#Food Court Golden I

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[zombiecowboy65]

Currently losing my mind at the image of Jean in the supermarket waiting for a text back that tells him if they need onions or not

[burinazar]

i think the made in abyss concert today pressed some kind of healing reset button on my soul btw

[stars-on-fyre]

Me: *playing Persona 4 Golden casually*

Adachi: *says a sentence in a particular way*

Me: VASH THE STAMPEDE?!?!

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just��just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

[ineffectualdemon]

Canon facts about Shang Qinghua:

1. He is competent both as a peak lord and a spy. He was not suspected. Not even by Shen Jiu. And he was generally respected enough in his field and his duties. I don't get the impression anyone was close to him as he was often away for work but he was friendly and not disliked

2. He didn't work after exposed as a spy. Mobei just let him be idle and follow him around. He wasn't running Mobei's court or acting a servant he's just hanging out and being allowed even in spaces he wasn't supposed to be by virtue of Mobei wanting him there.

3. He doesn't fight but he's not expected to and no one really cares except Cucumber

4. Liu Qingge was going to execute him when he showed up at Binghe's palace looking for Plant Shen but the Mobei fought him to protect Shang Qinghua and destroyed half the palace in the process

5. Shen Qingqiu for all he complains and pokes at Shang Qinghua also says they're friends at least once (even though he denies it later) and goes to protect Shang Qinghua from Zhuzhi Lang but Mobei beats him too the punch

6. It is is said that Shang Qinghua is getting beaten 3 times a day but Mu Qingfang is not at all suspicious or worried about Shang Qinghua and the only time anyone notes him being roughed up is Shen Qingqiu noting that his mouth is a little swollen on the corner in one of the extras and puts it down to Mobei hitting him again. Therefore we have no evidence that these are vicious serious beatings with broken limbs. They probably at most left a bruise that was easily healed

7. Shang Qinghua cultivated his golden core before Shen Jiu

9. Linguang-Jun's spies though Mobei was treating Shang Qinghua very well and favoured

10. Luo Binghe does not hate or have bad feelings towards Shang Qinghua. He lets him follow Mobei everywhere, Shang Qinghua revealed Shen Qingqiu's identity as Plant Shen, and Shang Qinghua gave him good advice for nabbing Shen Qingqiu. Further evidence is even if he's annoyed by Shang Qinghua dropping in on him and Shen Qingqiu during their honeymoon he allows Shang Qinghua to eat the extra food in the pot. He let someone else eat some of the food he makes for his Shizun. (Personal headcanon here: Shang Qinghua is his favourite Martial Uncle and the only one he willingly calls Shishu)

[violetflowerswrites]

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

[be-my-sunrise]

Court-side Fever || z.cl

pairings: bf!chenle x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors pls dni

word count: 1,826

warnings: car sex, unprotected sex, pussy and thigh slapping, hair pulling, creampie, fingering, tit play. let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: happy new year's everyone! i hope you all enjoy your holiday :D i haven't posted in a while and i apologize for not being active here😞 anyways, enjoy this chenle fic! watching him play basketball does things to me, so i decided to write about it lmao

special thanks to @onriyuview @notyourjaem @lovetaroandtaemin @jenoslutie for helping me out🩵 ily teehee :3

“Good game, dude. See you next week!”

Chenle daps Mark up and leaves the basketball court. After bidding his goodbyes to Haechan and Jeno as well, he jogs towards where you’re sitting and grabs his water bottle. 

“Babe, do you want to order food at home, or should we go to a drive-thru?” He asks before downing his water.

However, you barely heard what he said. You don’t usually come with him when he’s playing basketball with his friends, mainly because Chenle feels bad about having you wait hours for him. But you insisted on tagging along this time, and boy, you were glad you did. 

Seeing him play and watching his moves on the court after so long has you in a trance. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together subconsciously almost the entire time. It's clear that he does things to your body, and it's evident in the way your panties stick to your core.

Now that he’s standing before you, lust clouds your mind, and every inch of your body is fighting the urge to take him on this bench. He looks so ravishing, all sweaty like this, the sun behind him like a paid actor. 

The cast of warm golden light around him only emphasizes the droplets of sweat on his dewy skin, and it’s not doing much to help with your situation.

Chenle glances at you when he doesn't hear any response. He waves one hand in front of your face. “Baby?”

You blink your eyes a couple of times, waking yourself up from your daze. “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” 

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Uhh… no?” You look away nervously, which makes him chuckle. “Should we just order in? You seem a bit tired.”

More like aroused, but he’s right, you are somewhat tired. Tired of squeezing your thighs together. You need him so badly that you can’t even think straight. Realizing that Chenle is waiting for your answer, you give him a nod as a response.

“Alright then, let’s go home!”

Chenle leans down to pick up his bag from the ground beside your feet, and you suck in a sharp breath when you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells so fucking good, and it's driving you insane.

You stand up abruptly, almost bumping into his head in the process. He grabs your arm before you could walk away and pulls you close. “Baby, why are you being weird today? Are you okay?”

One proper look at him is all it takes for you to crash your lips against his. You practically throw your body onto Chenle, making him yelp when his back hits the fence. The kiss catches him off guard, but he quickly snaps out of it.

“You're so fucking hot, baby. I need you so bad,” you say in between kisses and feel him smirk.

You bunch his shirt up in a fit of desperation, exposing his toned abs. Chenle quickly snatches your wrist away when he feels you tugging on the waistband of his shorts. 

“Slow down, baby,” he says after pulling away. “Let's continue this in the car, yeah?”

He chuckles when he sees your face light up. You're buzzing with excitement as you drag him to his car, quite literally shoving him inside and straddling him in a blink of an eye.

You connect your lips with his again while grinding your core against his bulge. Chenle pulls your hips down to make you feel his hardening member even more. You run your fingers through his damp hair, giving it a slight pull. 

The kiss gets messier as the two of you get more desperate. He pulls away to catch his breath and tilts his head to give you more access as you start to leave hickeys across his neck. A small moan escapes his lips when you lick a stripe across his salty skin and blow cool air on the fresh red marks.

“If I had known you’d be like this, I would’ve taken you with me a long time ago,” he says breathlessly.

“I feel the same way, baby. I forgot how hot you look when you’re playing basketball,” you giggle. “At least we know better now.”

Chenle lays you down on the seat before pulling your pants down along with your panties in one swift motion. He smirks at the sight of your leaking core. 

“Fuck, baby. You must really like watching me play, hm? You soaked through your panties,” he says as he dangles your panties next to his face. 

You bite down on your lower lip when drags his finger along your slit, hips twitching as he lands a light slap on your clit. He pushes his pants down with one hand while rubbing your sensitive bud with the other. 

You feel a shiver down your spine when Chenle taps his cock on your clit, letting out a moan as he spreads your arousal across your pussy. You wait for him to push it in, but he continues to rub his cock against your slit and you start getting impatient. 

“You're so fucking wet I could just slip in easily,” he moans, admiring the mess he's making.

“Stop teasing and put it in then!” 

You snap and roll your eyes at Chenle, which makes him raise an eyebrow at your sudden change of attitude. 

“It’s cute that you think you can talk to me like that,” he scoffs. Chenle grips your thigh before landing a slap on it, making you flinch.

