#enjoy this delicious chapter

[fqntasies]

Prize - Feyd Rautha x Reader

Summary: The Na-Baron is set to fight in the arena once more; yet his opponent's reveal is a shock to you and perhaps the other Harkonnen as well. Upon his impending victory, your husband claims you as his prize, ravenous, of course.

Disclaimer: connected to my other fics of feyd. I dont write my stories as chapters, but rather time-jumps to various moments in the reader & feyd's story (considering that I write you both as connected through dreams since childhood, betrothed, etc.)

Word Count: 1,988

This was to be the second fight you would witness of the Na-Baron's, a momentous celebratory event that filled arena's and sparked a sense of frenzy among the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. The first you had witnessed took place just months before your wedding ceremony; in part a testimony of the Na-Baron's prowess and strength, a claim perhaps to your hand, if you were to view it as such. The spectacle had left you breathless then, and you were certain this time such a reaction would be warranted as well. If nothing else, the racing of your heart and the thunderous chorus of the crowds stood attest to it. They were like beasts among the stands, delirious for their prince, and loyal to their homeworld above all else, chants in the air.

This particular occasion already felt separate. Opponents were typically drugged enemy houses or military prisoners let loose in the triangular space, as was custom. But not today. You had seen odd glances among the servants, and even whispers from other members of the Harkonnen house along passing corridors. Something had been changed in the lineup. But what? Had a prisoner been injured? Escaped before the fight? When you look to your handmaidens, they give nothing away but reassuring nods, pale skulls angling towards where the battle will commence after but a moment.

You could not deduce; instead aware of the light breeze that clips at the base of your neck, and the blinding light that reigns above. It casts sharp shadows over your party, jutting from the edge of the alcove's decorative ceiling.

You stand from your seat to walk the few paces to the edge of the balcony, the dark silk of your gown sliding across your thighs like rivets of water. It is just a few paces, but you feel as though you have stepped into a new world as the sun lathes you in it's blanket of heat. You press your palms against the stone that greets you, and eyes turn down, fixed at the doors to the far north of the arena. The ring on your finger sparkles brilliantly in the day, and for a moment, the roars around you are deafening.

Then, silence... and there he is.

You see that pale visage stark against the darkness behind him, hands gripping twin blades, and you are rapt with attention. Feyd's shoulders heave with his heavy breaths, armor only enhancing his form. You knew if you were to stand up close, his eyes would be endless black pools, ravenous for the blood that was to spill before him, striking against the milky softness of his skin. He was his own animal. Foreignly alien, and yet yours all the same. Husband.

You blush as his eyes find yours abruptly, and he stalks from the entryway, steps bringing him towards you in the sand, even as he is leagues below. Your mind drifts to just hours before, where the Na-Baron had caged you among ebony blankets in your shared chambers, leaving no escape from the broadness of him in the cool of the morning. Ghosts of his tongue and mouth have you heaving a breath; licking your lips as though parched. You knew you would dream of him again tonight, even as his arms would trap you like a vice in the safety of sleep. It thrilled and frightened you alike.

Feyd lifts his blade in oath above his head, like a promise to the heavens, and you nod in reply as that sharp edge glints in the light. This blood he spills for you. Always for you. As he would for any who dared to come between.

When he turns, he rolls his shoulders languidly with a tilt of his head. Ready to strike. And you shift to look towards the very same gates he had come through moments ago. That's when you pause - a breath catching in surprise.

The harpies - you were sure of it; their angled forms were roped about each other, a strangling mess of light limbs as they were dragged by burly guards towards the center of the sands. An offering before their dark prince. Proposed like some strange kind of sacrificial lamb.

Suddenly you knew - this was what had made everyone so surprised.

Feyd has turned again, his face now determined, set. You can see it in the sharpness of his jaw, like he vibrates with a new kind of rage. It's his declaration of his love. He will destroy the things that sought to destroy them and their bond; greedy creatures who cared not for the destiny set before their master. Only seeking flesh and carnal sustenance.

At one point, members of the Harkonnen house had thought to leash the Na-Baron with the harpy creatures; perhaps thinking such temptations could control him, avenues orchestrated by the Baron himself, or Rabban, though you assumed the former. But they had failed to see the lengths to which Feyd was devoted to you, had never known the dreams you both had shared since before your very meeting.

This was what he offered to you. Power and promise. Heady in the air, and ripe with opportunity.

---

When they were lifeless upon the sands, you meet your husband's gaze again. There is red painting his body like stars in the milkyway; and a gash covers his chest where one of the harpies had caught him in her claws. He sways a bit, almost drunkenly; and a bloodied grin paints handsome features as he picks up a pace towards you, black cloak carrying behind him like a billowing shadow. You know where he is headed, as his form disappears beneath. It sets your heart to a stampede, goosebumps prickling along the flesh of your arms, and you are swift to dart from the cover of your ladies.

He hunts you, a hulking form somewhere below, closer and closer.

You envision the Na-Baron stalking through the main doors as you flit between sunlight and shadows, a rasp low in his chest as he parts his lips to taste the air, bloodlust and craving. A needy hunger. It makes your legs feel unstable as you blindly chase between archways, imagining the ghost of your prince behind you at your neck. Would he grab you, you wonder...? Would such hands that had slaughtered moments ago trap you now? The horror. The wonder. Your fingers grasp fistfuls of your gown, bare feet pressing against the cool of the marble under your padded steps.

You huddle swiftly behind a wall to catch your breath, angling your jaw to listen as you puff air in and out of your lungs.

"I know your here, princess."

You startle in silence, running cold - gosh - that voice. It was a weak point for you, Feyd had learned swiftly (as had you). A dangerous piece of knowledge, used more often than not as a way to keep you in your shared bed, wanton and delirious as he sought you out. You knew he carried a dare in his words now. Try to run, little rabbit. Try and see.

You want him to catch you, you think. Though perhaps not yet. Your mind fights for what to do - envisions him around you, and you battle the fog of your machinations in a fleeting moment - dashing towards a new hall at the opposite side of the room.

His laugh is low and drawn out as you fly from him, turning into a growl. You are nearly through a new door when he has you - twisting your fighting form and pulling you with him into the unfamiliar space, strong fingers gripping at your waist.

Then he is claiming your mouth with his, pulling you down with him and into his lap, arms trapping you like you were meant to be there - precisely so - all tongue and taste; the two of you stumbling against a wall. You moan - preen against him, fitting to his hold like a puzzle piece that was perfectly matched.

The slide of his tongue on yours is wet and heavy - and in the haze of kisses you see his eyes heavy lidded, watching, following a growl and the nip of his black teeth. It has you sighing again, mewling like some wanton thing, and the silk of your skirts are gripped in his hand at your hip, which cranes to push you against him. The other angles your neck, tipping your mouth deeper into his, and you think for a moment there is no where else you could go. No where quite like this where you belong so completely. His touch is so warm, and broad - iron too, you are aware that even if you attempted a form of escape, he would have you again in an instant.

"- My prince."

His eyes flash at your breathy words. You two had danced this game before - pretending it was your first meeting, feigning some kind of unaware strangers scenario, though you were both well aware of the visions that plagued each other's sleep for years.

He couldn't ignore the calling of your soul even if he tried.

"My lady." He sounds debauched as he cranes to attach a hot mouth to the spot below your ear, and you arch further into him, brows knitting together at the sensation; fighting for control. You make that sound again - the gentle whine that makes his eyes nearly roll back in his skull, and he chases it with another lathe of his tongue, and a warning rumble in his chest.

Don't tempt me - he taunts.

You have half a mind to mark him the same.

"You're not leaving this time, sweet one. I still haven't even gotten your name." His words proceed a suck at your bottom lip, and you angle to taste him in the fog that covers your mind. You almost don't understand the words in your haze; but the smile you taste in his kisses brings you back, and you pull away enough to face him, lips detaching from his own with a wet gleam.

"But my lord - you know I am engaged." the rumble he makes is another warning, hips against your own as his hands hold you there.

"Then I shall cut him down like all the rest." There is a pride and a jealousy that glimmers in the Na-Baron's eyes, even in this pretend world the two of you have crafted, and it takes you a moment to snap out of your heady admiration of him, chasing after his tongue with your own as you lean back in. Heads turn this way, and that, the heat of your breaths and the wetness of your kisses filling the silence of the space you've chosen.

Feyd groans - followed by a gentle tilt of your head, and his lips are by your ear, his hand in your hair, a commanding hold - though you know he'd never hurt you.

"I quite think you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you, little one?" You pant softly in response, only able to suffice a delicate nod in his embrace, overcome with your desire for him. And that's all he needs to hear, sliding his tongue against yours once more before he's hoisting you in his arms, the fabric of your dress bundling by his hold, baring the soft tenderness of your thighs. It has the muscles in his neck craning with a ragged groan, eyes trailing to meet yours with barely restrained tension. A man at his breaking point.

