really worth it to ruin your brother’s friendship for a one night stand. it’s been months since you felt the touch of someone else and for some reason robin turned you on. your back is against his chest but you can feel his slow breathing. you decide to be selfish for once.

“don’t stop.” you whisper.

his hand finds it’s way into your hair pushing your head towards him. his lips mold into yours as he pulls you in for a kiss. as you whine at the contact his lips move perfectly against yours. you’d never been kissed so sensually before in your life and you feel yourself growing hotter as the two of you make out in the poorly lit room. as the kiss grows deeper — your eyes fully closed as he explores your mouth — his hand gets closer to your clothed core. your panties are soaked by the time he touches you and you can’t help but jerk at the sudden contact.

“izorratu.” you moan as he dips his fingers inside your panties. (fuck.)

he steals a quick glance at you realizing the usage of your native language. all those months of fawning over you had finally paid off. his fingers spread your slick around trying to prep you for him. you arch your back against him as his fingers get dangerously close to your center, where you need him the most. his touch is intense and ardent, you can barely concentrate as he brings one finger inside of you. the intrusion takes you by surprise. you gasp as he fills you fully with his finger.

“so tight.” he groans against you.

“fuck, robin move.” you urge him. “please.”

he brings his finger out fully before plunging it deep inside you again causing your hips to thrust into his hand. you look pathetic in the mirror as you try to fuck yourself against his hand. the view of his finger inside you being too much. you’re not surprised you can feel your orgasm build up quickly, after all you hadn’t slept with someone in months. your thrusts grow erratic as he curls his finger into you allowing for him to hit your g-spot multiple times. your whines grow louder as you feel your climax approaching.

“more. s’close. robin.” you can hardly speak.

he manages to understand you behind your incoherent words. he drags another finger towards your aching core and inserts it as well. the feeling of him inside your walls is too much. you squeeze him hard before coming undone on his fingers. your movements coming to a halt as he gives you your first orgasm of the night. his fingers slowly leave you empty and you watch tiredly as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean. the view being a sight for sore eyes.

then he kisses you like a starved man. you can taste yourself on his lips and your body molds into his once again. you’re finally able to feel him under you and you can’t help but get excited at the idea of him being inside of you, fucking you dumb. you grind against him wanting to get a reaction out of him.

“tell me you want it.” he grabs your jaw forcing you to face him.

“please robin i need you, inside me.” you whine at the growing bulge under you.

he zips down his pants freeing himself and you’re able to feel all of him under you. curiosity gets the better of you and you grind against him wanting to feel how big he was. his hands instantly go to your hips stopping you from moving anymore.

“impatient.” tsk. “if you keep moving i won’t fuck you.”

you stay still after that wanting to feel full once again. it’d been months since you fucked anyone and didn’t want to pass on the opportunity of being fucked by robin. he moves you towards him more so he’s able to bring his cock towards your entrance. he drags it through your folds spreading your slick making you incredibly wet in the process. your nails dig into his thighs as he brings the tip to your aching hole. he hisses as his tip enters you and you can’t help but jerk at the feeling of finally having him inside you. he’s gentle and eventually he fills you up to the hilt.

he grabs your jaw pulling you into another passionate kiss and he’s able to taste your dior lipgloss. the smell of chocolate filling the air as the two of you sloppily make out.

“ready?” he pants.

“mhm.” you nod up at him.

at that he exits you fully before thrusting back into you at a slow pace. you lean into his chest fully as your walls squeeze around him being intoxicated by his movements. the room is filled with the noise of skin against skin as he repeatedly fills you up completely. you find yourself bouncing on his dick as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching. he spreads your legs more allowing him to fuck you even deeper than before.

“s’close.” you whine feeling the familiar knot in your stomach approach.

he brings his fingers back to your folds circling your clit as you take him. you only last a couple of more minutes before you’re coming on his dick. he lasts a couple of more minutes until the feeling of your right cunt is too much for him. you feel him fill you up with his cum as he reaches his own climax. the two of you struggle to catch your breathes as you lay there. you’re unable to move feeling too sensitive everywhere.

“fuck, you’re so hot.” he pulls you in for one final kiss.

robin realises then and there that he’s fucked. he was completely and utterly fucked. he may have been pussy whipped but from that moment he was drawn to you. he was going to have you even if it meant fighting your brother.

[miniwheat77]

Cologne. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, reader pining after Price, brief mentions of masturbation(f), age gap, unprotected sex, (sorry if I missed any.)

(forgive me this isn't edited.)

He drove you crazy. His sweet smile. His huge hands. Cargo pants that squeezed his thighs just right. The fact that he wore cologne even though it wasn’t always allowed in the military, not to mention whatever fucking Cologne it was smelled amazing.

You ended up on the task force by chance. You were only in your 20's, but you tested really well. Laswell and John happened to be on the base you were on because of a medical emergency of one of the extra members on the task force. He was injured badly enough to the point he’d be unable to aid in anymore missions. They were both talking when they came across you sparring with a couple of other soldiers, seeing how quick you were on your feet, deciding to watch you when it came to shooting and stealth too.

For how young you were, you were a good soldier. It was John who made the first move. He found your Commander and asked to recruit you.

He didn’t mind, he knew it would be a great opportunity for you. Since you were a good soldier he knew you would do great. John and Laswell offered you the position and you didn’t hesitate to accept it. The first time John approached you, he introduced himself as Captain Price and shook your hand. His grip made you weak in the knees. His hands were massive and his smile was fucking adorable. It was the ride back with him and Kate that changed everything for you. His toned stomach showed through his shirt as he drove, hands on the steering wheel. He talked through gritted teeth at the mention of the wounded soldier who would be let go from the task force. He cared about his people.

Needless to say it was uncomfortable ride back to the base. You shifted uncomfortably a lot. Heat pooling between your legs. An uncomfortable knot in your lower stomach. This was only the first of many restless days and nights you would experience on base.

When you arrived, everyone welcomed you with open arms. You settled in just fine, you even enjoyed it more than the last base you were on. It did feel a little odd that you were the youngest on base, but you didn’t mind the teasing. Captain Price took you under his wing immediately. Anytime you were down or acting different than usual, he was asking you how you were. If everything was okay, he treated you like you were his daughter and you hated it. You wanted to be closer to him, you wanted to be with him.

The sleepless nights, distracted shifts, the hurt feelings you always had. It was too much.

You were on laundry for a while. You were washing everything. Bedding, clothes. Everything.

Laundry was easy. Load them up, and wait. Your hands glided across a piece of fabric, the familiar deep gray shirt you’d seen him wearing. You swallowed hard, looking around before bringing it up to your nose. His cologne still fresh on it. The scent of it alone sends chills up your spine. You tuck it into a clean sheet and set it there for a moment. You felt dirty for taking his things, but the thought of it alone drives you crazy. Once you finish the laundry, you rush to your room. Once you’re inside, you lock the door behind you.

You can’t help it as you lay back, bringing it up to your nose, fingers dancing across your bare thigh. Moving lower to where you needed it. His scent throws you into another world, eyes rolling back.

When you finish, you have to return to doing laundry, like nothing happened. This becomes a normal thing. Taking his clothes.

The scent of him always pushes you over the edge.

You like to imagine his body weight on you, pinning you down as he ruts his hips into you, deep inside of you. Reaching places untouched by another. The chills that rise on your skin at the thought of it, shivers moving through you. You don’t know how much you can take before you burst. You feel like a freak, a pervert. Constantly worried that he’ll find out what you’re doing and be disgusted by your actions. You don’t want to feel like this, but can’t help it. He invades your thoughts like a plague, an illness. You’re obsessed and it’s sickening how easy he’s trapped your mind.

You’re completely spaced out, staring down at the sheet in your hands. You don’t hear anyone coming. Not until a hand is on your shoulder and you’re jumping. “Woah!” He mumbles. “You alright darling?”

“W-wha- yeah. Yeah I’m good.” You breathe. “I was talking to you but you weren’t replying. Is everything okay?” He asks. “Y-yeah. It’s fine. I was just.. spacing out. Didn’t sleep well.” John can see the small beads of sweat forming at your hairline. Something is stressing you out. “I can finish the laundry if you wanted to get some rest.” He tries to soothe you with a hand on your shoulder. Seeing the way you freeze up when he touches you. “I’m alright. I’m almost done anyways.” You smile nervously. “Okay. If you’re sure. I was just going to ask, have you seen my army green shirt? I thought I put it in the wash the other day but haven’t seen it.” He asks. You need to come up with something, and quick. “Umm. I think I did see it yeah. I might’ve mixed it up with someone else’s, I’ll keep an eye out for it.” You smile. The thought of you burying your face into the fabric, cumming hard around your fingers fills your mind. “Okay. Thank you Y/N.” He smiles. You nod your head with a small smile. When he’s gone, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

You quickly finish the laundry, heading toward your room.

You didn’t know it, but he knew.

You left your door cracked, in a hurry to get to that shirt of his that you loved so much. The cologne was starting to fade away from it and you knew that you needed to wash it and give it back soon. He happened to be passing by, thought he’d check on his new recruit. He sure as hell didn’t expect to see you, fingers knuckle deep in your pussy with his shirt up to your nose.

He figured it was a crush, thought it would go away with time. But every single day around the same time. Your door was closed and locked. He knew what you were doing behind that door. Especially when his clothes would disappear for a couple days before reappearing. He liked the game. He liked to see how nervous you got around him. He didn’t know why out of everyone on base you could’ve liked, you chose him. But he liked it. Some days, he wanted to confess to you that he knew what you were doing. Just to see those red blushing cheeks, that little stutter you do. He had a plan. He like your little game, so he'd play along.

“Hey, will you drop my clothes into my room for me? I’ve got a meeting here in a minute.” He peeks into the laundry room. “Yes sir.” You swallow hard. “Good girl.”

He wants to chuckle at the way your body goes rigid as he says those words, but doesn’t. He makes his way back to his room, closing his door and waiting.