“You should be grateful that I’m hard as fuck right now, otherwise I would leave you untouched,” he says as he pulls you up by your arm. “On your knees.”

You quickly adjust your position, standing on your knees and placing your hands on the backrest. You let out a yelp when he pulls your head back by your hair, feeling his hot breath on your ear. 

“I've been spoiling you too much, and now you’re giving me attitude.”

You moan as he slowly rubs your clit. “Chenle, please.”

“Please what baby?” He teases while nibbling on your ear.

You try to form words but you can’t think straight. Your pussy is throbbing and the feeling of his hands on you makes you dizzy.

“Please… I need you,” you whine. Chenle lets out a condescending laugh seeing you push your ass back, grinding against his cock. 

“You can do better than that,” he says before slapping your ass.

“Fuck! Please, baby, I need you so bad. Need your cock inside me now, please.”

A gasp escapes your lips as Chenle pushes his cock all the way inside you, letting you adjust to his size for a moment as he leaves kisses on your neck. He pulls his cock out almost entirely, leaving just the tip before pushing himself back in all the way. 

His thrusts are deep and rough, your breath getting caught in your throat each time his hips slam against yours.

“You feel so good, baby,” he whispers before pulling on your hair once more. “Always so tight and wet.”

“O-only for you,” your voice trembles, barely managing to say anything.

He chuckles, “Is that so? Such a good girl.” 

Chenle slips both hands underneath your shirt, giving your tits a nice grip before pulling down your bra. He tugs on your nipples and rolls them between his fingers, making you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he continues thrusting relentlessly.

The car shakes with each thrust, and only the sounds of skin slapping and your broken moans can be heard. The grip you have on the seat tightens as Chenle angles his hips to push his cock even deeper, earning a loud moan from you.

Your thighs tremble as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly. He places one hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss, and you moan into the kiss when you feel his fingers sneak their way onto your clit. 

“Baby, I'm-”

“Close? I know, baby. You keep clenching around me,” he chuckles. He picks up the pace and rubs your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

Your jaw goes slack as the pleasure overwhelms you. The way you're squeezing his cock makes him dizzy. Chenle lets out a groan, his thrusts getting sloppier as he reaches his climax. 

He pushes his cock all the way inside you as he cums, and you grind your hips against his to help him ride out his high. He presses a kiss on your temple before pulling out of your warmth.

You gasp as he cups your pussy and flicks his fingers against your slit with a quick motion, making his cum drip onto the leather seat. He tugs on your shirt as a signal for you to take it off. 

“Lay down on your back for me, baby,” he says with a low tone.

You lay back down on the seat and he spreads your legs wide. Chenle pulls your bra down to expose your hardened nipples and leans over to latch his lips around one of them. 

He shoves his fingers inside your pussy as he flicks his tongue on your nipple and you suck in a sharp breath, back arching from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good,” you moan. 

You place your hand on his head to feel him even closer as he sucks on your nipple, making you whimper. You're still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so it doesn't take long until you feel the familiar knot again.

“Oh, god. I'm gonna cum again, baby.”

Chenle unlatches his lips from your nipple and straightens his back, pushing his fingers all the way inside before curling them. The intensity of his fingers has you crying out in pleasure as you reach your second climax, legs convulsing as he pulls his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit quickly. 

Your legs clamp around his arm, but he uses his other hand to spread them apart and hold them down. Chenle slaps your clit harshly after you come down from your high, making your hips twitch. 

He grips your tits using the hand that's still wet with your arousal, flicking the bud until your chest starts to tremble and you let out a shaky breath from the tingly sensation. 

He leans down to kiss you once more before tucking his cock back into his pants. You were about to get up and redress yourself, but Chenle stops you. You look at him confused.

“You're staying like this until we get home, baby,” he says with a smirk on his face. 

He grabs one of your hands and places it on your core. Then, Chenle climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts his mirror so he can watch you play with yourself.  

“Just keep that pretty little pussy of yours wet for me.”

a/n: save me basketball player chenle😵‍💫🫠 thank you for reading<3 i hope you like it!

[daycourtofficial]

Blood moon in Autumn

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of violence

Summary: fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series, however this can be read as a standalone. @writingcroissant actually gave me the idea for this so everyone say thanks Tori 🥰

Death was imminent, you were sure of it. Every fiber of your being ached, the pain emanating from your lower abdomen through the rest of your body. It felt like someone was stabbing you with a rusted, dull knife, the blade carving out your insides slowly at their leisure.

You heard your bedroom door open and close, footsteps coming towards the bed. You groan in greeting as the steps get closer.

“Just leave me here to die, Er.”

A soft chuckle makes its way to your ears, despite the layers of blankets you are burrowed beneath, the blankets not offering you the comfort you so desperately crave.

“You’ll be remembered for even in death, your flare for the dramatics never faltered.”

You push your face from the blankets, allowing your face to be seen. You scowl towards your mate, his smirk making you want to push him from the window. You take in the sight of him - he had changed into more relaxed clothes since you saw him last. Gone is his formal jacket, a deep red velvet with golden leaf embroidery. The garment would make anyone look like court royalty, but on Eris it made him look positively radiant, as if the fires of Autumn truly originated from him, as if the apple orchards and the crops found their nutrients from him. You loved when he wore it, your fingers tracing the fine embroidery along the lapel as you would straddle his lap, grinding softly-

You groaned, the idea of moving so much making you nauseous and slightly dizzy.

Now he wore a loose, billowy shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual brown trousers covering his toned legs. If it were any other day, you’d devour him. Any other day, you’d pull him directly into bed, pushing his clothes off of him, neither of you leaving bed until you slipped his shirt on to grab the two of you some pastries.

Instead, the sight of him made you slightly annoyed - he seemed fine as he set down a tray on the table next to you. He was fine this morning when he rose, having to tend to some things before returning. You were dying, and he was perfectly fine. You groaned, shifting to sit up on your elbows. “What’s this?”

“I believe those of us who leave our beds call it ‘food’.”

His smirk disappears at the pillow that hits his feet. He sends you a withering glare that just makes you scoff. “That could have hit the tray of coffee I made for you.”

You perked up at the sound of coffee - you were sure the warm liquid would at least distract your insides. Or at least provide you some comfort.

You’d take anything at this point.

“Did you make the coffee? Or did you just prepare the tray?”

“What difference does it make? Coffee is coffee.”

“Well, if Jora made it, then I aimed perfectly for your feet.”

“What if it was my coffee?”

“Then I would have aimed for the tray.”

He gives you a withering stare, his fingers halting their movements. “Now that’s no way to treat your mate who lovingly made you coffee.”

You squint your eyes, “if it’s my mate that’s making the coffee, it’s more of an assassination attempt than love.”

“You wound me, my love.” Despite your grievances, he continues preparing your cup exactly as you like it.

“Is the wound fatal?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall pay my respects at your funeral, then. With my next husband.”

His eyebrow quirks as he rests the cup on your side table before he rounds the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets on top of you. He crawls in behind you, his body heat causing you to melt.

“Next husband?”

“I will get lonely. Besides, the hounds need a male’s touch. They’ll grow soft under me.”

“And who is this next husband? Is he capable of this?”

Before you can ask what ‘this’ is, he slides his arm around your waist, his palm lying flat over your lower abdomen, his fingers spreading across your skin. Your skin began heating under his touch, and you moaned at the relief he provided you.