His swift strides have you clinging tightly to him, nose against his neck, pressed just under his ear. The wafting aroma of his cologne and the sweat and blood of the arena are filling your senses. You know he brings you to your chambers; the grip of his hands and the speed of his steps tell you as much; it makes you taste your lip between your teeth, pressing just so against him.

His prize.

[guardianlioness]

For those wondering about my deeply violent descent into Kn8, the series is, essentially, Shonen Genre Pacific Rim Fanfic with:

A Shonen Protagonist in his early 30s who is also a monster shapeshifter

Intergenerational friendships that are presented in a positive and interesting light

A different exploration of the “drifting with a Kaiju” subplot

Very, very little fanservice from the women in the cast and (at time of writing), no focus on romance

Strong undertones of mutual kindness and camaraderie

A villain with really strange motivations

It oozes sincerity and does not try to mock or deconstruct either its source material or its genre. It’s a deeply earnest rework of the ideas presented in Del Toro’s original film with a heavy Shonen flair and less mecha.

In short, it feels like it was custom-written for me.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

”find the key. Stop Leo.”

KXBSNFBSJXBNDBCNDB THIS CHAPTER HAS ME SCREAMING.

I CANT GET ENOUGH OF IT!!!!

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[beetlethebug]

Chapters: 4/6 Fandom: ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Chilchuck Tims/Laios Touden, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Chilchuck Tims & Touden Party Members, Chilchuck Tims & Laios Touden Characters: Chilchuck Tims, Laios Touden, Touden Party Members, Chilchuck Tims' Daughters Additional Tags: Nightmares, Dreams and Nightmares, 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, touch starved Chilchuck, but he's bad at accepting it, Minor Character Death, in that chil has nightmares of his daughters dying (repeatedly), purring half-foots, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Description, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, ask to tag, Chilchuck Tims-centric, title from Animal by AURORA, chilchuck? allowing himself to be emotionally vulnerable?, more likely than you think, Implied/Referenced Disordered Eating, Praise, author knowns nothing about lockpicking and therefore is making it up, time is a weird soup in the dungeon, Combat, Monsters, Blindfolds, Sensory Deprivation, Electrocution, Mentions of being boiled alive?, Food and Hunger Imagery, Blood, Hallucinations, Crying, Self-Loathing, Self-Esteem Issues, Bathing/Washing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hands, the healing power of touch lol, Emotional Repression, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Discussions of Suicide, laios' oral fixation makes an appearance even here, Self-Mutilation, Self-Harm, Body Horror, Body Dysphoria, autocannibalism, self cannibalism? Chilchuck eats his heart in a nightmare in ch. 3, Torture, Flesh carving, graphic depictions of mental illness, Canon Divergent, Being Hunted/Chased, Nightmare involving being hunted/chased, Wolves, Discussions of Cannibalism, Smoking, Implied/Referenced Child Exploitation Summary:

"Please," Laios begs; his voice catches, and Chilchuck raises a brow at him, that warmth settling into something impossibly warmer. Almost heady, if he were in the space to recognize it. "I wanna help. Please, Chil."

Or, five times Laios helps Chilchuck recover from a nightmare, and one time he has a pleasant dream.

guess who’s back in the building besties. happy fucking pride chilaios nation i’m here with my offering (it’s angst sorry)

[outism-had-a-purpose]

Okay finally read the transcripts of Magic Hellbus and oh..... Ishy dear.......

[heavenly-delusions]

ive finished the manga a few days ago ady but i cant stop thinking about this.. cuz its almost something my gay friend would send in our discord server to piss me off whenever i remind him i dont read yaoi or any bl content anymore

[pokidragon]

I’m reading dungeon meshi/delicious in dungeon and I think Laius would love the video game I’m making where you are a farmer growing man eating plants XD

The whole core game play loop is finding new and more and more dangerous plants to raise/grow XD he’d enjoy it XD

[bronzefuryfic]

Thinking about Aegon's attitude towards Helaena in Ch. 10:

"What?" Aegon asked, glaring at them. "She was my sister first."

and how loaded "she was my sister first" is.

In that it is both a reclamation of the fact that despite their betrothal they are siblings first and foremost and Aegon holds that part more dearly than either Aemond or Rhae realize. And in addition to being upset that his relationship with Rhae is threatened, his betrothal threatens to reframe his relationship with Helaena as it exists now.

But also "she was my sister first" is an assertion of the fact that Aegon has known Helaena the longest, she was his sister before Aemond was even conceived, and Aegon is jealous of the notion that Helaena is closer with Aemond. He's angry with both Rhae and Aemond for not recognizing that he does care about Helaena. And that's his own fault, because Aegon likes to act aloof.

But it's not true. They do talk. But about what? Hm...

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I almost killed your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich]- Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After the unexpected encounter with Soap and Ghost, your shop finally owns the vibes of peace.

The customers become so ‘normal’, almost feels like you aren’t in the same area as before – if you ignore the blood on their shirts or recall the memory of seeing them punching someone across the street. You assume the men must tell them to behave in your shop, but you must say the minions become a bit overreacting. They call you ma'am, chat as quietly as possible, and one of them even apologizes when he accidentally touches your finger as if you will chop off his pinky. You start doubting if they view you as a secret henchman of 141.

It’s morning now, the shop usually has more people at this time, but you haven’t had a single customer since you opened it 30 minutes ago, they just vanished without any hint, hence you start testing out new recipes for your bread.

Lilting the song that’s fully out of tune, you slice the bread you just baked into pieces, and throw one into your mouth. Perfectly crunchy outside, fluffy like clouds inside. Oh my, you’re such a genius.

You’re totally unaware of your visitor until he stirs the air with a cough and his voice.

“Pardon me?” He calls you again, but you’re left in a trance when you land your eyes on him.

Damn, he looks just like your imagination of the man in the Dilf next door fic you just read yesterday on co5. Your eyes travel from his well-trim beard, south to his belted waist. Why does a man with a toned body – which his khaki coat can’t even hide –  have such a tiny waist? Your mouth's agape at the sight as you’re about to respond.

“mmsadjsmm” The man raises his eyebrow in confusion, and you hear your voice not forming a proper sentence too. Ah, you forgot the bread’s still stuffed in your mouth.

“ehemm, Sorry Sir, I mean what would you like to have?” Quickly swallow the bread and try to pretend you didn’t just dumbfounded in front of him, you speak again.

“English breakfast, please.” He croons with an infatuating smile as he saunters to take a seat. 

His voice is quite soothing, you admit in your mind as you start brewing said man’s tea, just like you presumed the Dilf in the fic… okay, you really should clear those nasty brainrots during work.

The tea is nicely served in the tea cup and brought to the man shortly after.

You can’t help the smile crawling onto your face when you see him grin at you after a sip. You love watching your customer enjoy your tea, and he obviously relaxes with it have you bask in your achievements.

“Don’t finish your breakfast?”

“Just trying a new recipe. I want to add it to my menu.” you reply with a shake of your head, and after a brief halt, you add a question “ Have you eaten breakfast yet, Sir”

“Call me John, love.” The man – John sets his cup on the table before continuing “And no, I haven’t”

“Then… would you like to have a grilled cheese sandwich? I can’t finish the bread myself, it would be great if someone could help me with it... Of course, it isn’t a must!" You hurriedly complement when John widens his eyes slightly at your suggestion, but he meets your eyes with interest within.

”I would love to.”

You beam up as you get the affirmation, and walk behind your counter again.

Slices of bread are already prepared. The pro tip for a delicious grilled cheese sandwich is giving the bread some nice seasoning first, so you pick up your black pepper jar before inquiring about John’s preference.

“How much pepper would you like, John?”

“Would be great if it’s more.”

“Alright.”

You turn back to season the bread, but when you pick up the pepper jar and about to shake it, a question slips into your brain making you pause.

How much is “more”?

The man doesn't have time to sit here and wait for you to contemplate the philosophy of seasoning, so after biting your bottom lip and thinking for 30 seconds, you shake the jar. More is better, you recall what John told you as your hand keeps moving.

You shake it 10 times, since more is better.

Apart from the bread, you hold full confidence in your grilled cheese sandwich. Placing generous amounts of cheese in between, the coveted smell flooded your little shop as you plate the well-toasted sandwich.

“It surely smells great.” John praises before diving in.

You hang a big expecting grin until John takes a bite and starts coughing like you will put him into the ER with a sandwich.