When he hears your footsteps coming a while later, he waits behind his door. You come inside, he can tell you’re nervous. It’s your Captains room, of course you’re nervous. You place his clothes down on his bed and this is when he pushes the door closed with his foot. When it slams behind you, you whirl around. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted slightly. “Jesus.” You sigh. Placing your hand on your chest. “You scared me.” You laugh. Your heart thumps hard in your ribcage. He smiles, his arms are crossed. “See you’re finished with my gray shirt, which are you going to take next hm? The one I’ve got on?” He smiles. He can see the way your blood runs cold. Eyes wide. “I- what?”

He laughs, stepping closer, watching the way you step back away from him. “I know what you’re doing with my clothes darling.” You keep quiet, swallowing hard.

“I just don’t understand, why me huh?” He laughs. “Aren’t I old enough to be your dad?” Your cheeks are burning and your eyes are everywhere but on his. “I…” you start. But your lips form to a line. If you could crawl into a hole and die, that’d be best case scenario. He moves closer to you. His arms still crossed as he closes in on you. “Do you get off on that hm? That I’m so much older than you? There’s something about me that gets you going, it can’t just be cologne.” You’re so embarrassed and cornered, you want to run away and disappear off of the face of the earth. Your eyes flicker to the door beside him and he laughs. “You going to run from me? That won’t fix this." He laughs. Moving in closer. "If you run, I'll just catch you." He mumbles it quietly.

You swallow hard.

The backs of your knees are pushed up against the metal frame of the cot he’s sleeping on. A gasp leaving your lips when he pushes you back onto it. You sit up quickly, staring up at him. “Cmon, cat got your tongue? Say something.” He chuckles. You pause for a moment. “I- I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet and unsteady. He bites his lip slightly. “How about.. a thank you.” He smirks, making you look up at him in confusion. “What?”

“For letting you borrow my shirts. For all of those orgasms you got from me without me even touching you. Go on.” He nods, a smile on his face. “Thank me.”

You look up at him, the look in your eyes is pure sin. “T-thank you, Captain.” You blush. He moves right up to the edge of the cot, closing you in. “That’s my good girl.” He breathes. “Take your shirt off.” He nods. “W-what?” You look up at him. “Come on, take it off. That’s an order, darling.”

You look at his door nervously. “It’s locked. Pay attention.” He breathes. Lifting your chin up to look at him. The look in your eyes, it’s pure lust. It always is when you’re looking at him. It drives him crazy. You hesitate for a second. Grasping the hem of your shirt, nervously lifting it over your head. “Bra too.”

You sit up further, unclasping it and sliding it off. Setting it down. You take in a sharp breath when he pulls his shirt off. “Put it on.” He tosses it to you. You pick up the very comfortable fabric. Slipping it over your head. The smell of his cologne invades your senses. A whine leaving your lips. He laughs. “Don’t worry darling. I’ll give you what you need.” He breathes. He lowers himself down to one knee at the edge of the bed. Helping you remove your pants. Revealing you to him once he’s gotten them off. He sighs. “So fucking pretty.” He mumbles. Running his fingers up your slit, feeling you shiver under his touch. “How.. how did you find out?” You look down at him. His thumb circles over your clit.

“Passed by your room when you were meant to be in the laundry room. You left your door cracked, in such a hurry.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “Knuckle deep in this pretty pussy to the thought of me.” He shakes his head, leaning into you. Pressing a kiss to your clit, smiling when you shudder. He kisses it again, sliding his tongue over you. Your thighs shiver slightly, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you still, moving his other leg so that he’s on his knees at the edge of the bed. Gliding his tongue through your folds. “You have to be quiet for me. Use the shirt.” He smirks. You nod your head. Lifting the fabric up to your mouth to muffle yourself. He laps at your entrance, keeping a steady pace with his tongue. You focus on the ceiling of his room. He starts slow at first. Gentle, small glides of his tongue. Waiting for you to get used to him. He knows you don’t have much experience, if any. So you’re going to be really sensitive at first. He gives you a minute to adjust to him. Eventually flattening his tongue and pushing down hard, flicking his tongue faster. You shudder, thighs clenching up tight. He holds you still though, you’re not going to squirm out of his grasp that easily.

He pulls away for a second, his facial hair glistening in your arousal. He can’t help but chuckle at the way you react to him. Flushed cheeks, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead. "Doing good for me darling. Can you take more?" He asks. You nod your head. He raises his right hand, gliding one of his fingers over your opening. He gathers up your arousal on it before pressing it into you. You tense up at the intrusion, gasping into the shirt. He lowers his face into you again, tonguing your clit. He adds another finger while he laps at your clit. You wrap a hand in his hair, tugging slightly. You whine out when he groans into you. He can feel you tightening around his fingers, you're getting close. Your thighs shake and he can't help but smile into you. Right when you're on that edge, right about to topple over the ledge into pure bliss, he pulls away. Drawing a mewl out of you. He can't help but laugh. Looking down at you as he stands up. "Relax, I'll give you more." He breathes. He starts kicking off his boots, reaching for his belt buckle. That's when it starts to hit you, he's going to fuck you.

He finally takes a second to drink you in. Your cheeks are flushed red and you look dazed. You look fucked out and he hasn't even fucked you yet. He frees himself from his cargo pants and you swallow hard. He's well endowed.

He moves you with ease, like you're a feather. Turning you so that he has space to move between your legs. He runs his hand back through his hair and you clamp your eyes closed.

He looks confused. "You alright darling?" He asks. "Yes. Just... overwhelmed." You breathe. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks.

"No, please." Your pleas have him chuckling to himself. His deep laugh sends chills down your spine. Like he's making fun of you for being so desperate. "Good girl." He raises your thighs up higher on his hips and lines himself up with your entrance, dipping the head of his cock into you. Seeing the way your eyes widen. Letting your head rest back into his pillow. His entire room smells like him. His sheets, his pillow. Him.

You can't help it as you wrap your legs around him, forcing his pelvis into you. Until he's pressed right up against you. "Fuck-" He gasps. The sudden feeling of you wrapped around him has him gasping out.

"Eager little thing aren't you?" He smiles. Running his thumb along your bottom lip. He rocks his hips into you and all at once it hits you. All of those day dreams you'd had of the way he'd feel, didn't even come close to as good as this felt. His touch lit fires on your skin. Your walls clenched around him, feeling every inch of him, every vein.

He picks up his pace, sliding deeper. You gasp out, clutching onto him. He shakes slightly, the way you're gripping him is almost too much to hold himself together. He grits his teeth, holding onto your hips tight as he rocks his hips into you. He forces you down into the bed with each hard thrust he takes, watching fall further apart beneath him. "Fuck... So good. You feel so fucking goad baby." He pants. He lowers one of his hands from your hip, resting it onto your swollen nub. Feeling your hips cower away from his touch. "Sensitive are we?" He chuckles. You whine out again and he laughs. "Quiet sweetheart. We don't need anyone finding out about this do we?" You shake your head after he says it. Not really caring about it. You didn't care if the entire task force heard you at this moment. You were too dazed to care.

He lowers himself into, resting more of his body weight onto you. Placing that pressure onto your body that you had daydreamed about so frequently when you had his shirts. Before you can stop it, you have tears gathering in your eyes, unable to stop them as they stream down your cheeks. "I'm- I-" You whine out. "S'alright. Cum for me. Show me what you got pretty girl." He smirks. He circles your clit with his finger still, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You shake when you finally reach your peak, walls throbbing around him as you cum. He clamps a hand over your mouth, smirking when they muffle the moans you were letting out. You could get him into so much trouble. "Just a bit more sweetheart. Gonna fill this pretty pussy. S'what you've been dreaming about right?"

Your hands grip the sheets as he overstimulates you. His pants get more desperate and labored as he approaches his own orgasm. He grits his teeth, he's so deep inside of you, you've never felt so full. He curses when he reaches his high. Lowering his head to rest against your chest. Panting hard as he pauses his thrusts. "Bloody hell." He gasps. Feeling your chest rise and fall with every breath you take.

It's silent for a minute, and than he's climbing off of you. You sit up, sliding to the edge of his cot as you redress yourself. Reaching to take his shirt off. "Stop." His stern voice has you freezing up. "I didn't say to take it off did I?" He laughs. Once he's redressed, he sits next to you on the bed. "Need something to tide you over for when I'm gone right?" He laughs. Raising up the bottle of cologne he has and spraying your chest with it, seeing you blush. "Although, you can always just come to me when you need something. Don't have to steal my shirts anymore, bad girl." He bites his lower lip.

You roll your eyes, embarrassed. He grips your chin, turning you to kiss him.

[byunpum]

Little Gifts

Pairing: Tsu'tey x human reader

Tags: fluff, Tsutey being a little grumpy, crushes, a little angst.

Warning: None, we need more tsu'tey works.

AVATAR MASTERLIST Part 1 | Part 2

Here you are, holding out your arms with a slice of vanilla cake in your hands. You had that goofy smile that he hated so much, because it made him feel feelings he shouldn't have for you. He looked you over from head to toe, he could see you had a white spot on your face, your hair was a little messy. But you looked so happy to find him.

"You are dirty and disheveled" says Tsutey, his face is serious. He didn't know how he had gotten so close to you, or how you had gotten so close to him. After the great battle, he was badly wounded, but he knew that all his pain was worth it, most of the people in the sky were returned to their home planet. He was surprised when he found out that many humans who supported Pandora decided to stay on the planet. He knew this had to do with the new clan leader, toruk makto jake sully. But he was still grateful to be alive. And that's when he met you, you had become friends with mo'at very quickly. The woman had seen beyond your appearance, and saw the plans eywa had for you.

So she allowed you to help her with the injured. You were not very trusted by the navi, but you managed to get them to accept your help. Tsutey was lying down, badly wounded. But he had the pride of a warrior, so he had to be strong. You came up to him, with a smile from side to side. He didn't want to talk to you much, but he let you help him. And before you left, you gave him a piece of candy.

"Here" you offer him a candy. Tsutey stayed frozen, maybe you were trying to poison him or something. "Look" you open the candy and put it in your mouth and start eating it. As you pull another one out of your jacket pocket. "Here…to sweeten your life" you says as you take his hand and hand him the candy. He stands there, hand extended and looking at the candy. At night while no one was looking, he was tempted to try that rare food, and to his bad luck…he liked it.