“If he’s not, he’s not worth it. Perhaps one of your brothers will be capable. Lu, maybe?”

Eris growled at the teasing, your friendship with Lucien a constant sore spot for him amidst his rekindling relationship with his youngest brother. He hated to admit it, but he seethed with jealousy watching you interact with Lucien, the way your conversation would flow easily.

A life of regrets and Lucien takes several of the top five spots.

“Lucien would make a terrible husband. You’d never see him - he spends all day brushing his hair.”

“I like a well-groomed male.”

“The noises his eye makes would keep you up all night.”

“I think you’re getting us confused. The whirring would soothe me to sleep.”

He buries his face into your neck, mumbling, “you are not marrying Lucien.”

“Alastor, perhaps?”

You clutched onto Eris’s arm, the heat providing you some relief. You nuzzle your head into his bicep, and he blows out a hot breath, “if I die, and you are unable to continue alone, marry outside of my family, leave my brothers out of your marriage pool.”

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off.

“Not Azriel.”

You huff, “well if I can’t have a Vanserra or Azriel, I’ll stay alone forever.”

“I prefer that alternative.”

“I will rule Autumn alone. Just as Beron would have liked.”

You spin in his arms, pushing his shoulder down so he’d lay on his back. You crawl on top of him, laying so every inch of you is touching him in some way. Not an inch of space exists between your bodies. You poke his ribs, urging him to start heating up. He ignores you, so you start tugging on the bond between you two.

“Patience is a virtue, don’t they teach that in the war camps they call villages?”

“I’m dying, I think the Mother can forgive my lack of virtues.”

He huffs, but starts warming his skin to better provide comfort. You groan, laying in silence with him for several moments, the heat a comfort to the constant pain.

A few moments later you roll, your back laying across his chest.

“Ah,” you sigh, the pain in your lower back lessening at his touch.

“You’re spinning like game over a campfire.”

He rests his hands on your lower abdomen, the warmth making the stabbing pain into a dull ache.

You sigh at the contact, practically melting at how he soothes your muscles.

“I want to go bathe but that requires movement and leaving this bed.”

Eris laughs into your hair, but you hear the water running in the bathroom. You groan just thinking about how soothing the water would feel on your joints. You breathed out slowly through your nose, preparing yourself for the trek across the room.

You rolled off of Eris, and before you could get off the bed, Eris moved from behind to in front of you, his feet landing softly on the floor.

“Care for a ride?”

You nod, and his arms sweep you up.

“I think this is my preferred method of travel.”

“Perhaps this is how you will tour Autumn, hm? I shall carry you throughout the lands.”

You laugh as he sets you down, helping you remove your clothes. He must be warming the air somehow, because you don’t feel the chill of the air when your clothes are completely off. He helps you into the water, which you melt into immediately. You close your eyes, laying back in the tub, the porcelain a nice surface to lean against.

You’ve completely forgotten about Eris’ presence until you feel him nudge your shoulders forward, his lean body slipping behind you into the tub. His legs stretch besides yours, and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s no way my next husband will be as helpful as you are.”

He breathes out through his nose, “I fear you can only marry down from here. A pity, truly.”

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[sareeen]

Unknown Touches for a Lady

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N never thought she would be married to the spymaster of the Night Court. However, they are undoubtedly married and nothing will save her from the night ahead of her.

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, lovely azriel

Here –> Part 2 Masterlist

A/N: The idea that popped into my head today and I didn't get up until I wrote it. :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Y/N felt the bed sink in beside her and someone, her husband, fold up the edge of the blanket and slip quietly under the duvet.

Y/N felt as if she would suffocate with fear.

Two hours ago, they had gone through the ceremony where she was forced to marry the spymaster of the Night Court in a luxurious setting.

For a purpose, her father said as he adjusted her veil.

It was nothing more than a means to make a deal for the benefit of the Court of Nightmares. More food, more power in exchange for soldiers and a girl.

In fact, her family had eagerly offered her to the High Lord as a prospective bride, and as she was educated and intelligent enough to be chosen over the other women in the Court of Nightmares.

For a long time Y/N did not know to whom she was to be married. She had been raised from a very young age to believe that she was destined to be a wife and mother, but she never thought that it would be him.

But now she was given a chance. A chance to leave that damn evil place and be away from her family.

Today, for the first time in her life, she could see the stars and feel the gentle touch of the breeze on her skin, bringing tears to her eyes. If she was lucky, perhaps her husband would never send her back there. If she obeyed him – though the very thought made her feel sick. All her existence had consisted of nothing but submitting to others. She would have liked to have ruled over herself, but it would always be a dream, now that she was married.

The shadowsinger moved beside her, causing every cell in Y/N to warn her to run.

Well, it's happening, she thought despondently to herself and closed her eyes.

She knew exactly what her duty was. What must happen.

For this marriage to be legitimate, Y/N must give in to her husband and willingly spread her legs.

“I know you don't want to,” he said softly behind her back before gently placing his hand on her hip. Y/N jumped at the sudden touch. “But we have a duty, Y/N.”

She shuddered as the spymaster spoke her name out of his mouth. His voice was soft, but still a warning tone mixed into the words. She had no doubt that he was not often contradicted and may the Great Mother have mercy on whoever tried.

Y/N licked her lips and let out a shaky sigh, then nodded. Trembling, she turned onto her back and it took her a few seconds to gather her courage and look at her husband.

Azriel watched her silently, his figure illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains. Y/N could see his broad shoulder, the swelling muscles in his arm, and even the dark outline of his tattoo in the dim light.

Y/N could feel the golden brown eyes watching her warily as they scrutinized her. She was surprised to find that the shadowsinger did not return her stare for a moment and kept his gaze on her face the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting for her to make a move.

Maybe he was waiting for her to initiate.

Y/N's mouth went dry at the thought that he might have wanted her to. However, she had been raised to do what others wanted, so with all her presence of mind she slowly touched her palm to Azriel's chest. She felt warm, silky skin and felt a steady heartbeat beneath her hand as she slid it a little further away. She heard the Illyrian take a deep breath and the scarred finger she had put the gold ring on a few hours ago gently stroked the cool back of her hand.

Y/N was so startled for a moment that she forgot to breathe. Never had she imagined that the dreaded shadowsinger could be so gentle as he was now.

Perhaps behind the scars and shadows there was not a monster, but a feeling being.

A tiny germ of hope began to blossom in Y/N and she continued to caress him a little more boldly. Her hand glided down Azriel's muscular arm and Y/N was startled to find herself enjoying it.

The way the steely muscles tighten under her touch, the heat radiating from his body as if beaming up at her, inviting her to slide closer and enjoy it.

Azriel, as if hearing her thoughts, took hold of her waist and gently pulled her towards him until their chests touched.

Y/N's nightgown was so thin that the spymaster could easily feel that her nipples were hard and straining against his chest.

Azriel groaned, barely audible, and something inside Y/N stirred at the sound.

Confused, she felt wetness between her legs and some primal longing that she had never experienced before took her. She almost longed for him to return her touch. To have him caress her heated skin. It was so unfamiliar to her, and yet it was as if her body knew how to press herself against him.

Unexpectedly, she felt the hardness against her belly that made her go rigid, but Azriel just squeezed the soft flesh of her hip and didn't let her move away.