“It’s– it’s okay…love…” He tries to comfort you when you apologize abundantly and rush back to your counter to fill him a cup of water. Holy, isn’t more pepper better? Now you're going to send the man to heaven with a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Here’s water!” You go back to John as fast as you can with the cold water in your hand, you’re busy checking out John, who stops coughing madly but cheeks pink with the spices, and you don’t see the leg of the chair sticking out of its usual place.

A pair of arms catch you from slamming onto the floor, but the cup isn’t that lucky as it flies with Newton’s help and clatters on the floor.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You stabilize yourself in John’s support. But wow,  now the man not only just recovered from a fatal attack to his throat, but also has a wet spot spreading along the chest part of his shirt.

“No worries, love. It’s just a shirt.”

Even though John attempts to calm you, you still can’t help the sheepishness creep to your cheeks and stain it with the same pink as John’s, or stop thinking about if the balance in your bank account is able to buy the man a new shirt. You remember you wanted to get some cash out of the cashpoint but it shoved an ‘insufficient funds :(‘ into your face.

You really don’t want any customers to come in right now, even if it means your little tea shop will close down because you only have one from the start of today, but fate always gifts you things you crave when you don’t need them.

“Sorry boss, I’m late.”

You look at the tan-skinned man standing like a model just escaped from his manager, staring at you shoving a towel on John’s chest and both of your cheeks smeared with suspicious red.

“What happened?”

I almost murdered your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich. Apparently, you can’t answer with this, so you face John for help.

and he’s looking at you too, with a sly smirk awaiting your explanation.

You wonder if you can just make two sandwiches to shut these men up, with one more for yourself to end this predicament now.

a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!

No John Price is harmed in this chapter.

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143

[necessiteez]

HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

everything listed will be only hongjoong x reader (fem/male/gn) pairing and it will contain suggestive/smut themes. if it includes another member, I will also indicate it. fics will be categorized into aus so it will be easy to find.

I won't be including mtls, bullet lists, and other members' fics. if you are looking for recs with different members I'm sure other atinys have posted their own lists. These are all personal favorites and I'll only be including tropes/aus that I'm comfortable with (there won't be a/b/o, master kink, hybrid aus etc. sorry).

lastly, please let the writers know if you love their works so we can enjoy more of their content. have fun reading!

1. First Floor

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬 you are here ໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

1.5 Secret Room

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

2. Second Floor

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

2.5 Banned Books

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬 ???????? ໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

3. Third Floor

⚠︎UNDER CONSTRUCTION⚠︎

✶ - favorites

╔══ first♕floor ══╗

「 ✦ Vampire!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Honey and Blood - @nateezfics (wc 8.6k)

In the Night feat. Seonghwa - @ja3hwa (wc 2.53k)

✶ People, Running poly, multi-chapter- themoonlightfae on ao3 (wc 50k+)

Sweet Trouble feat. Wooyoung - Atiny_DazzlingLight on ao3 (wc 6.2k)

vampire! hongjoong - @xuchiya

✶ Delicious feat. Seonghwa - @jagibangbangchan (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Friends with Benefits!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ I Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way - @severetimetravelnerd (wc 9k+)

Leave Me With Nothing - @min-gis (wc 5.7k)

✶ Mine feat. Seonghwa - @smileysuh (wc 3.4k)

Naked Truth - @essenteez (wc 6.1k)

Late Night Rendezvous PART 1 - @sanjoongie (wc 1k)

Nightclub Affair PART 2 - sanjoongie (wc 3k)

Voicemail - TgemstoneT on ao3 (wc 3.4k)

「 ✦ Sugar Daddy!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Wetting Your Lips - @k-hotchoisan

Avaritia - @hwaightme (wc 8.3k)

Baby Said feat. Seonghwa - @destiny-fics

Taken - @hwanchaesong (wc 8k)

Never Too Much - @iwannasuckyourmonstercock

「 ✦ Incubus/Demon!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Say My Name - twinmoles on ao3 (wc 7.6k)

Incubus! Hongjoong - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

The King chapter from a series- @destiny-fics

The Library of Illusions - Restricted Section finale of a series - @kwanisms (wc 9.6k)

✶ Jealousy, Jealousy - destiny-fics

The King's Games series - @hanatiny

Their Pretty Pet feat. San, Seonghwa- @written-in-flowers (wc 7k)

The King of Rot chapter from a series - pearlypearlypearl on ao3 (wc 8k)

Demon Line feat. San, Seonghwa - HalaHollow on ao3 (wc 4.7k)

Day 1 - @ocean-ai (wc 2.8k)

✶ Wings and Thorns - @kitten4sannie (wc 3.4k)

Hotel California part 7 poly,multi-chapter - mint-yooxgi (wc 9.9k)

✶ Paradise Gardens part 15 (Hotel California 2nd volume) - mint-yooxgi (wc 23k)

Inferno - pyeonghongrie (wc 1.6k)

Fallen Angel feat. Yeosang- darkmulti

Devil Eyes part 1 - @hwashotcheeto (wc 2.3k)

Devil Eyes part 2 - hwashotcheeto (wc 1.8k)

All Hands on Me - k-hotchoisan

「 ✦ Hongjoong at the Studio ✦ 」

includes: Producer! Hongjoong, Idol! Hongjoong

✶ Sharing is Caring feat. Mingi - @byuntrash101 (wc 5.2k)

0:126am At His Studio - @sanflowerseeds

✶ Audio Angel - @marigold-doms

Make You Feel Better - @hongthoven (wc 3.2k)

Studio Sessions feat. Jongho - Atiny_DazzlingLight on ao3 (wc 5k)

To Make an Album - @bambikisss

✶ Make You Cry for Me (When I Put My Lips on You) - wonuha on ao3 (wc 5.7k)

Studio Time feat. Mingi - @yuta-senpai (wc 1.9k)

✶ Public/Recorded Sex feat. Wooyoung - @hongism (wc 4k)

Fragile - @ilwonuu

Attention feat. Seonghwa - @beginningofwonderland

22:48 - @beatteez

Two's Better Than One feat. Mingi - @ateezscupid

After Hours - nateezfics (wc 500)

「 ✦ Soft!Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes: Soft Dom! Hongjoong, Service Top! Hongjoong, Needy! Hongjoong, lots and lots and lots of praise my favorite

Morning Haze - nateezfics (wc 1.4k)

✶ All Mine - hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

✶ Oxygen - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 820)

✶ Addicted - @justaaveragereader (wc 1.8k)

HJ & Shibari - @mia-tiny (wc 729)

Precious - @latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3k)

✶ Pretty Pink - nateezfics (wc 2k)

My Angel - @mirror-juliet

✶ You're My Desire - hongism (wc 1.3k)

Day 17: Body Worship - @ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 1k)

Scream It Louder - atinywooyoung on a03

Keep Me Close - crimsonbubble

Early Mornings - ddeongsami on ao3 (wc 3.3k)

✶ Good Morning Captain - iguessireadfanficnow on a03 (wc 2k)

✶ Sleep Better - @tinyidle (wc 2k)

Need You - @luvryeo (wc 500)

✶ Untitled drabble- @atinycafe (wc 900)

Stay - atinycafe (wc 1.2k)

Be Hongjoong's cockslut - k-hotchoisan

Take It Easy gn!reader- ocean-ai (wc 700)

✶ Through It All feat. Mingi - @felixsramen

Glad You Came - @frenchkisstheabyss (wc 1.8k)

A Hazy Evening gn!, high sex- cheollipop (wc 1.8k)

Untitled drabble - byuntrash101

* First Time

Philoselene - @ncteez

Untitled drabble - k-hotchoisan

✶ First Time - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 2k)

「 ✦ Non-Human!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Here Were Fairies fairy!hongoong - pearlypearlypearl on ao3 (wc 10k)

Ugly Dragon dragon!hongjoong- @thelargefrye (wc 2k)

✶ Shells mermaid!hongjoong - @last-words-ofashootingstar (multi-chapter)

Something Sinister feat. Seonghwa- @hansols-yoda-boxers (wc 5.2k)

Day 3: Mirror Sex Grim Reaper!Hongjoong - sanjoongie (wc 1.8k)

Project Omen dragon!Hongjoong feat. Wooyoung- @atzfilm (wc 40k)

Drowning in Pleasure siren!Hongjoong- @twisted-tales-of-all (wc 2.3k)

🆕✨ Gaze of Stone gorgon!Hongjoong - @ilovejeongintoo (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Bad Boy!Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes Goth, Emo, Punk dark aesthetic Hongjoong

✶ Ohmami - bambikisss

Dark Kiss part 1 - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 5k)

Dark Kiss part 2 - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 8.5k)

Ugh, As If - @ennysbookstore (wc 11k)

Ugh, As If bonus 1 - ennysbookstore (wc 5.4k)

Ugh, As If bonus 2 - ennysbookstore (wc 5.5k)

˖ ࣪⭑last updated 07/05/24 ˖ ࣪⭑

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 5

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Part 6

Chapter Summary: You talk to Addison, but may have dug a deeper hole for yourself. Bucky has a chat with you, too.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon phone sex, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, reader is trying to stay calm, needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It never rang that early, minus the occasional call from the shop to see if you could go in early. With a groan, you opened your eyes halfway to glance at the device. You closed them when your vision cleared to read the name.