From that moment on, you delivered small desserts to him from time to time. The humans had a small base near the village. So I used to meet you often, you used to go for a walk in the evenings, You liked to watch the pandora's wildlife, pet the passive animals and talk to the navi children. You would go and talk to mo'at about the herbs and medicines she used. Then you would find him and hand him a treat. He already knew your whole routine, he had studied you for many weeks. You were not troublesome, and you were a very quiet woman. He used to see you reading books in some corner, or looking for rocks for your 'rock friends collection'. He started to sit next to you and have long talks with you, he liked to talk to you. You had interesting topics, and you were fun.

"And that rock friends collection what is it?" he knew humans were weird, but this was too much. "Ahhhh I like to collect strange rocks, different colors and shapes. And then give them names. I don't know, it relaxes me" you say with a smile. He made a mental note, that if he found a rock he thought was strange he would give it to you.

For example, today in particular he was in a practice with some warriors, all of them were riding or feeding with their direhorse. He was distracted talking to one of his friends, until he signaled him to look back. As he turned around he saw you, you were approaching him, and you had something in your hands. He could see how his friends were approaching to watch the scene. No one knew that he had been building a friendship with a sky demon. And this was making him uncomfortable. You get close enough and raise your hands…offering him something that looked sticky, shiny and didn't smell bad. "Look…I made this for you" he could see how happy and excited you were to give him this gift.

"You are dirty and disheveled" says Tsutey, seeing how you were still smiling. "Well I've been preparing this cake all morning," you laugh a little nervously. Tsutey started to hear the comments and laughter of his colleagues and couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You noticed how his tail lowered, and his ears twitched, and how his face showed a look of concern and annoyance. You lowered your hands slowly, oh no, you had made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I… I'd better go" you say as you walk away. Tsutey watches you walk away, as he laughs a little with his friends.

He felt bad for having refused your gift. But he didn't know how to react. It wasn't long before practice was over. Everyone was saying goodbye, Tsutey went ahead and went to that weird hut you humans had. He saw that the lights were on and that there were people inside. He approached slowly, it was the first time he was close. He didn't have much confidence, but he had to apologize to you.

One of the men saw the navi approaching and came out of the hut. "Excuse me…I don't want to disturb, but could I speak with Y/N" speaks Tsutey, he knew the language but didn't know how to sound formal, you had teach him a few things, but it was complicated. He watched as the man came in and called you by name. He was a bit far from the hut. He waited, until he saw you come out of it, he assumed you were upset and all. But he was surprised when he saw you, you had a smile on your face and ran to where he was.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him. "I come because of that…. I want to apologize to you for not accepting your gift" Tsutey says with a very erect posture. He saw how you smiled a little, but it was a smile of sadness. "You don't have to apologize…I know you told me not to talk to you when you were with company. So I'm the one who has to apologize" you speak, Tsutey can see how nervous you were, you were playing with your hands. "No, …. well yes, I know I said that. But I didn't mean to…" he didn't know what to say, he knew he told you that, because he didn't want the navi to know he was talking to a human. You two stood there in silence for a while. "Do you…do you want the present?" you look up to see his face, Tsutey agrees with his head and you go running to get the cake.

You get there as fast as you can and hand to him the cake, it was wrapped with a very pretty pink cloth, with strawberry designs. "That's a cake, it has flour, egg, sugar and other things. It is edible and sweet. I made it vanilla, so it wouldn't be weird for your taste " Tsutey watched as you explained everything to her, he could see how excited you were to have delivered your gift. Tsutey lifted the piece of cake and brought it up to his nose. Wow, this smelled wonderful. "Did you prepare it for me?" he asked. "Yes!!!" you laughed stupidly. "Thank you" Tsutey gives you a big smile.You had to admit, he had a charming smile. "Well… it's already that afternoon, try it and then tell me what you thought" you tell him as you say goodbye to him and walk towards the hut. He stood there for a while, until he decided to walk to his hut, when he got there he sat down and opened the cake wrapper and tasted it.

"This is delicious" he thought to himself, before he knew it, he had already eaten it all. He began to feel bad, you had prepared this for him, you were trying to feed him, you had been bringing him gifts for months… and he had rejected your offering. He didn't have to accept it if he wasn't interested, but he was very very interested. He had to find a way to reward you. If he didn't, he felt that eywa would not forgive him.

[solomonomenon]

Can you do each skz how they're in bed? <3

how are skz in bed?

⚠️ for entertainment purposes only *based on tarot

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

he’s like the ultimate romantic. he’s all about creating that perfect moment where everything just feels right—emotionally and physically. picture him setting the mood with soft lighting, maybe a cozy atmosphere, and wanting to give you that feeling of connection, satisfaction, and happiness. he’s not rushing it, he wants you to feel cared for, loved, and like you’re in this together. think slow, passionate kisses, wrapped up in each other’s arms, where it’s more than just sex—it’s bonding.

𝙡𝙚𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬

he is serious about his skills. he’s not just jumping into it, this guy knows what he’s doing. he’s the type who’ll take the time to figure out what turns you on, what makes you tick. he’ll remember that one spot on your neck or how you like to be touched and get better every time. it’s all about the little things like making sure you’re comfortable and giving you that satisfied feeling without ever rushing. he might even be the type to get a little creative and try out new things to keep it fresh. no half-assing here, just pure dedication.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣

he’s all about pushing boundaries and seeing where the adventure takes him. he’s probably got a bit of a wild side, always looking to try new things—whether it’s different positions, new locations, or just a more daring approach. his energy screams explorer, so in bed, he’s the type to take charge and bring you on an exciting ride. imagine him setting the pace and making sure you’re always craving more, constantly wanting to keep it exciting and fresh. one minute you’re in the moment, and the next, you’re both exploring something completely new. he’s not afraid of a little spontaneity.

𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣

he’s the passionate lover who’s all about making you feel like the only person in the world. he’s probably into the kind of sex that’s intense and romantic at the same time—imagine him showering you with compliments, deeply kissing you like he means it, and setting an emotional tone that makes the entire experience feel electric. he might want to take his time with you, going slow and making sure everything feels right. you’re not just physically there, he wants you to feel that deep, emotional connection. think candle-lit vibes, soft whispers, and him making sure he’s bringing you the ultimate pleasure, body and soul.

𝙝𝙖𝙣

he’s the type who might not say a lot, but you’ll feel everything. he probably doesn’t like to rush into things, he’ll be more focused on the quiet intensity between the two of you. his energy is subtle, but it’s magnetic, like he can sense exactly what you need without even asking. he’s not all about talking, he lets his touch, his eyes, and the chemistry between you speak louder. it’s deep, intuitive, and can feel almost otherworldly like you’re both on the same wavelength, lost in the moment. think of him guiding you into a sensual, almost hypnotic experience where everything feels intimate and natural.

𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭

he’s the type who can switch between playful, passionate, and tender without missing a beat. imagine him being spontaneous, one minute he’s teasing you with sweet kisses, the next he’s flipping you over, giving you that rougher energy. he knows how to keep things balanced and exciting, making sure you’re both getting what you need without it ever feeling too much. he’s flexible, adaptable, and knows how to keep things in sync between you two. expect him to keep you on your toes, always switching things up to keep it fresh and never boring.

𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣

he’s fiery in bed, and he knows it. he’s got that “I know what I want” energy and won’t shy away from showing you just how confident and passionate he can be. he’s probably not the quiet type and he’s more likely to take control, leading the way and making sure you’re both getting exactly what you want. everything he does is purposeful, intense, and you’ll feel that energy building the whole time. picture him teasing you, getting you to beg for more, and giving you that dominant-but-sexy vibe that makes you feel both excited and a little breathless.

𝙟𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣

this guy is a bit more reserved, especially at first. he’s probably not rushing into things, he wants to make sure he’s comfortable and emotionally secure before he fully lets go. he might hold back just a little, but once he feels safe, it’s a different story. he’s probably someone who wants to take care of his partner, making sure you feel stable and taken care of in the moment. expect a slower, more intimate experience, where he’s giving you just as much attention and care as he’s receiving. but don’t mistake the calmness for lack of passion, once he’s fully comfortable, he’s all in.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[peachysunrize]

"Aemond's Hall of Sins"

what do you think would be 7 sinful tho(ugh)ts Aemond would have/be into? can be either thinking of a street of silk!reader (whore), his betrothed, ābrazȳrys (wife), servant!reader or he could be imagining 7 kinks (or whatever turns him on...) all while flicking his wrist at his tip, stroking his cock in an o shape, squeezing at his base, thumbing at his slit...

i was inspired to do this ask solely based off of your blog desc 🤭

Heheheeeeeeeeeeee i loooove this

He’s not as scandalous as Aegon so the safe choice is to do those things with someone within the castle walls! So he’ll go with servant reader🤭

7 sins of Aemond Targaryen

1. Sinful thoughts about servant!reader in her clothes

Oh my man would imagine her cleaning his room while he’s stroking his cock slowly, matching her pace as she folds his clothes and arranges his books

2. Sinful fantasies about her lips

It’s not just that he wants to slip his cock past those luscious lips no not just that, but he wants to kiss them too and make sure it’s his name falling from them

3. Sinful size difference

Oh he would lose his miiiiiind over this!! Pretty little thing shorter than him, having to crane your neck to look at him which he always helps you with by a finger under your chin

4. Sinful mouth & god complex

He would corner your stuttering figure to a wall, trying to explain why you were touching yourself on his bed but he is just sweet talking to you saying how he enjoyed the sight and how important that made him feel and when he has you on his back while fulfilling your dreams, he is pouring high valyrian words into your ear but you don’t understand him, because you’ve never encountered with a vlayrian god like him

5. Sinful & lustful thoughts

He has been trying to shake the thought of getting you pregnant out of his head, but how can he? How can he when he remembers how pretty you looked all spread out and sweaty with your maid dress pulled down and tits out? How can he not think about giving you his royal seed until you have pretty Targaryen kids of your own? Hmm?