“No,” he whispered and buried his face in her hair, his thumb tracing soothing circles around her waist. “Don't be frightened. This is what happens when –“

“I'm not so clueless that I don't know what it is,” Y/N said, blushing. She thanked the Gods for the darkness. “The women explained everything to me before the wedding anyway. That this is what it takes to conceive a marriage and it's the natural reaction of every man when he touches a woman in a loose fitting nightgown.”

Azriel remained silent, but eventually he involuntarily chuckled to himself. Y/N smiled vaguely, but the man's shaking chest and voice filled her with a certain joy. It reassured her.

“Not all men,” Azriel said, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger and tugging it gently. “But you're certainly beautiful and you're wearing very little nightgown.”

“I didn't choose it” Y/N muttered grumpily as she lowered her head to look at the said piece. It was a little translucent and she felt a twinge of anxiety when she first saw that she would have to wear it tonight.

“I thought so,” he muttered. “If it's any comfort I think it looks good on you and I like it very much.”

She had heard rumors of the shadowsinger that he hardly spoke, but they were now lying here and he was obviously talkative.

Y/N finally understood that this was Azriel's way of distracting her and calming the emotions that were raging inside her.

Her fear of the unknown and to make her comfortable with the situation. No one had ever done anything like that for her, not even her mother.

She swallowed hard and, not giving herself time to drift away from the thought, leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. She didn't know how to do this, since tonight she was getting the first kiss of her life from Azriel at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. It was more like a little peck than a kiss.

She understood this when Azriel recovered from his momentary shock and kissed her back. This was different.

The spymaster's hand slid into her hair, his fingers tangled in her ringlets as he gently tilted her head into position and everything just got better.

The angle of the kiss changed, deepened much more and something like an excited tremor began in Y/N's belly. The scent of Azriel filled her senses, the cool night mist and cedar balming her soul, her nails involuntarily digging into Azriel's biceps and it was as if he lost all restraint at that small movement.

He rolled Y/N onto her back, then towered over her and kissed her fiercely. His tongue stroked along her lower lip as if asking for admission and she hesitantly opened it and Azriel's tongue immediately made its way to hers. Y/N let her husband guide her and she was almost giddy with pleasure.

She enjoyed the way Azriel's tongue glided over hers, the weight of him pressing her almost uncomfortably into the mattress and the hot hardness between her legs.

The shadowsinger's lips moved to her chin, and Y/N gasped for air as he moved lower and lower, finding a spot in the hollow between her shoulder and neck that made her hip snap away from the bed and involuntarily rub against Azriel.

Heat flooded her face, but she was unable to pull away from him and with long, sensual strokes she wanted more, which he acknowledged with soft moans.

Strong hands now gripped her thighs and Azriel moved lower, then bucked his hips and pushed against her. His pants and Y/N's underwear blocked them, but Azriel touched a space between her legs and moved as she imagined he would when he will be inside her.

She never thought it would be like this. This overwhelming feeling of his body moving over her, which he'd then elicited from her. Sighs erupted from deep within her body and Azriel kissed her as if to absorb the sounds she was making.

“That's it” Azriel gasped as Y/N arched and their hips met. “Just like that, my beauty.”

She groaned at the endearment and watched the wings spread wide on Azriel's back with a glazed look.

The membrane made the room even darker as it blocked out what little light had crept into the room. She wanted to feel the feel of it under her fingers.

“You can touch them,” he whispered, his breathing labored by Y/N's ear. “But only if I can touch you.”

“But you already do” she gasped, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.

Azriel then let go of her thighs and slid between them, then reached down to her panties and pressed the outer curve of his hand to the spot where Y/N's body throbbed and almost burned. Gasping for air, panting, she made sounds that she should have been ashamed of, but her mind was in a fog and she could not contain herself. She would be ashamed later, but for now she could only cling to Azriel's strong shoulder.

“Here, Y/N” Azriel chuckled. “This is where I want to touch you.”

Y/N bit her lip at her husband's lustfuled words and nodded.

“There –“ her throat was tight, she could hardly get the words out. “It's good there.”

“Is it?”

“Yes” she cried softly.

His hand had pulled her underwear aside and was now touching her bare skin, causing Y/N's head to bob to the side and she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her voice.

However, Azriel stopped her hard and gave a disgruntled squeak.

“No, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “I want to hear you.”

His wings fluttered, drawing her attention, and she stretched out her arm. When she touched the taut, silky membrane, Azriel shuddered and rubbed her harder between her legs.

Y/N loved what she was eliciting from her husband, so she repeated the motion and this time touched her fingernail to it a little, letting it gently scratch the inside of the wing.

“Cauldron” Azriel almost gritted his teeth in pleasure and buried his face in her neck. “You drive me crazy.”

Y/N felt the same way. His hand between her legs, his lip now brushing tiny kisses on her neck. It was killing her and she felt like a bowstring being stretched, ready to snap at any moment. Something was building inside her, the warmth in the pit of her belly seemed to be tightening and it was almost unbearable.

Then Azriel slipped a finger into the wetness between her legs and she gasped for air. It was a stinging sensation, but as he curled his finger he hit a good spot in her and she began to moan.

When Azriel gently pulled it out and then slipped back in, she heard that wet squeaking sound and it made her even more excited.

She wanted to touch him too. So much so that she had the courage to slip her hand into Azriel's pants and touch his hardness.

“Y/N” Azriel gasped as he pulled away from the delicate skin of her neck and peered down at her in the darkness.

“Teach me, please” she whispered with heavy lids. “How to touch you so that you feel as I feel now.”

Azriel closed his eyes and laughed softly.

“I already feel like that” he panted, but he helped Y/N and showed her how to take him in her grip. How tightly to squeeze and when he moved his hip to move into her hand, Y/N felt herself die instantly in admiration.

“Honey” Azriel sighed. “I need to be inside you.”

She knew what he meant.

She was a little afraid, because the women had said it would hurt terribly. However, what they had just done with Azriel had never been told that she would feel like this, so she hoped the sex would be different. Just as fantastic as this.

She opened her legs wider, giving him permission to make her his. Azriel immediately pulled her underwear off her and his own pants, then took her in his arms.

He adjusted himself between her legs but stopped and the golden brown eyes almost burned her face.

“This might hurt a little” he whispered to her and stroked her cheek affectionately. “But I'll try to do it as slowly and gently as possible.”

“It's fine, Azriel” she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and that's when she felt him shiver slightly too. Well, he was nervous too. “I'm used to the pain.”

Azriel froze, then sank down on top of her, so that their naked bodies were touching.

“From now on, no one will ever hurt you again,” he growled, his voice hard and purposeful.

Then he entered her, very slowly and Y/N gasped. She tensed in pain and whimpered and Azriel took her head in both hands and kissed her.

Finally when she thought she would pass out, she felt she couldn't take it. They lay there for a long time, but Azriel pushed forward and forward and then stopped.

Y/N sighed shakily and when her pain turned into a dull throbbing, he moved.

It was awfully strange the way Azriel moved inside her. It was unfamiliar, but after a while it got better and she gasped and clung to Azriel as if he would hold her and not let her fall over the precipice.

Emboldened, he thrust his hips faster and harder toward her and pulled her toward him with one hand, making them both gasp for air.