Bucky.

“Mmm. Too early for that,” you mumbled, rolling over to hug your pillow as the call went to voicemail.

He messaged you after you told him you had plans for the night, but you didn't read it. In fact, you hadn't glanced at your phone for the remainder of the evening after you got ready for bed. You only knew of the messages since your phone kept digging. You went through the rest of your normal routine and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The date took a lot out of you.

Was it a good idea to ignore him though? This was a man used to getting what he wanted and for things to be done his way. There was a chance he wouldn't take you not responding to him well. Well, if he “cared” about you the way he claimed, he’d have to deal with it. Besides, it hadn't even been half a day since you spoke to him.

You bolted upright at the knock on the apartment door. “What the hell?” You whispered, pushing the covers back. Forcing yourself out of bed, you threw on your robe before you went to answer it. Your heart thudded as you looked through the peephole, half expecting to see Bucky on the other side. Your shoulders relaxed when you didn’t see anyone, but you only opened the door a crack.

A familiar scent filled your nostrils as you opened it more. It reminded you of the bakery you liked to visit once a week. Homey, warm, comforting. But your stomach turned when you spotted the bag since you hadn’t ordered anything.

Glancing down each side of the hall to make sure no one was there, you snatched up the bag and locked your door. Your lip wobbled when you looked inside and saw the note on top of the container. It matched the handwriting from the note in your bedroom.

“Most important meal of the day. Enjoy.”

You had half a mind to throw it out, but your grumbling stomach protested. It was your usual when you stopped into that bakery and for good reason since it was delicious. It should’ve been a nice gesture. It should’ve put a smile on your face. But how could it be when Bucky didn’t learn those things about you naturally?

The doorbell rang again as you got to the table, your heart jolting from the sound and the bag dropping to the surface. “Get a grip,” you whispered, going back to the door. Maybe Bucky could send you to a spa so you could try to relax. Not that you would ask him. He wasn’t your boyfriend.

Didn’t matter how rich he was.

You looked through the peephole again, smiling when you saw Addison on the other side. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her caffeine likely kicking in already. “Hey,” you greeted her when you opened the door.

“Hey yourself!” Addison smiled, pulling you in for a hug. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped back and took a good look at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great. Never better,” you tried to smile, stepping aside so she could go in. Guilt crept in from not being honest with a simple question. You weren't great at all. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early, that’s all," you replied, double checking the lock on the door.

“I thought I’d swing by to check on you before I went to work. I didn't hear from you after I texted you and you’re usually really great about texting me back, so I wasn't sure if you were upset that we had to reschedule our plans or if something else was going on.” She paused when your face fell. You were so busy ignoring Bucky that you forgot to reply to her. “Maybe upset isn’t the right word, but bummed? I know we haven’t had much girl time lately outside of my wedding stuff.”

“I'm so sorry. I’m not upset. Last night just got away from me,” you assured her. “Bummed, I’ll give you that.” You added teasingly.

“Are you sure? I feel bad for bailing.”

“Please, don't,” you said. She had no reason to feel bad. “You get to go to The Terrace tonight, which is amazing. I don’t blame you at all for rescheduling.”

Brady was not only a nice guy and a hard worker, but he practically worshiped the ground Addison walked on. He would spoil her rotten if he could. He just wanted to make her happy and she wanted the same for him. It was the kind of relationship you admired.

Addison nudged you with a smile. “Have I told you how awesome you are? And right? I couldn’t believe it when Brady told me. It’s The Terrace!”

“You two will have a great time.” You said, leading her to the table so you didn't have to linger by the door. They deserved a nice night out. “Okay, I’m being nosy, but did he happen to say how he got the reservation? I mean, they’re usually pretty booked.”

“So, listen to this,” she began as she sat down. She had your full attention. “His new boss pulled him into his office yesterday and told him what a great job he’s been doing. Gave him a bonus and everything for all his hard work and said to celebrate by taking me out for dinner at a place of his choosing. He said ‘The Terrace’ thinking there’s no possible way, right?”

“Right,” You said, taking the food out of the bag and being careful to not let her see the note. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I ate before I left, but that looks amazing,” she said before she continued. “Two phone calls later, there was a table booked for us! I think he was a little embarrassed when he told me since someone else technically pulled some strings for him, but I don’t care. He works his ass off and it’s about time it was recognized.”

“I agree,” you said, replaying the words in your mind. “Wait, did you say new boss?”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Kind of surprised Brady since his old boss still had a year or so left, but he took early retirement. And the new boss takes his job pretty seriously, but seems like a good guy from what I’ve heard.”

You swallowed heavily. “What… What’s his name? The new boss?”

Addison’s brows furrowed as you picked at the food. “I think his name is Nick. Why?”

Your next breath was much easier. Bucky was making you paranoid in all aspects of life. “No reason. I just think that’s really nice of him,” you smiled.

Your friend didn’t look convinced for a moment. “You sounded and looked really weird when you asked.”

“Just hungry. You know how I get,” you said, forcing yourself to take a bite.

She raised an eyebrow before she shrugged. “At least you don’t get hangry like Dana,” she teased. “But yes! It was nice of him. It’s a great way to support employees.” Her eyes lit up before she smacked the table. “Ooh! I should ask if he’s single.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that, please,” you begged. The last thing you needed to deal with was pulling an innocent man into whatever was going on with you and Bucky.

“Why not? We need to find you a man and he’s good looking. Or you know what? I think one of the groomsmen might also be single now. Maybe we could set you up with him?”

“No, Addison,” you said, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you when she had no idea what had transpired in your life over the last couple of days.

Your friend sank back in her chair, her previous excitement gone. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you said, putting another bite of food into your mouth in the hopes that you’d keep more words from tumbling out. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled up, but a powerful man had threatened her. Your best friend.

“Oh, yeah? Then give me a good reason why I shouldn’t set you up with someone. Just one,” she challenged.

“Okay, fine.” Bucky’s face shimmered in your mind as you said, “It isn't set in stone, but I may have a date for the wedding. Maybe.”

You shifted in your seat, wishing you didn’t say that. It was the only thing that could possibly stop Addison from setting you up with someone else. Pulling anyone else into whatever game Bucky was playing wasn’t a smart move. Not until you could figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Addison's eyes went wide as she sat up and swatted at your arm. “Oh, my God! You’re asking about The Terrace when you buried the lead?! No wonder you’ve been off this morning! Tell me everything!”

“There isn't much to tell really, but…” Your heart sank as your friend literally moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and happiness. “He's handsome. Successful. Headstrong. Likes to read in his spare time. And for some reason, he really seems to like me.”

“Ahh! This is amazing. You're really growing out of your shell. I'm so proud of you.” Addison nearly knocked you out of your chair when she launched at you and hugged you tight. “And what do you mean he likes you ‘for some reason’? You’re a fucking goddess, okay? Say it. Say ‘I’m a fucking goddess’.”

“You’re a fucking goddess,” you joked, giggling when she hugged you tighter. “Okay, okay. I’m a fucking goddess. Let me breathe, please.”

“Yeah, you are.” She pulled back to take a seat again, a wide smile still on her face. “This is amazing news. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Well, I'm sure everyone will love him,” you said. And you had no doubt they would. Something told you he would be the perfect charmer, telling everyone what they wanted to hear and showing them what they wanted to see. As well as being a doting boyfriend.

“If you like him then he must be great.”

“Yeah,” you said. You probably would’ve liked Bucky if things played out differently. “And you're sure he can go? I understand if he can't and I'm sure he would, too, since the wedding is just around the corner and it’s still so new.”

“Of course, he can go. Everyone is going to be thrilled.” She took one of your hands when you looked in your lap. You didn’t want to look up in case tears sprang to your eyes. “Hey. You’ve been the bridesmaid long enough. It’s about time you meet someone who finally makes you the bride.”

Tears filled your eyes anyway, but you blinked them away. If Bucky had his way, you’d be his bride soon enough. “Listen. Addison-”

“Shit, I gotta go before I’m late. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her bag as she stood up and gave you one last hug. She was in such a hurry that she thankfully didn’t catch your misty gaze. It was better that way. “Text me, okay? We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“And I won’t say anything to the rest of the girls until you do,” she promised, rushing to the door. “Seriously, so happy for you!”