6. Sinful deadly jealousy

The Seven would have his head but he would kill if a commonly man ever tries to approach you. You are his, his to fuck, his servant, his pretty little whore, and he thinks about how he’ll fuck you blood-soaked after killing those men as he strokes his leaking cock at night to this idea

7. Sinful submission

Sometimes he needs to be held down and get fucked roughly, sometimes he succumbs to the temptation and allows you to ride him and hold the side of his neck while you grind your hips to his. And oh he loves every second of it — having you bouncing and drooling on top of him while he has his hands behind his head and he’s getting choked

[luvyeni]

i want it to be a smut about txt and there 6th member 💕💕 -🐸

—｛🎂｝FREE USE WITH 6TH MEMBER; W/ TUBATU

pairings. OT5!tubatu x 6thmember!reader

wc. 0.8k

synopsis. different scenarios with txt and the 6th member.

—｛🍰｝... SOOBIN ⋮ sucking him off in the backseat on a way home from schedule... !

the other members sitting in the front , not caring about what's going on in the back as you lower your mouth onto his cock , just asking the driver to turn the music up , to cover up soobins whines.

"fu..fuck your mouth feels so good." his head was tossed back again the head rest as you bobbed your head up and down , spitting on his cock. "t..take it all the way." he pushed your head down all the way , you gagged around his cock , throat tighen around him , making him buck up into your mouth. "fuck , fuck im gonna cum , fuck im gonna cum down your throat." he pushed your head down once more , his cum flooding your throat making you cough around him as you pulled him out of your mouth , swallowing his load.

"sh..shit , thank you."

—｛🍰｝... YEONJUN ⋮ fucking him after concert... !

both of you are high on adrenaline , before you could even reach the room , he's pulling you into the nearest room , pressing his hard on against your ass.

"f..fuck! y..yeonjun slow down." he bent you over the bathroom sink , pushing his cock into your cunt without warning. "we need to -shit- hurry up before they realize we're gone." he roughing fucked into you , his thighs smacking against yours , you were moaning so loud , you knew they heard you. "yeonjun fu..fuck so full." he grabbed your hair , pulling flushed against his chest, "look how messy you look , letting me use you like this, fuck im gonna cum." he let your hair go , your legs were shaking as he came deep inside you. "good girl , take my cum."

"im not done with you , just wait until we get back to the dorm."

—｛🍰｝... BEOMGYU ⋮ jerking him off during a live... !

you and beomgyu liked to tease each other , seeing who could turn each other on , slipping your hands into his pants during a live together.

"today we were so busy filming, weren't we beomgyu?" you bit back a smirk, as he struggled to answer the question , because your hand was currently in his pants stroking his cock , the table covering up what was going on. "y..yeah." he stuttered out. "they're asking why are you so silent?" your thumb circled around his tip. "don't you want to talk to them." you squeezed the base of his cock. "sh..shit." he said under his breath , as he came all over your hand , you could see the anger in his eyes , hidden behind the smile he was displaying. "＿ is so playful isn't she?" his hand crept up on your thigh , he leaned over.

"you wanted to play , now let's see if you can keep quite while i finger your pussy."

—｛🍰｝... TAEHYUN ⋮ fucking you in the practice room before practice... !

it's often that he'll pull you into the practice room and have you ride him before practice , pulling your pants us , just in time as the others arrive , not that they haven't caught you two before.

"fu..fuck, bouncing on my cock like a slut , what if someone walks in?" your walls clenched around him at the thought. "i know you being watched like a slut , i bet you wouldn't mind if i recorded you , cover your face , post it on twitter." he fucked up into you , his hand wrapping around your throat. "answer me slut." you moaned , nodding. "fu..fuck yes , tae please." he slapped your ass , his orgasm approaching. "im gonna cum inside you , i want to see you try and dance with my cum stuffed inside your pussy." he thrusted 1 time , 2 times 3 , cumming inside you.

"thats take my cum, if you keep it in all practice , i'll make you cum later."

—｛🍰｝... HEUNING KAI ⋮ fucking you on the dorm couch ... !

huening kai isn't as bold when he's using you like the others , but he will fuck you on the couch when no one is home.

"been waiting use your cunt all day." he slid into your cunt with ease. "fu..fuck kai." you moaned. "so warm , your pussy is so tight." he straightened his body , grabbing your hips , fucking roughly into you , you reached for the arm of the couch , to hold onto , but he grabbed your hands pinning them down. "little pussy must be so spent , letting everyone use you like this." he groaned. "you like being used a cumrag , letting us use you however you like -shit- your clenching around me so much." he groaned. "fuck, im gonna cum." he pulled out of your pussy , tugging at his cock until his cum spilled onto your stomach , you tried to close your legs but he smack the inside of your thigh making you yelp.

"keep your legs open, im gonna eat you out until the guys get back."

©️LUVYENI

[insipid-drivel]

Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?

This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.

Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.

As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.

Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.

When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.

Carrying vs. Pulling:

Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.

Warhorse Size Categories:

Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.

Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.

Light-Weight Horses:

A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.

Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.

Medium-Weight Horses:

Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.

Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.

Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.

Heavy-Weight Horses:

The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.

Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.

Ponies:

While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.

Europe-Specific Terminologies:

If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:

Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.

Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.

Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.

Coursers:

Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.

Rouncey:

A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.

It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.

[tkachuktkaching]

Matthew Tkachuk returns to Edmonton as Public Enemy No. 1

Tkachuk spent the first six seasons of this NHL career with the Calgary Flames, combating in the Battle of Alberta, the decades-spanning rivalry in which the Flames and the Edmonton Oilers would bludgeon each other to the delight of neighboring fan bases. It's a feud that stands next to any geographic rivalry in sports based on its championship prestige, Hall of Fame talent and unwavering vitriol.

Tkachuk remembers those rivalry games well.

"I guess I know them more than probably most guys by playing in Calgary," Tkachuk said. "But we just had the one playoff series against them that they won, and played a bunch in the regular season. There's a lot of different guys over there now."

Calgary traded Tkachuk to the Panthers two years ago. He has returned to Edmonton twice since.

"I know last year I was booed every time I touched the puck. This year there was nothing, so I have no idea this time," he said.

How close did Tkachuk come to becoming an Oiler? Four years ago, he told TSN Radio that they appeared ready to draft him before Dubois went to Columbus.

"During the draft, on the draft floor, it was kind of a weird moment where some people at the Edmonton table -- you could ask them, they would probably deny it -- but they're kind of staring me down and kind of giving me some smiles. The only people that saw it were me and my mom. So we're like, 'All right, we're going to Edmonton,'" he said. "Then Pierre-Luc Dubois went third overall, and the phone started to ring like crazy at the Edmonton table. They threw the jersey under the table and it looked like they stripped off a name and gave it to Puljujarvi with the next pick."

Tkachuk was drafted sixth overall by the Flames. The rest is (alternate) history.

TKACHUK SAID HE HAD "kind of like a Christmas Eve feeling" before the Stanley Cup Final, giddy with anticipation for trying to win the Cup after the Panthers lost in the championship round last season to the Vegas Golden Knights.

When asked about the Oilers, there was no trash talk, no bulletin board material.

"They're a great team. Finally got to watch some of their games against Dallas, since we were playing every other night. It was good to watch their games," he said. "They played really well and ultimately deserved to win the West. It should make for a great final."

After Florida went up 2-0 in the series with its Game 2 victory, Tkachuk was asked if the Oilers were rattled.

Again, he deferred.

"No, I don't think so. It's just sometimes the way it goes," he said, before leaving the media scrum.

The story of Matthew Tkachuk vs. the Edmonton Oilers is also a story of a young, brash superstar at the apex of his brashness who says he's a much different player today. Tkachuk speaks with pride about what he perceives to be the Panthers' maturity as a team and his own discipline on the ice, in contrast with how he'd played in the Battle of Alberta, for example.

"I'd say that used to be a part of my game. Now it's pretty nonexistent," he said. "I've kind of learned what works, and what works is playing as hard as I can for 30 to 45 seconds -- well, sometimes I take the long shift, so 30 seconds to a minute. There's no need to waste your time doing extra stuff."

Panthers coach Paul Maurice has cited the 26-year-old Tkachuk's maturity throughout the season, starting with how he approached this campaign after Florida's stunning run to the Stanley Cup Final last season.

Maurice said Tkachuk was part of the leadership group that got the Panthers locked in to their defensive game this season, which was a byproduct of missing Aaron Ekblad and Brandon Montour at the start of 2023-24 after surgeries. He said Tkachuk's attitude from the start of training camp help set the efficient, business-like tone of Florida's approach.

"Last year, I think we were just kind of riding the wave," Tkachuk said before the conference finals. "Going into this, we know what it's going to take to ultimately come out on top."

Tkachuk is tied with Aleksander Barkov with 19 points to lead all Panthers scorers. He hasn't had the soaring moments as regularly as he did last playoff run.

But Maurice is confident that Tkachuk is still capable of them.

"His game is better. He's more disciplined. He's matured with this group over two years. I think he's ... primed," the coach said. "I would never bet against him coming up with some heroics, but it's certainly not the only thing we have to expect now when we come to the rink from him."

Article taken from espn.com I Photos : Getty Images

[ophanum]

u say u write for charaters that dont get as much recognition, could you please write general and nsfw headcanons for adged up karma akabane? i think hed have so many piercings espescially a tongue piercing and an eyebrow one and he would be such a freak fs fs

Karma's multiple piercings serve as a significant part of his identity. He has a prominent tongue piercing, a stylish eyebrow piercing, and several ear piercings, including hoops and studs. Each piece of jewelry reflects his bold personality and love for self-expression. He often switches out his piercings based on his mood or outfit, enjoying the playful aspect of accessorizing.

Karma has cultivated a unique style that blends streetwear with punk influences. He favors fitted graphic tees with edgy designs, distressed denim, and oversized jackets. Layering is key to his look; he might throw on a long flannel shirt over a tank top or add a studded leather jacket for an extra edge. Accessories like chokers, layered chains, and chunky bracelets complete his outfits, showcasing his individuality.