“Gods” Y/N broke from Azriel's lips and she groaned. Somehow the man moved in a different way and it drove her mad. “There!”

As if born to pleasure his wife, he repeated the motion again and his hand slid to her breast. He took one of her nipples between his fingers, then leaned in and licked it, whereupon Y/N clamped herself around her husband's member and moaned.

“Come for me, honey.”

His finger slid to her clit and rubbed it, which triggered something inside her.

Lights exploded behind her eyelids, her insides clenched and an animalistic moan tore from her. The heat was overwhelming her and she was sure it was over, she would die here and now, but Gods - if it is death she will be glad to go with it.

Azriel's hips slammed hard against her and she felt something warm flood over her and he shuddered. She wrapped her arms around him as if to protect him and their sweaty foreheads touched as they panted with the sensations that overwhelmed them.

Y/N opened her eyes and studied Azriel's face in the dim light. His handsome face was now relaxed and a small smile lurked at the corner of his mouth, his long black lashes casting shadows across his cheek. Her breath caught as she opened his eyes and his golden brown gaze locked on her.

There was an air of kindness and contentment that was evident in the way his hand stroked gently down her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and pulled out of her, careful not to hurt her. The sheet was a little bloody, but neither of them cared.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered and turned to face him as he lay down next to her. Azriel covered them with the blanket and took her hand. “It didn't hurt that much.”

He smiled and kissed her hand.

“It won't after this.”

“Will it be after this?” asked Y/N shyly but hopefully.

“There will be a lot after this.”

Y/N almost burst with joy. Maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all.

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (royal wedding)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen (+Aemond Targaryen?)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: aegon is jealous

- Next part: honeymoon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

- A/N: The last part was skipping from present to past. I forgot to mention that. It has been fixed now.

The grand hall of the Red Keep has never looked so splendid. Golden tapestries hang from the walls, catching the light from the myriad of candles that bathe the room in a warm, shimmering glow. The floors are strewn with rich red and gold carpets, their colors a perfect match for the union taking place today—a union that has the blood of the dragon and the wealth of the lion entwined.

Your wedding to King Aegon II is nothing short of a spectacle. All of the nobility of Westeros is in attendance, their finery dazzling, but none more so than the families of the bride and groom. The Hightowers and the Lannisters are well represented, their seats in the front rows filled with dignified faces that watch every movement with keen interest.

At the head of it all stands Aegon, his usually unruly silver hair smoothed back for the occasion, though he still carries that familiar smirk as if he's already thinking about the revelry that will follow. He’s dressed in a regal black and red ensemble that reflects his Targaryen heritage, but with touches of gold embroidery—no doubt a nod to your Lannister lineage. As you approach down the aisle, his eyes are fixed solely on you, and his smirk softens into something more genuine, more admiring.

You, in turn, glide down the aisle with all the grace expected of a Lannister bride. Your gown is a masterpiece, shimmering gold and crimson silk, with intricate embroidery that mimics the flames of dragons and the roaring lions of your house. The entire court seems to hold its breath as you make your way toward Aegon, your steps light and confident, a smile playing at your lips.

Behind you, your uncles, the infamous Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, follow with their usual contrasting expressions. Tyland, ever the composed and political one, watches the proceedings with an air of satisfaction, knowing how well this match bodes for the Lannister name. Jason, on the other hand, appears more relaxed, casting admiring glances around the hall and clearly enjoying the pomp and grandeur of it all. He leans over to Tyland at one point, whispering something, likely a comment on the opulence of the Red Keep, which Tyland responds to with a curt nod, his face impassive.

At the altar, Dowager Queen Alicent stands beside Otto Hightower, her father, both of them watching the ceremony with varying degrees of restraint. Alicent’s expression is one of controlled politeness, though there’s a tightness around her eyes that betrays her discomfort. She still hasn’t entirely warmed to the idea of her beloved son marrying someone who so effortlessly draws his attention away from her. Otto, however, seems entirely pleased, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if mentally counting the alliances being forged today.

Aemond stands beside his brother, his face a mask of impassivity, though you know him well enough by now to catch the faint flicker of amusement in his eye. No doubt he finds the spectacle of Aegon getting married as something of an ironic twist, considering how hard Aegon fought to maintain his so-called "freedom." Aemond’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword, as always, a silent reminder of his ever-watchful nature.

Helaena is there too, her dreamy expression focused on something far beyond the festivities, though she smiles softly when you pass her by. She’s dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue, her hair adorned with delicate silver ornaments shaped like butterflies. She murmurs something to herself, perhaps a quiet blessing for your future, though it’s impossible to tell for sure.

As you finally reach Aegon’s side, the High Septon Eustace begins the ceremonial words, his voice echoing through the hall. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, but your focus remains on Aegon, who is staring at you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and barely restrained mischief. His hand, warm and steady, slips into yours as you both face the High Septon, the weight of the crown on your head a constant reminder of the power this union represents.

“Do you, Aegon Targaryen, take Y/N of House Lannister to be your lawful wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the High Septon intones.

Aegon’s grin spreads wide across his face, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do,” he says, his voice rich with confidence, though there’s a playful edge to it that makes it clear he’s already thinking of what comes after the ceremony.

“And do you, Y/N of House Lannister, take Aegon Targaryen to be your lawful husband, to honor and stand beside, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

You meet Aegon’s gaze, the room around you momentarily fading as you reply, “I do.”

The High Septon raises his hands in blessing, proclaiming you husband and wife, and the hall erupts in applause. Aegon, ever the dramatic, doesn’t wait for the formal conclusion before leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your face as if you’re the only person in the room. The kiss is bold, full of the reckless passion Aegon is known for, and the court watches with varying degrees of approval and amusement.

Tyland and Jason exchange glances, Jason stifling a chuckle while Tyland remains impassive, though his eyes gleam with pride. They know the political weight of this match—House Lannister is now further entwined with the crown, and their power has only grown.

Alicent, however, watches the display with barely concealed annoyance, her lips pressed into a tight smile. She claps politely, though there’s a stiffness to her movements, a reminder that, in her mind, no one could ever truly be good enough for her precious son. Otto, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased, his eyes flicking toward Alicent as if to gauge her reaction, though he remains composed.

Aemond watches the kiss with a raised brow, a flicker of bemusement crossing his features. He shifts slightly, as though resisting the urge to roll his eye, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the court stands, applauding as you and Aegon turn to face them, now husband and wife. You can feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders, but you stand tall, regal, with Aegon by your side. The cheers of the courtiers fill the hall, a cacophony of voices celebrating your union, and for a moment, it feels as though you and Aegon have already won over the entire kingdom.

As the feast begins, Jason Lannister raises his goblet in a loud toast. “To King Aegon and his golden bride! May their union bring strength to the realm!” His voice booms across the hall, earning cheers and nods of approval from the Lannisters in attendance.

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity to revel in attention, raises his own goblet and smirks at you. “And may she forever spoil me with her affection, wine, and… other delights.”

The court erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too, casting a glance at Aemond, whose eye twitches in amusement, though he’s quick to hide it behind another sip of wine.

The night is long, filled with feasting, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as alliances are silently solidified with every toast. And as the evening draws on, you and Aegon bask in the glow of your new roles—King and Queen, dragon and lion, forever entwined in the history of Westeros.