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” you called after her. “Have fun tonight!”

“I will! Love you!”

The door shut, leaving you alone and in silence. You placed your head on the table with a groan. You were an idiot. No, that was cruel to think about yourself. You just felt cornered and reacted accordingly. And now you had to bring Bucky to the wedding, which was what he wanted.

What have I gotten myself into?

You lifted your head after a minute to finish your breakfast. As much as you wanted to lay about all day, you had to be productive. Plus you had to look at your phone eventually. You wondered how many more times Bucky messaged you. You also wondered if there were any stories or articles about him online.

Would snooping make things better or worse?

Making sure your front door was locked, you finally went to retrieve your phone. Stretching out on your bed, you picked up the phone and swiped until you got to Bucky’s messages. You scrolled through to the last one you sent, when you told him you had plans.

“You have plans? They really want to meet you.”

“I can still bring the dress over if you want. Just in case.”

“Already thinking about our second date. I want to make it special. I never want to stop wooing you.”

“Sweet dreams. Wish you were here so I could hold you.”

Your heart sank as you kept reading them, the words blurring together on the screen.

“Having a hard time sleeping since you haven’t answered me. I hope you're okay.”

“Maybe I should get you a new phone.”

“Ignoring me, Kotyonok? Playing hard to get?”

The last message came through a minute ago.

“Should I just come over and check on you?”

Your heart jumped to your throat as you typed out a message. What were the chances of him showing up if you didn’t respond? It was better not to risk it. You had ignored him enough. “Sorry, Bucky. I’m not glued to my phone and I crashed last night after our date. Thanks for sending breakfast over. That was a surprise.”

It wasn’t the end of the conversation, of course. “It’s okay. Just worries me when I don’t hear from you.” As if he had the right to worry about you when he caused you worry to begin with. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You went to set your phone down, but saw more dots on the screen. “You sure I can’t see you tonight? The guys are really eager to meet you. I want you to meet them, too.”

Reading that made your stomach roll. Would they be like Ray? Complicit? “I told you I have plans. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.”

Another message popped up almost immediately. “Which one do you like better?”

Two images of Bucky appeared after the text. He stood with confidence in front of a sleek sink that you could only assume was in his bathroom. The pictures were nearly identical, minus the fact that the first image had him in a dark green jacket and the second had him in blue. But that wasn’t what made your next breath shaky.

He stared right into the mirror, the lens capturing his gaze so that it penetrated the screen. He seemed to be looking right at you. Unflinching. Unwavering.

Your fingers shook as you typed back to him. “The blue. It brings out your eyes.”

Your phone rang a second later. Now he was calling. You let it ring for a bit longer before you answered. “Hello?”

“Morning, Kotyonok.” He purred on the other end. “Hope I'm not bothering you. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Morning.” When has a man ever called just to hear you speak? “Not sure why you need to hear it. I don’t think my voice is nice to listen to,” you said.

He chuckled. “You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” Your cheeks flamed. He knew how to lay it on thick. “You’re right about the jacket. The blue is the better choice. And it’ll be a lot easier to get your opinion once we’re living together.”

You shut your eyes and counted to three. “So, you’re still convinced I’m going to live with you?”

“Before the end of the month. My promise to you.”

“We’ll see,” you said, blaming your lack of wit on your lack of caffeine.

There was some shuffling in the background that you could only make out since you went quiet. “Excited to meet my friends tonight?”

“I’m not meeting them tonight. I told you more than once that I have plans,” you reiterated. You weren't budging on that, even if all you’d do was curl up with a book. He didn't have to know.

He chuckled again, like he knew a secret you didn't. “That’s right. You did tell me that.” It was strange that he didn't ask what your plans were. “Are you ready for the day? Or are you still not dressed?”

Your eyes flickered around the room. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t see you. It was fine. “I still need to shower and get ready,” you said.

He hummed. “The shower here is nice. You’ll love the tub here, too. Has plenty of room for both of us.”

“Bucky-”

“It’s perfect for me to fuck you in it.” His voice was rougher and you thought you heard him incorrectly. “I dreamt about that last night. Bouncing you up and down on my cock as your cries filled the room, the water splashing around us. Sounded so fucking pretty.”

Your mouth fell open when you heard more shuffling. And moaning. A deep, hungry moan. “What are you…” Was he… Was he touching himself as he spoke to you? Jerking off? No. He couldn’t be. “Bucky, I’m-”

“I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, Kotyonok,” he rasped, his breathing heavier. So was yours. “Say it.”

You bit your tongue. You didn’t want to say it or hear any of this. It was filthy. Wrong. But you obeyed anyway. “Bucky,” you whispered.

The next sound he let out was something you could only describe as pornographic. “I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.” You rubbed your thighs together and ignored the heat in your body. It was a natural reaction. Fear. It had to be. “Talk to me. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“I…” Your eyes squeezed shut, your chest lightly heaving. Dread gripped you and you didn’t know what to say. “I can’t.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined that, too. Telling me you can’t take my cock. That it’s too big. Too much.” He panted and something told you to keep listening instead of hanging up on him. “You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

You covered your mouth, afraid of whatever sound would come out as his heavy breathing persisted in your ear. You could almost imagine him pinning you down with his weight, taking you apart. Making you say his name. Spilling inside you as he said yours.

Bucky said he wasn't a monster. That he wouldn't hurt you. But what was he going to do to you?

“Fuck, you’ll look so gorgeous when I…” Bucky trailed off, all sounds of pleasure on his end coming to a halt. “For fuck’s sake, what?! What is so fucking important right now?!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, your heart pounding. You thought you heard Ray in the background, but couldn’t be sure. “I-I should probably go,” you said, grateful for the interruption.

“I understand, Ray. Just give me a fucking second.” Bucky exhaled before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to go, but I have to.”

His tone was much gentler since it was directed back at you. “So do I. I need to shower,” you said. To wash off whatever just transpired even though he didn't touch you.

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.” You heard the smile in his voice and fought the urge to get sick. “Have a good day, okay? We’ll finish this later. I promise.”

You tossed your phone away and sat up, your hands gripping the sheets as you inhaled and exhaled. Did that really just happen? One-sided phone sex or whatever the hell it was? The sounds of his moans rang in your ears. Thankfully the heat was no longer spreading through your body.

This wasn't your fault.

But you could’ve yelled for him to stop. You could’ve hung up. You didn’t do either of those things. Could've, would've, should've.

Where was your fire?

“It’s fine,” you whispered, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I’m fine. This is all going to be fine.”

You refused to be anything other than fine. And he wasn’t at your place, so you were safe and sound, right? You had to be.

Lying to yourself didn't make you feel any better. It didn’t stop you from rushing to the toilet when you dry heaved. And it didn't stop you from wondering when he’d finish what he started over the phone.

Bucky continues to leave an impression, doesn't he? And he's convinced you're going to see his friends, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yopossum]

JOEL SAT ON ME AND I CONSIDERED IT AN HONOR AND A PRIVILEGE

My contribution for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits On You challenge is complete!!

Main Masterlist

Married!Joel x wife reader - M - 18+ only, weight gain talk and appreciation, drunkenness, Joel is a big ol love bug who wants to squish his perfect wife (you)

Snug

You were curled up in your old green tufted armchair, had just finished a chapter of your book, and were debating making another cup of tea when the tell-tale squeak of the front steps accompanied by heavy footsteps and drunken muttering alerted you to your husband’s return.

“Mmm, gotta… fix… ‘s not safe… gonna… gonna get hurt… not my baby…. Ah shit… where’s my…. ‘S still unlocked?”

With an aggressive jiggle of the knob, Joel came crashing into the house, stumbling over the toes of his boots and looking up bashfully.

“Hey handsome,” you smirked. “Have fun with Tommy?”

“Not ‘s much fun as I have with my beautiful wife,” he slurred, pointing a wobbling finger your direction. “Thas you, baby.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Joel,” you laughed. “You two had a bit to drink, it sounds like.” You set your book down on the coffee table alongside your empty mug and stretched your arms up to the ceiling, yawning.

“Jus’ a few, darlin’. Missed you too much, had to come home t’ ya. Need t’ see you. Alllllllll the time. Thas how much I wanna look atcha.” The booze stretched his twang out, slowed his speech, words sloshing and swinging from his lazy tongue like it was a porch rocker on a hot summer day. It wasn’t often Joel let himself relax, and it was a treat when he got loose like this.

God, you adored him.

“You hungry, babe?” you asked your bumbling hunk. “I left you a plate in the microwave in case all you two had was whiskey and peanuts.”