His playful personality makes him a magnet for attention. Karma loves to joke around, often finding ways to lighten the mood, even in tense situations. He’s not above pulling pranks on friends or using his charm to deflect serious conversations. His charisma is infectious, and people are drawn to his energy, making him a natural leader among his peers.

After years of honing his skills, Karma has become a formidable fighter, known for his agility and speed. He approaches combat with a strategic mindset, often analyzing his opponents and using their strengths against them. His background in the school’s rigorous environment has sharpened his instincts, allowing him to adapt quickly in any situation. He also enjoys sharing his knowledge, teaching others self-defense in a playful yet effective manner.

Beneath his teasing exterior, Karma is fiercely loyal to his friends. He has a strong sense of justice and will not hesitate to step in when someone he cares about is in trouble. Whether it’s defending a friend from bullies or helping someone in need, he often finds himself in situations where he’s protecting those he loves. His friends appreciate this side of him, knowing they can rely on him when it counts.

Karma thrives on adventure, whether it’s exploring new places, trying out extreme sports, or engaging in thrilling activities. He has a strong sense of curiosity that drives him to seek out new experiences, and he often drags his friends along for the ride. This adventurous spirit makes him exciting to be around, as he always has something fun planned.

With his confidence and charm, Karma is an expert flirter. He enjoys teasing his crushes and has a knack for making people feel special. He’ll drop subtle compliments and playful jabs, often leading to light-hearted banter. His playful nature keeps interactions fun and exciting, making it hard for anyone to resist his allure.

Karma brings his adventurous nature into the bedroom, where he’s always eager to explore new kinks and fantasies. He enjoys discussing boundaries and preferences with his partner, ensuring that both of them feel comfortable while pushing limits together. His playful approach keeps things exciting, as he loves surprising his partner with new experiences.

With his tongue piercing, Karma knows how to use it to his advantage. He takes pride in his oral skills, knowing exactly how to drive his partner wild. The added sensation of the piercing only enhances the experience, making him more confident in his abilities to please. He enjoys experimenting with different techniques, always eager to learn what his partner enjoys most.

In the bedroom, Karma has a dominant streak, but he balances it with a keen awareness of his partner's needs. He thrives on being in control, enjoying the thrill of taking charge during intimate moments. However, he always checks in with his partner, ensuring they’re comfortable and enjoying themselves. His attentiveness makes the experience more fulfilling for both.

Karma loves to build anticipation, often teasing his partner before things heat up. He might drop suggestive comments during casual conversations or lightly brush against them in public, creating an electrifying tension. His playful nature allows him to turn even the most mundane moments into something charged with flirtation.

He appreciates aesthetics, including his partner’s body, and takes time to explore and admire every inch of them. Karma enjoys giving compliments and expressing his admiration, making his partner feel desired and cherished. He believes that taking the time to appreciate each other enhances intimacy and connection.

After intense sessions, Karma knows the importance of aftercare. He’ll be affectionate and attentive, ensuring his partner feels cherished and comfortable. Cuddling, gentle caresses, and sweet whispers are his go-to aftercare methods. He often asks how his partner feels and what they enjoyed most, wanting to deepen their connection.

Feeling adventurous, Karma sometimes suggests a little public play, whether it’s light teasing in crowded places or more daring encounters in secluded areas. He loves the thrill of being caught or the risk of being discovered, adding an exhilarating layer to intimacy. This spontaneity keeps things exciting, as he thrives on the adrenaline rush that comes with such escapades.

-

Karma Akabane leaned against the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead lights illuminating the myriad of piercings on his face. The eyebrow piercing glinted with mischief, and his tongue piercing added a playful flair to his smirk as he watched his partner, Ami, busy preparing dinner.

“Need any help in there?” he called out, his voice dripping with casual charm. The fitted graphic tee he wore clung to his toned frame, accentuating the way he carried himself—confident, yet effortlessly relaxed.

“Just slicing some veggies!” she replied, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. “You could set the table, though.”

“Setting the table? How boring!” he teased, winking. “I’m much more useful in the bedroom, you know.”

Ami laughed, shaking her head. “I’m sure you are, but dinner comes first. And don’t think I’m letting you distract me.”

“Challenge accepted.” Karma stepped closer, leaning his hands on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just remember, I’m the master of distractions.”

As he watched her work, he couldn’t help but admire the way she moved—graceful and focused. The warmth of the moment filled the room, but a familiar thrill of mischief coursed through him. He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear, his breath warm and playful. “I could think of a few ways to make dinner much more... exciting.”

Ami turned to face him, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. “Karma, not now. We can have fun later.”

“Why wait?” he pressed, stepping closer, his fingers brushing against her waist. “The night is young, and I’m feeling adventurous.”

Just then, the phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the tension. Karma sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me after this.”

“Deal,” she said, reaching for the phone. As she glanced at the screen, a playful smile danced on her lips. “It’s Yukari. She wants to know if we’re coming to the party tonight.”

“Party?” Karma’s interest piqued. “Count me in! You know I can’t resist a good gathering.”

With dinner quickly forgotten, they decided to get ready for the night. Karma slipped into a distressed denim jacket, the fabric torn in all the right places, enhancing his edgy look. He adorned his ears with hoops and studs, opting for a choker that accentuated his sharp features.

“Ready to steal the show?” he asked, checking himself out in the mirror.

“More like ready to keep you in check,” Ami quipped, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same.

The atmosphere at the party was electric, pulsating with music and laughter. Karma thrived in the chaos, his playful spirit lighting up the room. He slid through the crowd, a natural flirt with everyone, but his eyes were always drawn back to Ami.

“Having fun?” he shouted over the music as he approached her, his hands slipping into his pockets, the cool metal of his piercings catching the light.

“More than you know!” she replied, her voice bright. “You’re the one making everyone laugh.”

“Just doing my thing,” he winked, his confidence radiating. “You ready for a little adventure?”

Ami raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s find a quieter spot. I want to show you something.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Something I’ve been thinking about.”

Curiosity piqued, she followed him through the bustling party until they found a small balcony overlooking the city skyline, a quiet escape from the lively chaos below.

Karma leaned against the railing, gazing out at the twinkling lights, a moment of calm before the storm. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said, turning to face her, his playful demeanor softening into something more sincere.

“Yeah? What about us?” she asked, crossing her arms, a smile playing on her lips.

Karma took a step closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “About how much I enjoy having you in my life. And how much I want to explore... everything with you.”

Ami felt her heart race as he leaned in, his breath warm against her lips. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling in the air between them. “Karma...”

“Just trust me,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along her jawline. “Let go for a moment.”

In a swift motion, he closed the distance, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was electric—playful yet deep, a blend of teasing and raw passion that sent shivers down her spine. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them wrapped in a bubble of warmth and desire.

Karma deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer. He could feel the weight of the world lift off his shoulders, lost in the moment, the thrill of being with her igniting every nerve ending in his body.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I think I have an idea,” she replied, her cheeks flushed. “But we should probably head back before someone realizes we’re gone.”

“Who cares?” Karma shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “Let them wonder. I’m enjoying this too much to care.”

With a playful smirk, he leaned in again, capturing her lips for another quick kiss before pulling away and guiding her back inside. The party awaited them, but for Karma, the night had already exceeded his expectations.

As they re-entered the vibrant chaos, he felt a rush of exhilaration. They were tangled in a web of newfound intimacy and shared laughter, ready to face whatever the night had in store—together.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Pretend For A While

Requested Here!

Pairing: TO!Jim Street x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You fall for Street on your first day as a rookie, but it takes a hostage situation and a guilty conscience for Street to realize he feels the same.

Warnings: fluff, angst, r is abducted and stabbed, mentions of hospitals and surgery, more fluff

Word Count: 4.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

During your time in the police academy, you heard dozens of horror stories. The premise of each was training officers. Your TO can make or break your career; you have no say in who you are assigned to or how they treat you. So, as you walk into the station on your first day after graduating from the academy, you’re excited and nervous all at once. You did well in the academy, but that doesn’t mean anything now. You’re a boot, so you’re back at the bottom, and every move you make will be watched and judged.

“Now,” the watch commander announces. “Rookies, it’s time to be assigned to your training officer. Your TO is the most important person to you during this period of your training. Listen, apply, and learn.”

You nod and listen as your fellow rookies are told who will decide their fate in the coming weeks. When the watch commander says your name, you sit up straighter and nod in acknowledgement.

“Your TO is Officer Jim Street,” he says before continuing his list.

You fight the urge to turn in your seat and find Officer Street. Every opinion you’ve heard recently was different: don’t be too eager, be eager, stay quiet, express your opinion, and ask questions. It has been a whirlwind, but your TO can strengthen it into a hurricane in a moment.

“You’re dismissed,” the watch commander concludes. “Go serve and protect. Good luck.”

Before you stand, you take a deep breath. The moment you turn, Officer Street is already behind you.

“Nice to meet you, Officer Street,” you say.

He shakes your hand and smiles. “You, too. Do you have any questions before we roll out?”

“One, actually, sir. What is the most important thing to you? What should my focus be?”

Street tilts his head to the side as his smile shifts from friendly to amused. “I don’t want you to spend your day proving yourself to me. You made it this far, so I know you can do this job. That’s all you need to focus on: do what you’ve been trained to do, do it well, and stay safe.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply.

“Alright. Go get the gear and meet me in the garage.”

You dip your head once before you walk past him to check out your equipment. Street’s attitude surprised you, but you won’t let your guard down. Yes, being a police officer is your main objective, yet you know you can’t do that without your TO approving your work.

“No,” Street says. “You need to go in at an angle. If you can’t see the window before you approach the vehicle, you wait for backup. When you’re riding alone, you’re cover and contact at the same time.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

More than listening, you walk out further and slow until you can see in the driver’s window. His hands are on the steering wheel, and no weapons are in sight. You look toward Street and nod before approaching the driver to issue a speeding ticket. It goes well, the driver is kind and understanding, and you’re simply waiting for the other (no pun intended) boot to drop. Your first day is going too well based on what you’ve heard about being a rookie.