The grand feast is in full swing. Laughter echoes off the vaulted ceilings of the Red Keep’s great hall, the clink of goblets and the shuffle of servants bringing more trays of roasted meats, fruits, and breads filling the space. At the high table, you sit next to Aegon, who is already well on his way to being pleasantly drunk. His cheeks are flushed, his laughter a little too loud, and every so often, he leans in to whisper something entirely inappropriate in your ear—something about what he intends to do later, no doubt—but you smile and nod, indulging him.

Across the table, Helaena sits quietly, her dreamy eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight as if it holds secrets only she can see. She picks absentmindedly at her plate, her fingers twirling a piece of bread like it's a delicate piece of embroidery. You catch her eye and smile warmly.

"Helaena," you say softly, leaning toward her, "are you enjoying the feast?"

She blinks, her gaze shifting to you as if coming back to the present from some distant dream. Her lips curve into a small, sweet smile. "It’s beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the butterflies… they’re dancing too close to the fire."

You pause, tilting your head, unsure whether she’s speaking in metaphors or if this is just one of Helaena’s usual cryptic musings. Either way, you smile back. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the butterflies, then.”

She giggles softly, her fingers finally releasing the bread as she takes a sip from her goblet. There’s something endearing about Helaena, her quiet innocence standing in contrast to the rowdy festivities around her. You find her company refreshing—though you’re well aware that others find her eccentric nature unsettling.

As you pour another cup of wine for Aegon, who is now thoroughly engaged in a one-sided conversation with Ser Criston about something involving dragons (though Criston’s blank stare suggests he’s only pretending to listen), you feel a sharp gaze on you. Without even looking, you know it’s Alicent.

You glance up to find her watching you with that familiar tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Her hands are clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate the way you cater to Aegon’s whims, particularly when it involves filling his goblet over and over. But tonight, she says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, sour line as she watches you with silent judgment.

You flash her a smile, sweet as honey, and deliberately pour Aegon’s cup a little fuller than necessary, making sure the wine sloshes right to the rim. He grins up at you with a sloppy, grateful smile, lifting his goblet with an exaggerated flourish.

“Ah, my perfect queen!” Aegon slurs, raising the cup in a toast that sends a bit of wine splashing over the side. “Always knows exactly what I need.”

You pat his hand and nod, biting back a laugh. “Yes, my love. Always.”

Alicent’s expression tightens even further, but she still says nothing, clearly choosing to hold her tongue rather than cause a scene at such a grand occasion. Her frustration, however, is palpable.

With Aegon now thoroughly distracted by his wine and the increasingly nonsensical conversation with Ser Criston, you take the opportunity to slip away for a moment. The noise of the feast dulls slightly as you move toward the quieter end of the hall, where Aemond stands, ever the watchful observer, his gaze scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey. He doesn’t sit—Aemond never seems to relax the way Aegon does. Instead, he stands with a goblet of wine in hand, his tall frame as rigid and poised as ever.

As you approach, he glances at you, his single eye cool but alert, that faint smirk already playing on his lips as if he knows exactly why you’ve come.

“Your husband looks quite… spirited this evening,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze flickers to where Aegon is now halfway through another story, clearly embellishing the details for the benefit of anyone still bothering to listen.

You chuckle, standing beside him, your fingers brushing the stem of your own goblet. “Yes, well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? A wedding and an endless supply of wine—it’s a dangerous combination for Aegon.”

Aemond’s lips twitch with amusement. “Dangerous for him, perhaps. More tiresome for the rest of us.”

You raise your goblet slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “I suppose you’re used to enduring such… tiresome things, aren’t you, Aemond?”

His eye narrows slightly, a knowing glint in it. “I endure what I must. Though some things…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction longer than necessary, “are more tolerable than others.”

You hum in response, your lips curving into a small, playful smile. “How kind of you to say. And here I thought you preferred your solitude over any company.”

Aemond sips his wine, his eye never leaving yours. “Solitude has its merits. But there are certain… exceptions.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, subtle but unmistakable. You glance back toward Aegon, who is now attempting to stand, swaying slightly as he raises his goblet in yet another toast, clearly drunk beyond reason. The sight is both amusing and pitiful, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your new husband. But at the same time, the pull of Aemond’s presence is undeniable, the tension between you two thickening with every passing second.

“And would I be one of those exceptions?” you ask softly, turning your attention back to Aemond. Your tone is light, teasing, but there’s a sharper edge beneath it.

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his gaze darkening as he lowers his goblet. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You already know the answer to that.”

Your heart quickens, but you keep your expression neutral, unwilling to give too much away. This dance between you and Aemond has been ongoing for some time—never spoken of directly, never acted upon, but always there, clawing just beneath the surface. And tonight, with Aegon too drunk to notice, the tension feels sharper than ever.

Before you can respond, Aegon’s voice cuts through the room, loud and slurred. “Y/N! Where are you, my queen? Come! We must… celebrate!”

You bite back a laugh, casting Aemond a glance that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Duty calls,” you say, stepping away with a sigh.

Aemond’s eye follows you as you move back toward Aegon, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like a silent promise.

[jenicaclarisse]

YUNO GRINBERRYALL

Dating the notorious Yuno!

summary: dating the vice captain of the Golden Dawn is an experience you don’t want to let go.

genre: fluff (obvi) had to get him on here. How can he be so pretty? fanfic + headcanons cause I spoil all of you

A/N: I’m still an active member of the BC fandom and I’m thinking of making this a series. Please send requests of characters you want me to do!

;not proofread (💨)

———

Yuno isn’t the type to actively seek relationships, mostly just the type of person to reply and talk to somebody when first approached. And or somebody paired him up for a mission. So taking an interest in something other than being the best of the flock is new territory.

Getting to know him is getting to know him entirely. Despite his detached nature, Yuno is actually very open to getting to know you. Already seeing you as a romantic interest despite his goals, ambitions and dreams.

When actively entering the courting stage, Yuno is very competitive. Striving to let you know that you are one of his priorities and doesn’t see this “courting” as a one time thing. Don’t even bother speaking with other guys, Yuno will let you know he is interested.

His behavior changes, his demeanor is different too. It gets to the point his squad notices his absence after being done with a mission and is somehow nowhere to be found.

Klaus and Mimosa are naturally curious. What was he doing? What was he thinking of? Or who?

It’s perfect timing he was back in town.

“Do you think Yuno’s been disappearing lately?” Mimosa asks, walking with Klaus in the hall. She looks up at Klaus who was comically adjusting his glasses and posture.

“Yuno is responsible! We don’t need to worry! I think we should mind our own business!” Klaus shouts as he looks back at Mimosa who clearly knows better.

“You’re curious too.”

“..I’m not.”

Klaus continues to deny but is inevitably shut down. Mimosa has seen through anyway as he adjusts his glasses again with a resounding cough.

-

“Where do you think he went?” Klaus nervously asks, both he and Mimosa hiding behind a wall. Yuno looks to be waiting for somebody as he decides to indulge himself in some bread.

“Do you think we should even be spying? He’s a good man I assure you. Do you honestly think he’s being suspicious? Why do you-“

“Shhh shush!”

Mimosa puts a finger on her lip, effectively shutting Klaus up as he grumbles.