Joel groaned appreciatively. “Fuuuck, honey. How d’ya always know jus’ what I need? What’d I ever do t’ deserve you, hm? Funny, so damn smart, so kind, you’re gorgeous. Smell good. Perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

“Go get your dinner, Romeo,” you cut him off with a snort. With an over-the-top wink, Joel sauntered into the kitchen. You watched him go with a grin, admiring (honestly, ogling) the delicious way his jeans hugged him and the flex of his broad back under the snug green plaid shirt he favored.

A few years in, and marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all a happier person. The only drawback, to him, seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Regular meals, fewer hours out at the job site, more time spent enjoying life’s small pleasures. Add in plain old aging, and some body changes were inevitable. God knows you’d had plenty of them yourself.

You knew Joel was a little sensitive about his pants fitting a bit tighter, the buttons of his ancient flannels straining slightly more than they used to over the swell of his belly. But where these changes made Joel frown at his reflection when he caught himself in the mirror before a shower, or sigh when he had to punch a new hole in his single belt, they had no negative effect on you whatsoever.

To your husband’s surprise, you were ravenous for his softening body. Your hands often found their way to his pockets to palm his plump ass through the denim, to the hem of his shirt to stroke the round warm underside of his stomach, to pat and squeeze his thick thighs. When he came inside you each night (and most mornings) and tried to hover over himself your body to kiss you after finishing, you often yanked him down on top of you, relishing the crushing weight of your husband enveloping your form like the world’s sexiest, most affectionate weighted blanket.

You couldn’t get enough of him, so having more Joel to love? A blessing. And when he loped back into the living room, his plate heaped with the dinner you’d made earlier, wearing a smile wide and dopey, you were happy that the most hardworking, self-sacrificing man you’d ever known entrusted you with his comfort.

He plopped onto the sofa, a little harder than he probably meant to, and sat his plate on the end of the coffee table nearest to you.

“Looks so good, sugar, you’re amazin’. Fuckin’ girl of my dreams. And you *married me*! Wow. Wowwwww.” The tips of Joel’s ears and the rounds of his cheeks were peony pink, his eyes glassy with both drink and adoration. He took a forkful of the pasta and vegetables from his plate and opened his mouth around it with a moan. “Baby, mmmmfff, Jesus,” he mumbled through chews, eyes closing in ecstasy as he ate.

“Sober Joel is going to be mortified when I tell him about Drunk Joel’s table manners,” you snickered. You unfolded your legs and reached a foot towards the couch, poking at him in the side with your pointed toes.

“Naw,” he said with a dramatic shake of his head, swallowing his bite. You couldn’t help but track the way his Adam’s apple slid along his tan, taut throat, and despite his hazy state, he clocked it immediately. “Y’aren’t gonna tell that asshole anythin’. Jus’ our little secret, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, tongue poking into the corner to catch a spot of sauce that lingered in his mustache. “I’ll make it worth your while, promise this Joel knows ‘xactly whatcha like,” he hummed, eyes gleaming and dimple pitting deep in his rosy cheek.

“I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re drunk, Miller, if that’s what you’re getting at.” You cackled when he scowled, sticking out his lower lip in a nearly-irresistible pout.

“But what if I want to real bad, Miller?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I’ll letcha have your way with me any damn day, honey, please. I’m achin’ for ya.” His eyebrows curled up in a pitiful plea, his big brown sad puppy dog eyes in full force.

You leaned forward in your chair, planting your feet on the ground. “I’ll have my way with you when you’re not plastered, I swear.” Joel dropped his head in disappointment, whining.

“Jus’ love you so much…” he murmured at the floor. “Wanna show you… take such good care ‘a me, make me feel so good… best wife of every wife, give me the best life…”

Your heart was full to burst. “Come here, you big sentimental sap,” you said, sitting back and opening your arms to your pathetically endearing enormous drunken husband.

Rather than walk, Joel slid from the couch cushions to the floor with a thud and proceeded to crawl on his hands and knees across the rug, stopping at your feet and looking up at you sheepishly through long dark lashes.

You gestured to your lap. “Up.”

Joel clambered from the ground, dropping himself solidly into the cradle of your body (eliciting a breathy OOF as he knocked the wind from your lungs) and curling up like a pillbug against your chest. The chair creaked in fruitless protest. You struggled to catch your breath and adjust your legs underneath him, but managed to encourage his head into the crook of your neck so you could nuzzle into his soft silvered curls, press kisses to the lines across his forehead. Your arms didn’t fit all the way around him, but you snuck them in at his waist and ran your thumbs back and forth along the meat of his hips.

Joel burrowed his face into the space above your collarbone, nudging his nose up against your throat and humming softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the dip there. “Thas’ real nice. Love you s‘much,” he buzzed into your warm skin. Your ribs couldn’t quite expand enough to take your regular breaths without effort, and numbness was prickling your thighs and asscheeks, but you made no effort to move.

“‘M not hurtin’ you, honey, am I?” Joel’s quiet voice was already honeying over with the pull of slumber. His breath slowed and evened, inching its way toward soft snores.

“Not at all, sleepyhead,” you assured him, whispering warmly into the smooth shell of his ear, giving it a gentle nibble before laying your cheek against the top of his head. “You’re perfect.”

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 4.9k+

Warnings: fluff & Angst! English isn’t my first language<3

A/n: hello beauties!! Here’s the 2nd chap of our summer romance!!! A bit of a build up and messy Aemy because why not? The next chapters will be longer but this one no and I’m so sorry I was dealing with a writer’s block this week but I managed to get this one out!!! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated<3

Taglist: if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please fill this form with your username!!

Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 2: under the Weirwood tree

“Aemond!” 

Aegon bangs on the library door like a fucking toddler, making Aemond sigh and groan as he continues to slam his fist on the wooden door.

“What?” He says with a jab in his tone, his fingers toying with the edge of the page he was reading a few seconds ago, “Open the fucking door already, or you’ll break it down, idiot.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to your older brother,” Aegon kisses his teeth as he pushes the door open, an unbelievably large smile on his face. He strides towards Aemond’s desk with a mug of black coffee in his hand, walking with a skip in his steps, “especially now that you will spend your summer with us! How lovely—“

“Shut up already and give me my coffee,” Aemond grumbles, reaching for the mug but Aegon pulls it back, keeping it out of his reach.

“Tsk, tsk, absolutely not!” Aegon says, faking a frown as he looks at his younger brother, “You’re being so rude for someone who wears glasses with one prosthetic eye—“

“For fuck sake,” Aemond groans, grabbing the glasses before he takes them off, pinching the bridge of his nose, “why must you always be so insufferable?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Aegon shrugs, plopping down on the seat in front of Aemond’s desk, “it’s my responsibility to make sure you are entertained and not bored to death with these—“ he scrunches his face as he fiddles with his younger brother’s book, “what the fuck is this? Are you reading a history book in High Valyrian? You’re insane.”

“When was the last time you read a book?” Aemond looks at his older brother with a smug expression, “At least between the two of us someone is using his brain.”

“No wonder Alys left you—“

They both freeze, not a single sound can be heard in the room as Aegon very very slowly looks at Aemond, gulping when he sees his younger brother’s good eye glaring daggers at him.

“Shit—I’m, fucking shit, I’m so so sorry—“ he tries to get up and hug Aemond but all he receives is being pushed back on his seat with a defeated sigh from the younger Targaryen.

“Don’t talk for a moment, I want to enjoy my coffee in silence,” Aemond shakes his head before he brings the hot mug to his lips, taking a gentle sip from it, “did you make this?” He asks, his good eye wide and surprised as he looks at Aegon.

“No, why?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispers as he takes a huge gulp from the coffee, humming as the hot steaming liquid hits his tongue, “you could never make a cup of coffee like this.”

“You have Hel’s bestie to thank for that,” Aegon shrugs, “besides, I hate coffee, can never understand how you drink this stuff.”

“Of course, only horrible cocktails can keep you on your toes,” Aemond scoffs, finishing his coffee with a hum of pleasure, fighting back a smile when he hears you have made his coffee, “how did she know how I like my coffee?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Aegon leans back, his eyes never leaving Aemond, “how are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” Aemond asks, confused and surprised by his brother’s question.

Their relationship is… quite complicated. They love each other, but at the same time, they want to strangle and knock the breath out of the other’s lungs. They wish to be able to have civil conversations, but in Aemond’s head, Aegon always says something that makes him see red.

“We haven’t talked much ever since… you know,” Aegon sighs, running a hand through his tangled hair, “I understand though, not that I understand it as if I have experienced it or ever for that, I’ll probably never do because I mean who would want to leave someone like me—“

“I get it,” Aemond raises his hand to stop his brother, “you try to be sympathetic, I appreciate that, but you suck at it,” he says, standing up to put the book back in its place, waking Vhagar up with a few head scratches before he makes his way toward the door, Aegon following behind.