“You did really well,” Street praises as you return to the shop. “Your understanding of procedure is great. Can’t imagine how well you’ll do on the rookie exam.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.

You came into the station this morning expecting to be in another horror story. One you would escape as a cop in short sleeves, but after a trying probationary period regardless. Yet, you’re sitting beside Jim Street, who has blindsided you completely. He’s stern and gives good instructions, yet he is incredibly sweet to you. Between calls, he asks you about yourself, helps you prepare for possible scenarios, and while you’re actively working, he gives you room to do it yourself. 

You would be the first to admit that his attitude and actions have taken you aback. However, you refuse to let your shock and respect for him hinder your work. Street is great, and you’d love to get to know him outside of the shop, but it will never happen. Your TO will never see you as more than a boot, and even if he is nice, it doesn’t mean anything. So, your focus remains on the job. However, that focus wavers when you overhear Street comforting a young girl at a crime scene. He’s special, and you’re falling into something that you know is wrong.

The last day of your first week as a rookie arrives quickly. One boot has already quit, driven to believe they weren’t good enough by their TO. It’s an odd parallel to your relationship with Street, who has only reprimanded you once. He apologized after and explained that seeing you in danger made him speak without thinking. 

He walks into the bullpen after you arrive and smiles as he passes you. I’m doomed, you realize immediately. Falling in love with your TO has to be against some unspoken rule. It’s just a harmless crush; don’t get distracted, you scold yourself. Yet, when he approaches you after you receive your assignment for the day, you know that is far easier said than done. He’s been a cop longer than you, he is your superior, your future relies on him, and most importantly, Jim Street will never see you as anything other than a part of his job.

“Do you want to drive today?” Street asks as you walk to the garage, side-by-side.

“Depends,” you answer slowly. “Is that a trick question or a trap?”

Street chuckles as he shakes his head. “Just an offer to let you drive.”

“Then, yes, I’d like that. And I’ll be sure to turn on my blinker exactly 300 yards before planned turns.”

“I don’t think I could even gauge that distance,” Street counters.

“That has to be a trap.”

“They’re not traps. I’m not trying to set you up to fail. You’ve got this.”

“I hope so,” you mumble as you open the driver’s door.

As you pull out of the station and onto the streets of Los Angeles, you focus on the road. But the silence is unsettling, so you decide to ask a question and ease the tension you feel.

“Do I have to use my blinkers during a pursuit?” you ask.

“I’m not answering that,” Street replies.

“Why not?”

“Because you know the answer.” He smiles and shakes his head before he adds, “If you’re going to ask me a question, find one that isn’t so obvious.”

“Okay. Why didn’t you yell at me for missing the third suspect when we cleared that house yesterday?”

It’s been bothering you since it happened. Such blatant oversight would have ended in a lecture for any other rookie. Street simply arrested him and reminded you to check in closets, not just open the door.

“There was no reason to yell. You made a mistake; it happens,” Street explains. “I hope that my explanation will help you do better in the future. Yelling would have just made you nervous.”

“They don’t teach that in TO school, do they?”

“Look, the horror stories are true. Every one of them. My TO was hard on me, too. But we all do this in different ways, and for different cops. You needed a reminder, not a lecture.”

“So, you’re saying you will lecture me if the situation calls for it?”

“I would prefer not to. I like complimenting you more,” Street says.

You smile but don’t reply as dispatch alerts you to an abduction in the area. The dispatcher relays the details of the amber alert, and you shift your attention from Street to finding the suspects’ van.

Back at the station, after the abducted child had been found without a scratch, you watch Street talk to your watch commander. All the TOs are in his office while you sit in the bullpen with the rest of the rookies.

I like complimenting you more Street said earlier. You refuse to see something that isn’t there, but you like Street. More than you should.

“Good morning,” you greet as you exit the locker room on Monday morning.

“Morning,” Street replies. “How was your weekend?”

“Educational.”

Street’s brows raise as he looks at you. You chuckle at his reaction and shake your head.

“I reviewed my entire rook book. You said you wanted a hard question,” you explain.

“And did you find one?”

“No. It’s all pretty straightforward. Unless what’s the meaning of life counts.”

“It doesn’t. No existential stuff.”

“So, you don’t think we’re fated to be BFFs because I got the best TO and you got the second-best rookie?” you tease.

“Second best?” Street repeats.

“That’s all you caught from that?”

“I heard you, that’s just what I’m choosing to acknowledge. Are you ready to go?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows at Street’s question with the obvious answer.

“I know, stupid question. Let’s go,” Street says.

After you pull out, dispatch announces a domestic disturbance less than a mile away. Street attaches you and himself to the call, so you drive toward the address with your lights and sirens on.

“Remember protocol. These are never easy,” Street reminds you as you park outside the house.

You nod before you exit the shop. Yelling and glass shattering are audible from the yard, and Street directs you toward a side entrance. It stands open, and you stop before you become visible to the people inside.

“I’ll cover, you make entry and evaluate the situation,” Street instructs quietly.

“Yes, sir,” you agree.

He raises his weapon toward the door and moves in a small semi-circle behind as you step over the threshold. A wall of cabinets blocks your view, and you lower toward the floor as you move toward an opening. Street moves so he can see anyone coming toward you. When you reach the casing around the doorway, you stop. The floor is covered in broken glass, and you can see blood on several pieces.

You turn toward Street and shake your head. Besides the glass and the blood, you can’t see anything. He nods and gestures for you to come back.

“You’re dead,” someone growls inside. “Good thing about this neighborhood? No one will think twice about the shot.”

Your eyes widen as you nod toward Street. He moves inside silently, and you stand to peek around the corner. A large hand grips the collar of your uniform and pulls you around the corner harshly. You yelp in surprise but raise your elbow toward the man’s jaw.

Street steps toward you quickly but doesn’t hear the men enter the kitchen behind him. Two of them grab him at the same time, pulling his arms back as his gun clatters to the floor.

Around the corner, you continue fighting against the man who has to be more than twice your size. A woman is groaning behind you, but you’re happy to take the attention from her so Street can get in and help her. He twists suddenly and pushes you against the wall with his weight. You can’t move, but you can wait for the right moment if you stay calm.

“Found her partner,” a man yells from the kitchen.

Street yells your name worriedly before he adds, “Backup’s on the way. Get out of here!”

The man holding you with your arms pinned painfully against your sides laughs in your face. Your calm composure is threatened by the knowledge that your suspect isn’t alone, and his co-conspirators, co-abusers, whatever term they would like to be charged with when this is over, have Street trapped.

“She can’t do that,” the man replies. “She can help, though. Give me one, meet at four.”

He raises his hand, and something metal reflects the light from the window before he brings his hand down toward your cheekbone, and you slump against the wall. You distantly register his hands on you as he lifts you, but you’re too disoriented to fight, so you focus on keeping your eyes open to watch where he takes you.

The men in the kitchen struggle to keep Street as he fights to get to you. One of them pulls his handcuffs from his belt and secures his wrists behind his back. With his hands pulled back, chasing them would be pointless. The other kicks the back of Street’s knees, so he falls to the floor. He yells for them to stop, but they exit the door he came in through.

Someone groans in pain in the other room, and Street uses his legs and shoulders to push himself up into a kneeling position. He lifts one knee before pressing himself up to stand. As he moves into the living room, he sees the bloody glass shards and a woman lying on the floor. There is no sign of you, though. Street clenches his jaw before he rolls his shoulders back to retrieve his radio. His hand hits his handcuff key first, and he struggles to undo one of the cuffs. When he’s free, he radios for an ambulance and backup before reporting your abduction. He drops his hand after he ends the transmission.

“This is my fault,” he says to himself.

The woman inhales sharply, and he turns his attention toward her. You are strong but shouldn’t have to be in this situation. Street will get you back, no matter what it takes. The guilt begins to weigh on him as he sees the signs of abuse on the woman beside him. If you are hurt because of him, he will never forgive himself.

Stay calm, he yells in his mind. He’s no use to you if he gets angry and reckless. To find you and save you, he has to focus. When the sirens of police cars and ambulances grow louder, he promises the woman that everything will be okay soon. Then, he forces himself to believe that.

It takes six hours, but Street finds you. He combed through everything he could find; from the rental agreement at the house you were abducted in, he pulled DMV records and rap sheets, then traced every alias, associates, next of kin, and other residences. Then, he evaluated the likelihood of where they would take an abducted cop. There are only four choices, and he takes the most likely one. As he runs inside, he knows he can’t be trusted near the suspect. So, he finds you and doesn’t so much as glance when they haul him out.

“I’m so sorry,” Street apologizes as he kneels beside you.

“For what?” you ask softly.

Street leans over you and sees your swollen, bloody, and bruised cheekbone. There’s a bloodstain on your pants, but Street decides to let the paramedics check you.

“I shouldn’t have let you go in alone.”

“You didn’t. You were covering me, but he knew somehow… Was it brass knuckles?”

“What?” Street questions.

“My cool new face scar. Brass knuckles?”

Street huffs a laugh before he mumbles, “Looks like it.”

You smile before grimacing in pain. Street takes your hand, the one closest to him, and runs his thumb over your knuckles. The ambulance arrives soon after, and three paramedics rush inside to check on you. Street stays beside you as they gather around you.

“Sir, we need you to-“ one of them begins.

“I’m not leaving her,” Street snaps. “Work around me.”

You squeeze his hand, and he takes a deep breath. He glances down, and when he sees your eyes on his face, he decides to watch you rather than what the people around you are doing.

“We have to get her to the hospital,” the female looking at your leg wound announces.

“Officer,” the first paramedic tries again.

“I’m going with her,” Street interrupts.

“I understand. Can you step back so we can get the gurney in?”

Street realizes then that the room you’re in is tiny. You barely fit laid out as you are, and with the paramedics around you, one of them is pressed against the wall to secure a tourniquet around your thigh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Street agrees quietly. “I’m right here,” he reminds you before he pulls his hand from yours.