They continue to wait until they heard a voice. A magic knight from another squad! A girl…

“Yuno!” You happily greet him as you hugged him. Yuno is quick to reciprocate, patting your head as you let go of him. Yuno is seen with a soft smile as well.

“WHat!” Klaus’ voice breaks.

“Shhhh!”

Mimosa is quick to shut him up, but this time she puts a hand on his mouth to shut him up. Maybe she should’ve done the spying with a different partner.

“…They’re on a date.” Klaus surmises. After an hour pf following You and Yuno around town, he had made his conclusions. Klaus and Mimosa obnoxiously disguised themselves with accessories to prevent being recognized. Seeing the both of you holding hands and buying street food was convincing enough.

“Obviously!” Mimosa replies, holding a pair of binoculars as she continues to zoom on the both of you.

“Ahhm” You feed Yuno a piece of your crepe as he leaned down to eat his share. He goes back to his position as he hummed.

“Yummy.” Yuno wipes a piece of whipped cream from the corner of his lip.

Klaus is appalled!

Pointing and looking back to both of you, then mimosa, and again.

“Will you please calm down?” Mimosa exasperates.

“I just find it hard to believe!” Klaus is practically hyperventilating. “I didn’t take Yuno for the type!”

“He’s allowed to date.” She deadpans.

Eventually, the date comes to an end as Yuno walks you back to your headquarters. Dutifully letting you ride on his broom for more convenient travel. And an excuse to hold him (wink wink).

Both You and Yuno get off the broom as you dust yourself off. Yuno is quick to ruffle your hair again. Affectionately smiling at you as you hugged him goodbye.

“I really enjoyed my time.” Yuno tells you as you nodded.

“Thank you. It was really fun.” You smiled back at him and by the lords. You are beautiful.

Yuno gives you forehead kiss goodbye as you waved back at him and begin to enter the headquarters’ gates. Gazing at his back for a few more moments to savor more time to look at him.

You definitely have a story to tell much later.

Yuno stops in his tracks as he deadpans.

“I know you’ve been stalking me.” Yuno lets out a heavy sigh. Somebody flinches from behind a wall as a guilty Mimosa and Klaus makes their appearance. Klaus is adjusts his glasses again and clears his throat.

“We congratulate you!” He obnoxiously bows, as Mimosa scratches the back of her neck in an embarrassed manner.

“Impossible.” Yuno sighs and walked past the both of them.

“We did not think this was your after duties!” Klaus is quick to follow as well as Mimosa who right behind.

“How could you never tell us! We are your friends! Squadmates!” Klaus goes on a full rant. “We are supposed to tell each other everything! Aren’t we closer now?”

Before he gets to shout any further, Yuno was already on his broom and leaving.

“What idiots.”

———

HEADCANONS

When push comes to shove, you were eventually revealed as Yuno’s significant other. Causing an uproar with the people he was close with, particularly a certain sylph and an obnoxious person.

Needless to say Belle wasn’t the most happy. Grabbing and pulling Yuno’s face and hair in protest about getting a girlfriend. Her obvious glares towards and sometimes even stomping her feet.

“This is fairrr!!!” Belle screeches. “I was supposed to be your only love! Not that witch!” She grabs a fistful of Yuno’s cheek as she complained and complained. Glaring at you once again.

“Who even are you?!” She accuses you with a finger as you chuckled. “This isn’t a laughing matter!”

Yuno pushes away with his hand eventually, causing her to quiet down as she settles on his shoulder. She still doesn’t like you, but is afraid of Yuno’s disapproval. So she keeps put. But the jealousy is bleeding.

Meanwhile, Asta is swearing up and down like crazed man as he confront Yuno as they come across each other again.

“You jerk! You weren’t supposed to beat me in that department!” Asta holds his head as he rolled around on the ground. Passerby’s whisper as he whined. A child throwing a tantrum? Yeah. Looks like it.

Yuno merely smirks triumphantly.

“You pretty jerk!” Asta exaggerates. Continuing to get up on Yuno’s face as Yuno smirks, lifting his head up when Asta moves closer. But his screams eventually reside.

“But I’ll be wizard king! I’ll definitely surpass you!” Asta declares.

“No way.” Yuno counters.

“I’ll definitely will!” Asta is dragged off by Noelle. “Do you hear me? I definitely will!!”

Noelle slaps him across the head.

Yuno is genuinely so sweet to you as well. You cannot even deny the fact that he puts in effort to understand you more than he does with others. He makes you feel seen and heard.

And if you are the tempestuous type, he’s definitely the cool that’s gonna make you see reason.

He mostly calms you down with a gust of wind to your face and or he playfully teases you by messing your hair up.

You guys indulge in little challenges! Who gets to the end of the bridge first, who can finish a mission the fastest, or who can unlock a new spell in your grimoire. Let’s be honest, you loss on most of these things.

But Yuno lets you win from time to time, purposely running slower or maybe even challenging you to more activities. But don’t be fooled, it’s just a five second head start before he overpowers you. (Haha)

What he loves about you is that he feels comfortable around you (which is canon btw. His type is somebody who makes him feel comfortable. Which I believe you influenced that)

The fact that he can also participate in a conversation with you and or listen actively to you is his favorite past time.

He loves picnic dates because he gets to view the sky (and you)

He thinks you are the most beautiful woman in clover.

Belle still does not like you (lol) but Yuno is starting to slowly change her mind. But as of now she merely tolerates you.

Yuno absolutely loves food dates. Believe it or not he actually likes to get some scrub himself. As per charmie’s constant food she often gives. But mostly to restore his mana.

He loves trying new things with you. The relationship is rarely boring.

Whenever he’s busy he communicates with you with the communication wand. Often in private as he wonders off from the rest of his team. He definitely uses that communication device to his advantage to keep himself updated with you.

He thinks his fangirls are a pain.

Charmie wasn’t too happy with the news. She fainted with heartbreak but eventually accepted the power of the fates.

In conclusion Yuno’s a great boyfriend

———

reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!

[teamatsumu]

At any given moment, i am thinking about Apex Alpha!Ushijima.

Not just alpha. But apex Alpha.

It’s pretty clear even from a distance that Ushijima is like no other alpha around him. Taller than any of his fellows, undoubtedly broader, he takes up space in a way the others fail to. His face is set in a perpetual blank look. Something in his expression screams ‘watch out’.

He also has an excruciating presence. When he enters a room, the scent of every other alpha pales in comparison. Even before he presented, Ushijima had an aura about him, so no one was surprised when he presented not only as an alpha, but an apex.

Shiratorizawa is proud to have an Apex in their ranks, considering how rare a breed they are. Ushijima is a star pupil, a star athlete. Shiratorizawa’s golden boy. The alphas revere him. They can’t even bring themselves to have a jealous streak when it comes to him. All that exists is envy. And the knowledge that they can never be him.

And the omegas. Oh lord. The omegas throw themselves at his feet. Often figuratively, and sometimes even literally. An apex alpha would be the ideal mate. The very pinnacle of the food chain. Any omega who he ended up with Ushijima would be the luckiest little thing on the planet. What a rare luck it would be, bagging an apex alpha as your mate?

Imagine how the school reels in surprise when Ushijima sets his sights on you.