“Yeah, not my thing,” Aegon shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts, walking side by side with his brother, entering the buzzing kitchen together, “well, good morning ladies and you kid!” Daeron fakes a cry when Aegon pats his back roughly, making him choke on his tea.

“Leave him alone,” Hel announces, walking towards the kitchen island with two big plates filled with waffles and ice cream, “he’s had a rough night.”

“Why?” Aemond asks before spotting you behind Helaena, walking with a plate of fresh fruits, “hi.”

“Good morning, Lil nerd! How did you sleep last night?” You ask him, giving him a quick hug, sitting on your chair next to him, “Hopefully not stuck in the library like the past week?”

“No,” chuckles, taking his seat, “I actually went to bed, I had to put away a few things Alys sent back from the house.”

“Oh, did she contact you?” You ask hesitantly, plopping a small grape into your mouth as Helaena cuts the waffles for everyone, “you don’t have to answer, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” he shakes his head, reaching to take an apple from your plate, “she didn’t contact me, well, she kind of did but it was just a note in the boxes she sent.”

“She’s such a bitch.”

“Helaena!” You laugh out loud, throwing your head back when Aegon says her name in shock — one thing Hel’s family doesn’t know about her is how fiercely protective she is of her loved ones, even if it’s mostly in secret.

“Sister—“

“Sorry, sorry!” She sits down with a soft laugh, “she gets on my nerves, you know? I can’t control it.”

“We know, babe,” you pass her the fruit plate, bringing a bite of waffle to your mouth after you say, “Don’t think about it anymore, we’re trying to get your brother to move on!”

“Yeah!” Aegon tries to join the conversation but soon gets distracted, “damn girl, how can you eat a whole ass plate of berries and grapes this early in the morning?”

“It’s near noon, dumbass,” Daeron scoffs, leaving the kitchen with a hot cup of tea.

“She loves to have fruit for breakfast, especially sweet oranges and tangerines!” Helaena exclaims.

“Not sure when it started but it’s now a part of my morning routine,” you shrug, handing Aemond a few strawberries to put on his waffles, “and what about you? How do you manage to have Gin Tonic with your breakfast?”

“I haven’t had any since I arrived here!” He whines, pouting as he stands up and steals a few grapes from your hand, “fuck off you know my cocktails are the best.”

“I’m not boosting your ego until you give me a good Sex on the beach.”

“Atta girl!” He high-fives you before making his way towards the refrigerator to grab a snack for himself even though he’s had breakfast with you.

“Morning, darlings,” Alicent walks in, her auburn curls moving with each step as she stands between you and Aemond, reaching to pull Aemond in for a half hug with a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Morning, Mum,” he replies, rubbing her forearm with one hand, giving her a rare smile he only gives her and Helaena occasionally.

“How are you? Are you feeling better?” She asks her son, putting her hand lovingly on your shoulder, “I hope you’re settling in nicely.”

“I am, I have you and others to thank for that,” Aemond answers, glancing at you, giving a quick smile before he looks back at his mother, “Well, no thanks to Aegon who’s been up my ass since I came here—“

“I was nothing but nice to you, little shit—“

“Stop—“ Alicent tries to end their banter, but to no one’s surprise, she is not successful.

“Should I thank you for that?” Aemond cranes his neck to look at his older brother whose jaw is on the floor, the sandwich is frozen mid-air close to his lips, “because that’s the least you have done.”

“As if I didn’t help you carry that huge fucking vanity mirror upstairs—“

“You just held one corner of it, you child—“ 

“Stop, just fucking stop!” Alicent yells, making everyone gasp when she swears, “What now?”

“You swore,” Helaena says, grinning at her mother.

“It’s not my first time, I’m not a kid—“

“But you always tell us to mind our language,” Aegon matches Helaena’s grin, walking to stand beside you, “unless…”

“Leave her alone, please,” Aemond stands up and kisses Alicent’s forehead, “she’s been hanging with Criston for far too long, I’m afraid.”

“Hush you!” Alicent slaps his arm playfully, “How have you been, truly? Is there anything me or all of us can do for you?”

“I’m okay, Mum,” he tries to budge, to not let anyone see through the facade he’s been holding up since Alys sent his things to him, or what in particular has been sent, “don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry, darling? You haven’t talked to anyone about it! You are ignoring your grandfather’s calls—“

“I could care fucking less about what he has to say!” His voice booms through the room, shocking everyone to their core.

You had realized how short his temper had become ever since the incident, but to raise his voice at his mother was not something you would see coming. Maybe he is hurting more than anyone — even himself who says it’s okay, it’s alright, I’m fine — ever imagined. 

“I apologize,” and with that he leaves the kitchen, stealing Helaena’s cup of tea on his way as he enters the TV room, finding Daeron wandering through the channels, stopping only when a headline catches his attention.

Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance spotted with a new lover!

Hello and good morning to our lovely audience! I’m Simon Strong and we are here with the newest celebrity gossip of Westeros! It wasn’t long ago when we heard the news of our very infamous couple’s break up, and now, only a month gone, Alys Rivers, Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance was spotted being too friendly with a colleague of hers! 

But that is not the only news we have for you!

A few days ago Miss Rivers had done an interview with our reporter, she said and I quote; “Being with a man who can’t stand up against others who hurt you is a bad choice. I waited and watched him treat me as if I meant nothing to him, and it is something Targaryens are most famous for — their money and huge egos!”

The sound of a loud crash makes Daeron jump, and he sees the hot tea run down Aemond’s wounded hand — he breaks the cup in his fist and drops the remaining on the floor.

“Aemond, shit—“ Daeron jumps over the back of the couch, grabbing Aemond’s hand as he examines his bloodied palm. The cuts aren’t deep but many little open and bleeding wounds cover his skin.

Aemond’s head is foggy, he can’t think or function at that. Alys moving on was something he was ready to deal with, he knew she must have been cheating on him during their relationship, but to say such hurtful words to the press made him question everything.

What was the point of their relationship if all Alys wanted to do was ruin him and his reputation? Surely after being dismissed by his father at the council alongside Aegon, his reputation became nonexistent.

Alys was everything to Aemond, she was his light, the only glimmer of hope in his darkest moments. She was the only person who would curse this world with him and keep him safe in their bubble of joy.

Apparently, it was only Aemond who felt that unconditional love.

With a heavy heart, he pulls his hand out of Daeron’s grasp, and with heavy steps, he walks upstairs to his room, ignoring the calls of his name as he did on his wedding day.

No words have been spoken between Alys and him for the past month, absolutely none, except for the note she sent with that cursed box. To see her being so happy and doing interviews about their relationship makes him see red, but somewhere beneath this blinding rage, Alys’ words poke at his open wounds, having him bleeding from the gaping holes worse than before.

He pushes his bedroom door open, standing in the doorway for a second to gather his thoughts; the thoughts he has been burying deep down so he wouldn’t have to deal with them for a long time.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his fingers shaking with an unknowing fear. He knows everyone must have seen the news, his father, his grandfather, his sister, and her children. 

The humiliation is inevitable now, thanks to his ex, even though he tried his best not to get caught in the whirlwind of the questions the media threw at him. Nothing can be changed now, not his public image, not his personal life, and certainly not how his family perceives him.

He runs his hand over his face, exhaling shakily as he repeats the words he heard on the news; being with a man who can’t stand up against those who hurt you is a bad choice. And all his life, through the years he stayed by her side, she did not need to ask him to stand up for her because he was already beating the guys to the pulp, getting into fights for her, but when it came to him she never reciprocated.

He remembers how he caught her texting one of his father’s employers on his twenty-first birthday, and he was so naive and stupid to let go of it when she said she just wanted to apply for a job to get closer to him, to Aemond, and he so easily believed her honey-coated words.

The sound of his phone ringing brings him out of his thoughts, making him sigh in exhaustion as he reaches into his pocket to pull it out, his grip tightening when he sees his grandfather’s name on the screen. He has probably seen the news and is ready to blame Aemond for the mess like he always does.

“Morning—“

“How could you not see this coming?” Otto’s voice is loud enough for him to distance the phone from his ear, closing his eye as he listens to his grandfather’s yells, “We worked so hard to keep your relationship out of the public eye, but now thanks to your idiocy the world knows about how you treated her!”

“No one knows anything about our relationship,” he replies, his tone cool and collected but he knows deep down he is one single moment away from breaking, “her words are nothing but lies—“

“Lies or not, you threw your reputation away because of a woman who was nothing before meeting you! Now it’s not just you who will pay the price, it’s your family, it’s our company!” Otto says, his words cutting Aemond like a knife being twisted in his ribcage, and what hurts the most about it is that Otto is not wrong.