He steps out of the room, but the moment you’re brought out, Street is back at your side. His hand slides into yours again as he climbs into the ambulance with you. You knew he’d come but weren’t expecting such protectiveness or an apology. Knowing that Street is a good cop and the best TO you could have asked for didn’t prepare you for this.

“Which hospital?” the driver asks.

“Shaw,” Street answers.

“But-“

“Shaw,” he repeats. “The recovery team there is better prepared.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver agrees.

“What’s your blood type?” a paramedic asks.

Street answers for you, and you wonder if he’ll stay this overprotective when you return to the field. Will he ever trust you again? you ask yourself. Will he ever trust himself enough to?

When you’re moved to a private room after a short surgery, Street is waiting for you.

“Look,” you say, raising a clear bag with a broken knife tip inside. “This was in my leg!”

“They put you on the good meds already?” Street asks.

His voice doesn’t sound right; strained sarcasm doesn’t suit him. He nods and takes the bag from your extended hand. As he flips it to look at the metal shard that was millimeters from severing an artery, Street reminds himself that it’s his fault. His guilt has been eating at him since the moment he found you. Seeing the extent of your injuries worsens it.

“I’m not high on pain meds,” you answer. “Just thought it would lighten the mood.”

Street shakes his head and returns your macabre souvenir. 

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t apologize. When- The doctor said you can start therapy as soon as you feel better and get some rest. They’re thinking you can get back to work next week… if you want.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” you ask.

“Listen, I won’t let anything like this happen again. Ever. Whether you decide to continue your training with me or not.”

You tilt your head to the side to look at Street. He’s tired, stressed, worried, or some combination of all three.

“I don’t want another TO,” you tell him. “I got hurt. It’s part of what I signed up for.”

“But you didn’t-“

“I knew what I was getting into, Street,” you interrupt. “This doesn’t make me weak or mean that I need another training officer. I want to finish what we started. If you don’t… then that’s your choice.”

“I want to,” Street says quickly. “Of course I want to.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course. Get some rest. We’ve got therapy to start.”

“We?”

“Someone has to train you through your recovery. Can’t have you drop to the third-best rookie.”

Street leans back in the stiff hospital chair and closes his eyes. You watch him momentarily; his tight jaw, tense shoulders, and smile don’t go together, yet you still think he’s handsome. Even after being kidnapped, you still have a crush on Street. You shake your head and lay back, your smile matching Street’s as you drift off.

“Street!” Hicks yells. “Wait up.”

Street turns in the hospital hallway and furrows his brows. “Commander,” he greets.

“I heard about what happened to your rookie. How’s she doin’?”

“Better. She just finished physical therapy. The doctors think she’ll be discharged tomorrow and ready for field work within a week. No long-term damage, other than some scars.”

“That’s good. Let me ask you a question, Jim, and I want you to think before you answer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why are you still here? She’s fine, yet you’re stuck to her side and walking beside her through every step of this recovery.”

Street ponders the question before he answers, “Because it’s my fault. This happened because I let her go in first, I was careless. So, I’m doing everything I can to make it better, and I won’t let it happen again. I can’t.”

Hicks nods. “I get it. But she went in, too. It’s the hardest part about being a TO. Okay? We drill it into their heads, but at the end of the day, they make their own calls.”

Street knows that, deep down. But the guilt, the responsibility for putting you here, won’t disappear with one simple reminder. He can’t eliminate the guilt by reminding himself that you did it. He can’t shift the guilt or accept that bad things happen. Not when he can do something about it.

“Okay,” Street answers. “I’ll, uh, I’ll give her some room.”

“Maybe not too much,” Hicks says as he turns to leave.

During your last physical therapy appointment before you’re discharged, Street is absent. He left to go home and stop by your apartment and make sure it was prepared for you to recover over the weekend. It surprised you, the sudden shift from overprotective to helpful. Not that he wasn’t helpful while overprotective, but the space feels odd now.

You remind yourself that Street has other responsibilities, and his decision to prepare your apartment for your return was protective, too. There is no arguing with yourself that your feelings have grown stronger, though. Despite knowing, you force your feelings for Street down. You just have to be respectful and professional. He’s your TO, he’s helping you recover, nothing more. You think.

“Today will be hectic,” your watch commander says as he enters. “Events, sales, and one of the biggest traveling days of the season mean you will be busy today. Don’t sacrifice form or safety for anything. Call backup when you need it and watch out for each other. This is still policing, so remember your protocols and procedures and we will get through this.”

Street calls your name as you stand and wraps his fingers around your bicep. You turn toward him and smile, but it drops at his serious look.

“We are sticking together today. Every call, no matter how small or safe they seem. Understood?” he asks.

“Understood,” you answer with a nod.

“You know everything to do, we just need to make sure our surroundings are conducive to our job. Anything seems off and we call backup.”

“Yes, sir. It’s going to be busy, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea. Go grab the gear and we’ll get an early start.”

“Street! A moment?” Commander Hicks calls.

Street nods before trailing his fingers over your sleeve as he steps back. You watch him approach Hicks but look away quickly and remind yourself that you have a job to do. Ignoring your feelings after a touch like that is harder than anything you’ve done as a cop.

While you sign for your gear, Hicks shakes his head at Street. “How is she doing?” Hicks asks. 

“She’s recovered well. Since coming back, she’s-“

Hicks raises his hand, and Street stops talking. “You’re talking like her TO, but you aren’t acting like a TO.”

“I-“

“You never have, though, have you? Because your relationship was never normal or professional. I wouldn’t even say platonic.”

Street remains quiet. Never normal or professional, never platonic. You have never been any of those things in Street’s mind; Hicks is right about that. Street never treated you like a boot because he never saw you as one. He barely saw you as a cop some days. And when you were injured, he only saw someone he needed to be close to.

“Oh,” Street murmurs.

Hicks scoffs before he smiles and demands, “Don’t oh me, kid, go do something about it.”

Street nods quickly and walks toward the shop. He can’t do anything about it while you’re on the clock and surrounded by body and dash cams. He’ll have to hide his realization until the end of the day. It can’t be that hard… right?

You sigh as you exit the locker room in your civvies. It was just as hectic today as was advertised.

“Hey,” Street calls as he jogs to your side. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course,” you answer. “What’s up?”

Street hesitates, running through several ways to start this conversation. None of the options seem right, but he needs to talk to you about it. 

You brush your fingers over his wrist and whisper, “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Street says. “I apologize for treating you unprofessionally.”

You pull your hand away as if it’s been burned and smile. “It’s okay. I, uh- it’s an honor to learn from you, regardless of how you treat me.”

“You’ve learned a lot,” Street agrees. “You’re well on your way to becoming LA’s next best cop.” He rubs his hand along his jaw nervously before he adds, “Yet I still can’t see you as a boot.”

“You don’t?” you repeat. Does he see me like I see him? Or is this where he tells me something I don’t want to hear?

“No. I never have, but it’s been harder recently, you’re more than that.”

“I’ve had feelings for you since my first day,” you admit. “That is unprofessional, so I hid everything.”

“Even after you got abducted and hurt because of me?” Street asks.

He tries to sound like he’s joking but fails. You can see it now; the overprotectiveness was the result, but the guilt you see now was the reason.

“Street,” you murmur as you grab his arm gently. “No. That was not your fault. You saved me.”

“It wouldn’t have happened without me,” Street argues.

“I made a choice too, Street. But you? You saved my life. So, yeah, I still have feelings for you after that. You can’t hold yourself responsible or feel guilty for anything that happened before you decided to save me.”

Street nods and steps closer to you. “I’ll be responsible for what happens next, too.”

“What does that mean?”

Street looks around before he asks, “Do you think you could pretend for a while longer? Until I’m not your TO anymore?”

“I could wait forever, Street,” you answer with a smile. “Just stop blaming yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Street offers. “Goodnight.”

“It is now,” you whisper as you pat his arm.

Street watches you walk out of the station, then walks through the halls to find Hicks. His office door is open, and Street knocks before Hicks waves for him to enter.

“Thank you,” Street says. “For pointing out what I wasn’t seeing.”

“Street, dating another cop is a dangerous game,” Hicks warns. “You both care about each other but that doesn’t mean you get to bend the rules to be together.”

“I know. I’ve got that handled, and we won’t be breaking any rules. Unless there’s something against using sarcasm to flirt.”

Hicks shakes his head and smiles. “For once, Street, I believe that you can handle it. Just at least try to pretend to be professional.”

“Pretending to be professional is what I do best.”

[sserpente]

A/N: Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates! ♥ Some naughty President Loki action seems like a fitting Easter gift to me, what do you think? Also, I’m proud to announce there’s an actual Easter egg in this Imagine that may or may not have something to do with my upcoming English novel… Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2616 Warnings: assassin!Reader, violence, dub-con, smut

One and a half million—as a deposit. That’s how much you demanded to see in your secret bank account before you had even considered going anywhere near what used to be Stark Tower and now acted as a base for him. Loki. President Loki.

You didn’t particularly care who you were supposed to kill, nor who hired you to do it. Governments were corrupted all over the world—there was not a single politician who didn’t act in his own interests rather than the people’s. You were only in it for the money.

President Loki, however… he was different. That man was a god with abilities you wouldn’t even dare dream of as a mere human. Your raised fee would reflect the danger you’d put yourself in if you accepted this mission. And then once the God of Mischief was dead, you’d be ten million dollars richer.

You were the best of the best—you got hired when the job needed to get done. You doubted that anyone else would be capable of sending Loki straight to hell. Or was it Helheim? He was a Norse god, after all. Surely, there was some eternal hellfire reserved for the likes of him.

But then again, you weren’t exactly a saint either. You murdered for money, never questioning whether the person whose life you were going to end was innocent or not. Granted, most of them were not and had red on their ledger one way or another but occasionally… occasionally, they did not deserve to die.

You were pretty certain that Loki did though. He wasn’t the worst ruler this world had ever seen but at the end of the day… he was an alien king forcing humans into submission. You wouldn’t bow to anyone, you thought, as you polished the sharp and hidden blade inside your lipstick. The job was messier when you chose it as your weapon but with Loki, you’d have to be sure. A slit throat would ensure he was truly dead and for that, you would have to get up close.