You are, by no means, special. You are not a prime omega. Your scent, while undoubtedly omega, is light. It is not an omega scent that reels alphas in with how rich it is. Your stature isn’t particularly impressive for an omega either, though it isn’t bad. There is no way to describe it. You are just….. ordinary.

So you are confused as all hell when the king of alphas, an apex, presents you with a delicate bracelet one day. He had always been friendly with you, and you assumed it was just him being kind to the students of Shiratorizawa as part of his makeshift pack. But this, a thin, shiny chain with a single heart-shaped charm, made his intentions clear. This was a courting gift, there was no two ways about it.

You saw the apex alpha smile for the first time when you accepted his gift. And it solidified the fact that you accepted his advances.

Being courted by an apex alpha was also an interesting experience. Different to other alphas. His gifts were extremely personalised, stuff that he knew you needed or would be very useful. He was a man of few words, but his actions were glaring, they seemed to scream his intentions at you loud and clear. His aura and scent were so strong that there wasn’t even any need for him to scent you or your things. Five minutes in his presence meant that everyone would know where you had been for hours afterward. Despite being so physically huge, his touch was gentle and comforting. And slowly, you grew so attached to him that it hurt to be without.

Overtime, you realised that a lot of what ushijima did was not his status but rather just him. He was naturally so firm yet gentle. His gifts being so practical was just how his mind worked. Being a good person and a good leader was not because he was an apex, but because he was….. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It was so easy to love him. And to choose him as your mate. He was truly the ideal. And every second of every day you were grateful that he had chosen you, for whatever reason, to be his omega.

Just the thought of Apex Alpha!Ushijima is so near and dear to me. If anyone can be an Apex, it’s him.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! I said fuck it and did all three. <3 pairing: CHUBBY! Aegon ii Targaryen x WIFE! Reader prompt: After noticing Aegon sneaking out of your chambers at night, you fear he had taken up hold habits. Only they weren't the one's that you were expecting. word count: 1, 000+ words

For a fortnight now it has been going on. You knew this for a fact, you keep count in your head. It was like a schedule or routine of sorts. You’d wake up, reach out for Aegon’s side of the bed, only for it to be empty and cold. At first you had assumed that he had gone to the bathroom or outside onto the balcony for some fresh air. It was the most logical explanation. 

Sometimes he was restless at night. Years of having a horrid sleep schedule, overindulging in wine that made him sick, and all of the secret trips to Flea Bottom in the cover of darkness made it hard for him to sleep. No matter how many times you two had tried to get him on a proper sleep schedule. It just never seemed to work. So this started to make you weary.

He hadn’t gone to brothels or Flea Bottom in two months now. He still drank Arbor red, but not as much as he used to before your marriage. He was getting better. Truly, and you adored how much he was willing to go just to show his devotion to you. But, there was a tiny voice. Just the smallest one in the back of your head that sounded a lot like the gossip in Court.

“You’re not enough. He’s finally lost that ‘Honeymoon High’ for you. He’s gone back to them, to the whores in Flea Bottom. To the taverns and bottles of strongwine.” It whispered.

But, tonight. Tonight, you were going to figure it out. Even if it leads to an answer that you did not like. Why was your husband leaving your bed at night? Where was he going? What was he doing?

And could you get Aemond’s help in getting rid of Aegon’s body should it come down to it?

Narrowing your eyes softly as Aegon walks down the corridor, the paranoid voice in the back of your head whispers into your ear, telling you he was going to see some mistress. He did not change nor look like he was leaving the Red Keep, still dressed in his night clothes and barefoot. So why else was he leaving your chambers? Clearly there was something or someone more important than you. This was not a mix of jealousy! Not in the slightest! No. No. Well, maybe a little. 

Waiting until he was far enough away, you slowly tip-toed after him, a thin robe wrapped around you to hide your chemise. You would get answers. One way or another. Furrowing your brows in confusion as he turns left to the where the kitchen’s are, you follow, confused. Okay, mayhaps you were being a tad dramatic. But, still, why was he going to the kitchens?

“Mayhaps he is visiting that pretty new servant girl, the one from the Reach. With her pretty golden hair and disgustingly pretty face that looked like one from a painting.” The voice in your head whispers.

Walking down the steps to the kitchen, you stop at the doorway, instantly flushing a bright pink as embarrassment fills you. Instead of finding Aegon embracing some girl. He was embracing a pastry and chalice of wine. Letting out a soft laugh of disbelief, you wish the ground would swallow you whole and never spit you out. 

He wasn’t cheating. He was gorging on food and wine. You truly were a fool to let stupid courtly gossip influence your mind. Hearing the sound of your shocked laughter, Aegon turns to look at you, eyes wide and full of horror. Shaking your head softly, his cheeks were stuffed full with the pastry he had just inhaled like air, the sugary custard smeared on his lips. 

“It is not what it looks like.” He blurts out, looking like a spooked animal. 

“Oh?” You raise a brow, “So, you're gorging yourself on sweets, right now? This is all a dream of mine?”

He pauses for a good second, almost as if he was contemplating on what to say next.

“Yes..?” He asks, unsure.

“I…I do not know whether to scold you, laugh at the ridiculousness of this, or go back to bed.” You breathe out, pinching the tip of your nose. 

“Can I get a kiss if you are going back to bed?” He asks, innocently. 

Oh, sweet seven hells. He was the most lovable and irritating man you had ever met. 

Struggling to hold any grudge against him for his sneaking around, you walk over to him, shaking your head with a chuckle of disbelief and amusement. The both of you probably looked like fools. You all disheveled and dressed only in a chemise and robe. Him, chubby cheeks smeared with custard, dressed in a tunic and loose pants. It was all so stupid. 

“I love you..?” He mumbles unsure. 

“I love you too, Aegon. I..I just..” You let out a chuckle of disbelief. 

“What? Tis’ not anything bad, just eating a few sweets.” He argues innocently. 

“For a fortnight now, you’ve snuck out of our bed, making my mind spiral to the worse.” You point to the plate in front of him, “For this?”

“Yes.” He nods, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand. 

Standing in front of him with a soft smile, you tenderly clean the last of the custard on the corner of his lips with your thumb. A tab bit grateful that it was only just his sweet tooth that had kept leading him away from your bed than some other woman. You didn’t know what you would do if it had been that. Staring back at you with a confused look on his face, he doesn’t pull back from the affection, leaning into your touch. A mix of confusion and a lovesick glimmer in his eyes. 

“What? Did I truly worry you?” He asks, “Tis’ just sweets.”

“A bit. But, the way you snuck out. Tis’ just, well, you..” You stop yourself, not daring to mention his past out loud. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. That was a bad idea. Why did you have to say that?

“I know what you're referring to. I..I have just found myself trading in old habits for something more..” He rambles on, “Pleasant.”

“I rather you tell me of this, than keep it a secret.”

“I did not wish to wake you.” He whispers, “Tis’ shameful to have awakened you and tell you that I wish to eat at such an hour.”

Stroking his chin with your thumb, you pull away from him for a moment, turning to the plate of sugary tarts and custard fill rolls. Hearing him grumble as you pull away, you playfully bump your hip against your own, cracking a smile at him. Sitting down on one of the counters, he scoots closer to you, his chubby body practically engulfing you as soon as you are in arm’s reach. 

“Now, what have you been eating, hm? Tell me all of it.” You tease, picking up a tart from the plate.

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you