This time, your approach was going to be a little… unconventional. You had thought about it for a long time—and you had come to the conclusion that there was no other way to get into that tower without getting killed yourself before making it even anywhere near Loki.

Judy Magenta. That was the made-up name you had used to register for the escort service to receive legal identification for offering Loki… your time. It had taken quite a few naughty pictures to lure him in, along with a bought recommendation from another escort girl one of Loki’s lackeys booked regularly.

You had to admit, you did feel a little silly putting on that green glittery cocktail dress after tossing your lipstick knife into your clutch. The black high heels were a lovely touch though. You’d keep them after this job, as a trophy.

-

“You’re here to… entertain the president tonight?” The bulky bald man who escorted you to the lifts after the taxi driver dropped you off right in front of Stark Tower licked his lips when his greedy gaze travelled up and down your V-shaped cleavage.

“I am,” you gave back with a sweet smile, batting your eyelashes at him all the while you imagined kicking him in the balls until he howled for his mummy. You could tell he kept staring at your body and your rather revealing outfit during the ride up to the penthouse but, for the sake of keeping in mind you were not really an escort girl, you elected to ignore it and said nothing.

President Loki was standing at his bar surrounded by power-hungry politicians eager for his attention. Dressed in a black suit with a green tie and those golden horns on his head, he turned to face you with a glass filled with what you presumed was bourbon in his hand. He lifted his chin in a curious manner, his blue eyes narrowing just a little.

“Mr President…” the bulky bouncer began. “Uh… this is…”

“Judy. Judy Magenta. Your company for the night?” you offered. The bouncer let out a relieved breath.

“Ahh… just in time. I was just about to call it a day.” Loki’s voice was smooth, charming. He had a way with words, you had to give him that. Under different circumstances, you’d even admit that he was outrageously attractive. He was a god, after all. That must have been the reason.

You didn’t know if he’d done this before—or if he’d done it back on Asgard but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter, right? You were only doing this because it would give you the perfect opportunity to get just close enough to kill him and get this over with. Pleasure had no place here.

“Gentlemen… I will see you tomorrow. And you…” His blue eyes fixated on you, involuntarily sending shivers up and down your spine. “…why don’t you wait for me in my bedroom? I will be joining you shortly.”

You almost scoffed. So formal… if the sex was going to be anything like that… ugh. Well, most men with a big ego disappointed under the sheets.

Nodding, you made your way over to the door he pointed at and slid inside, taking in the furniture. A king-size bed with green sheets, of course, hundreds of books on shelves towering up all the way to the ceiling, and a neat desk armed with ink and a green and gold quill. It was very old-fashioned but a surprisingly comfortable room, you decided, as you threw your clutch on the bed.

You’d come prepared. Condoms, lube, even a cock ring. Whatever would tickle his fancy before you’d draw your little knife for a different kind of climax. By the time his lackeys would notice he was dead, you would be long gone. You were wearing a wig tonight as well, along with some coloured contacts to conceal your identity. Life as an assassin was a dangerous and lonely one but you were pretty used to it.

You flipped around when you heard the door open, forcing a fake smile. Loki had removed his horns now, and swapped his suit for a more comfortable outfit. In fact, he was shirtless, putting his pale but trained chest and arms on display. He wasn’t as shredded as Thor but the God of Thunder had never been your type anyway. Loki on the other hand… remember, no pleasure!

Your feigned smile widened as you turned around and moved your fake hair out of the way. “Help me undress?” You felt his presence behind you after a few silent steps, his soft fingers ghosting over your back to unzip you.

Needless to say, you had relinquished wearing any underwear tonight even though you did carry a spare pair of knickers in your clutch just in case. Once he slid the green dress off of your body and you stepped out of it, you turned back around, trailing your fingers over his abs.

“Ready for some fun, Mr President?”

“Loki will suffice, pet,” he replied. Pet? Oh, of course. Complete and utter submission. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him and instead, took his hands in yours and started walking backwards until you could lie down on his bed, pulling him on top of you.

You had to admit, you quite enjoyed how hungrily he glared at your naked body, his blue eyes wandering over every single inch of bare skin as if he was a demon you had summoned and now aimed to please in exchange for his power. The bulge in his trousers grew quickly as he hovered above you.

“Loki,” you repeated, testing his name on your tongue. Then, you reached for your clutch on his bed, pulling out the lube.

“And what’s that when it’s at home?” he asked, eyeing the bottle in your hands suspiciously.

You smiled at him. “Lube will make this experience more enjoyable for the both of us, Loki.”

The God of Mischief frowned. You blinked at him when he began to chuckle as if you’d just told him a hilarious joke.

“I can guarantee you, we will not need it, pet.” You were about to protest when he cupped your cunt with his hand all of a sudden, two fingers lightly stroking over your outer lips. You dropped the small bottle the moment his thumb found your clit, applying just enough pressure to ignite… arousal. He knew what he was doing. You realised that the moment he bent down to pepper your neck with hot kisses and teasing licks, his digits working their magic. He had you wet and ready for him within minutes of this delicious treatment. Fuck… you were not supposed to be enjoying this!

“There we go… it seems your body thinks we don’t need your lube either…”

You gasped for air when he slid two fingers inside of you, curling them at your g-spot. Your hips were bucking up to meet his hand against your will the moment the slick sounds of him fingering you echoed through the silent bedroom.

“Oh… fuck…” That felt good. You couldn’t quite remember the last time you had taken a minute to masturbate. That… that must have been why. You hadn’t had sex in so long that Loki exploring your soaking pussy had you writhing because of your celibate lifestyle.

His dark chuckle went directly between your legs too. And it was only then you realised that his trousers had disappeared into thin air, willed away by magic. You could feel his hard length pressing against your inner thigh, eager to claim you. Much to your own surprise… you wanted him to.

“C-Condom…” you choked out panting. But your reward was Loki removing his fingers from your cunt to instead snatch your wrists and pin them down above your head to render you all but helpless beneath him.

“A condom? I don’t think so, pet…” And with that, he forced himself between your legs and used his free hand to guide himself into your waiting hole. Inch by inch, Loki pushed forward, sheathing his girth inside you until he’d claimed you to the brim. His growl made you moan as he filled you so deliciously well that you believed your pussy was made for him.

When he started moving, you almost forgot why you were here. Loki withdrew almost entirely and then began rutting into you like there was no tomorrow. He fucked the assassin right out of you—for when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he made sure to attack your neck yet again.

Moaning, you arched your back, your breasts brushing against his bare chest with every single thrust of his and fuck, this man knew how to use his tool. Each and every stroke drove you further to what already felt like the best orgasm of your life as the sound of sex and skin slapping against skin filled the room.

“I can feel you tightening around me, pet. Cum. Beg me for my seed,” Loki growled into your ear. You wanted to disobey him—wanted to disobey that commanding tone, that entitled smugness. But you couldn’t. Loki played you like an instrument, taking that delicious climax from you whether you wanted to give it to him or not.

You came around him with a moan, your toes curling and your walls pulsing around him, doing just what he had asked you to do. Your cunt was begging for his seed. He was merciful tonight. Loki reached his own peak with a low growl only moments later, filling you up and staining your walls until it came oozing out of you.

Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, that arsehole had screwed you without a condom! Only now that you came back to your senses did you realise what you had let him do. Okay, don’t freak out… you can get a morning-after pill as soon as you are out the door. You’d ruin everything if you lashed out at him now. Besides… Loki was still hard—and it did not seem like he was going to tire any time soon.

-

It was three a.m. when he finally let you rest. Your pussy was sore, his cum leaking from almost all of your openings. He’d made you cum for him at least six more times before you’d lost count and now… now he was sound asleep next to you.

Time to strike.

As quiet as a mouse so you wouldn’t wake him up, you reached for your clutch that had at some point fallen to the floor, retrieving your lipstick knife. Then, you climbed on top of him, revealing the blade in the dark. You could barely make out his features with the curtains drawn but your eyes were trained to work in the shadows.

You gripped your weapon tighter, ready to slit his throat.

“I wonder…”, he mused with a start. You froze. “I wonder how much money you were offered to try.” He’s awake. “Are you going to tell me, pet?”

Your heart was beating so fast you worried it would jump straight out of your chest. Your paralysis lasted for only a second too long. By the time you reacted to finish what you’d started and kill him, he’d already overwhelmed you. Loki snatched your wrist so harshly you were forced to drop your weapon. He flipped you both over so you came to lie on the bed beneath him, his face only inches from yours. You winced when he ripped the wig off of you.

“Now… I’m impressed. You went to considerable lengths to get close to me. But you see, pet, I am the God of Mischief. I’m not easily tricked.” Cold shivers ran up and down your spine when he proceeded to call you by your real name. “But I must admit,” he went on, “that I am also a little disappointed. You know the punishment for attempted assassination of your king, do you not?”

Death. Execution. You swallowed thickly. How had he found out? He’d known. He’d known this entire time you were no real escort girl and still… he’d still fucked you! You gnashed your teeth, narrowing your eyes at him with anger usurping your growing fear.

“It’s a shame, really… you would make such a fine pet. Hmm…” He paused, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. “I think I’m going to keep you.”

Your eyes widened. “Kill me or let me go, Loki. I’m not playing your stupid games.”

“Oh, but you will, pet. You better get used to your new surroundings. You won’t be leaving any time soon.”

He made you moan involuntarily when he pushed inside of you without any forewarning. You hadn’t even realised he’d gotten hard again.

“Now…” he mused. “How much was it?” His lazy strokes made you even angrier—it felt good. Too fucking good.

“Ten… million,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Ahh… well, I hope the money was worth your freedom. Because you are mine now, my little assassin.”

You wanted to punch him, scratch him and bite him, to wipe that mischievous smirk from his face. But you couldn’t. Not right now anyway—Loki kept rutting into you until you were sure to lose consciousness. My little assassin… you hated the depraved and lascivious part of you that enjoyed the idea of him keeping you as a pet.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you’d finish your mission, right after… right after you’d let him give you another orgasm. You’d… find a way… surely…