Aemond introduced Alys to their company, and to his friends, got her a job, and made her famous, hell he even paid for the last year of her law school! He was an idiot for believing she was there for him, but what else could he do? 

He was in love.

“I could care less about Viserys’ appearance and company! She left me, I can’t control what she says, I can’t control what she fucking does!” Aemond yells back, his patience finally being ripped away, “My reputation was shattered the moment you let Viserys’ daughter get her hands on our lives. She set the cameras up when Alys left the church because no one knew when the wedding would take place and you turned a fucking blind eye to it!”

“You need to sort out the mess you created by letting that witch take advantage of your generosity,” Otto groans in annoyance, “not generosity, no, your idiocy, your childishness and immaturity. You were a fucking child when you started seeing her! The scandal we had to cover — when the twenty years old younger son of Viserys Targaryen kissed a twenty-eight years old woman in King’s Landing — spread like fucking fire in Westeros and all our stocks’ worth dropped—“

“My fiance left me!” Aemond’s voice finally breaks when he looks up and sees you entering his room with a worried expression, his eye glistening with tears, “She left me on our wedding day! How cruel can you be? I spent days away from the streets to protect your precious status and reputation, I isolated myself for weeks because I didn’t have the strength to stand up and walk outside! Did you even think about how I felt? Did you, Otto, or all you could care about was Rhaenyra’s next move? How will the world see us now?”

You sit next to him on the bed in silence, and for once, he hate your presence, he hates the way you look at him with worried eyes and open ears, ready to take his pain away, trying to be his friend.

“I do not have time to deal with your childish tantrums, either you will accept that you are ruining this family and help me clear up your mess, or we will have a fucking problem—“

“Listen, Otto, I won’t do anything about this. You’re a fucking asshole for kissing Viserys’ ass for so long that you have forgotten how horribly he is treating us. All you care about is to make him look better, so no, I won’t take responsibility for something I haven’t done!” He hangs up, throwing the phone on the bed before he groans in disbelief, hiding his face in his hands, “what do you want?”

You look at him, confusion is evident on your face as he asks you the question in a very serious tone. He knows he shouldn’t be treating you, out of everyone like this, but at this moment he can’t help but let his anger consume him.

“I thought I should check up on you,” you respond quietly, looking at him with a sympathetic smile, “I saw the news.”

“Who hasn’t,” he scoffs, shaking his in annoyance, looking down at his bruised and bloody hand before he meets your gaze, “that’s very sweet of you.”

“Maybe I can be of help somehow if you tell me what you need—“

“I don’t need help,” he glares at you before huffing out his breath, his nails digging into his wounds as he fists his hand.

“Let me see your hand,” you try to reach out and grab his wrist gently but he pulls back harshly, startling you with his attitude, “Aemond, please—“

“What do you gain from this?” He asks suddenly, “What do you achieve by being nice to me? I don’t get it, you have everything you need; money, friends, a good job, I can’t give you anything.”

“You are my friend, I want to help you because you’re going through something so so hurtful and I don’t wish to see you so upset—“

“Pity,” he chuckles sarcastically, standing up to pace his room, “so you pity me! How very generous of you to come here with an excuse to check up on me while all you feel for me is fucking pity!”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head desperately, standing up to reach and take his hand in yours but he puts a good distance between the two of you, his glare never faltering, “I understand your pain and despair! I’ve been through the same situation. I know how much you must be doubting yourself, how you think all of this is your fault—“

“You have no idea what I’m feeling. You, the self-centered childhood friend of my sister who has seen so little of how I’ve been treated, think you know me,” Aemond raises his voice, his tone cuts deep into your bones and he sees it, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and how you shake your head in disbelief.

“I’ve been there with you all of your life, Little nerd. I watched you grow up, and I don’t pity you because I understand you, and because you’re my friend,” you sniff, wiping the single tear that falls on your cheek, “you should be upset about everything, hell you should be so fucking mad, but to say I pity you? I could never even think about upsetting you, let alone showing some fake sympathy to gain what? I want you to be happy—“

Aemond looks at you for a long minute, his hands balled into fists on his side as he tries to keep his breathing under control, his mind reeling with regret and anger; at himself, at Otto, at everyone but you. And yet, he treated you worse than others.

He leaves you alone in his room, marching downstairs to the library without glancing at anyone, especially Alicent who calls his name pleadingly. Aemond locks himself in there with Vhagar who jogged alongside him to the room, huffing and barking happily while he sits on the couch near the window, letting his tears stream down his cheek.

He doesn’t go out of the room for lunch and isolates himself from the outer world, letting himself get distracted by his books and Vhagar who happily cuddles him with her huge body while he reads.

After a few hours near the sunset, he hears a soft voice telling him that everyone’s going outside to the backyard near the Weirwood tree, spending the nice afternoon outdoors.

He doesn't respond, just grunts, and goes back to reading, even though he knows he should stand up and follow you there, beg for forgiveness, and apologize to you, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Not when he feels so ashamed of how horrible he has treated you.

After much thinking, he decides to get up and take a walk with Vhagar towards where you said you’d be. He grabs Vhagar’s favorite ball and claps for her to follow him. The pair walks outside the house, the fresh evening wind blows over their heads, and Aemond feels he can finally breathe.

Vhagar happily wiggles her tail as he spots the group sitting on the grass with Aegon telling a shitty hilarious story while drinking beer together, sharing a laughter or two. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre, Aegon & Helaena’s Golden Retrievers, are playing together, running and jumping on each other under the sunlight.

He spots you lying on the grass, resting your back on Helaena’s chest while the two of you listen to Aegon and Daeron’s bantering, giggling, and sharing a can of beer — you look so happy, and that makes Aemond stop dead in his tracks, having him second guessing whether he should be approaching you and others after how he talked to you.

“Oi, why are you so late?” Aegon asks, bending down to grab and throw a can of beer at him, “You almost missed the sunset.”

“I didn’t know if I wanted to come and tolerate your stupid jokes,” Aemond catches the beer, throwing Vhagar’s ball for her to catch before his good eye finds yours, but he looks away immediately, too ashamed and disgusted by his earlier behavior to even look at you.

“Ignore him,” Helaena says to her older brother then looks at Aemond, patting the place next to her for him to sit, “Come on, join us.”

“Fine,” he whispers, catching you giving him a small encouraging smile. Vhagar runs back with her ball caught between her teeth, dropping it before she makes herself comfortable on top of you, resting her head on your stomach.

“Hello, my old lady,” you coo at her, scratching behind her ears and back, chuckling at how happily she starts waggling her tail, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“So!” Aegon claps his hand to gain everyone’s attention, “I was talking before our gracious pirate interrupted me—“

“I haven’t used my eyepatch since I moved out,” Aemond grunts, thanking you quietly when handed him your beer so he doesn’t need to open his.

“Whatever, it still doesn’t change the fact that you look like a fucking pirate even with your prosthetic eye!”

“Leave him alone!” Daeron whines, “Please just continue whatever you were telling us.”

“Alright, so…”

Aemond doesn’t listen to what Aegon has to say, his eye trails from Vhagar’s sleepy face to yours, smiling and laughing at Aegon’s story. He can’t bring himself to think about how bad his words must have hurt, especially since he made you cry.

You turn around, meeting his gaze, reaching to grab the beer from his hand, giving him a reassuring smile in return, mouthing a silent ‘later’ so he knows you two will talk and you won’t be left in the dark. 

“Shut up now, wanna watch the sunset without your annoying voice,” Daeron pulls his brother down to sit next to him, their backs resting against the Weirwood tree as everyone looks at the orange and pink hue of the sky, the sun slowly hiding behind the mountains.

“Get up kids, dinner’s on me!” Aegon smacks the back of Daeron’s head playfully, making the youngest Targaryen whine in pain before he also gets up and follows his brother inside the house.

“Order something in case he burns the house down,” you and Helaena get up as well, laughing at what Daeron said. 

“You know what,” you say quietly, unlacing your fingers with Hel, making her turn around and look at you, “I think I’m gonna stay a little more.”

Aemond looks at his sister, nodding at her as she leaves the two of you alone. He watches you turn around and step towards him, sitting on the grass next to him just like you did on his wedding day.

“Hey you,”

“Hey,” he laughs softly, resting his head on the tree as he looks at you, matching your smile, “I’m sorry…”

“I know you are,” you take a deep breath, looking up at the sky, “you are under lots of pressure now, Little nerd, I understand that.”

“Do you forgive me?” He asks, his voice so fragile and little as if he were a child, “because I’d hate to ruin your summer just because of my temper. I’m sorry, I’ll get on my knees and beg you too.”

“You are forgiven,” you laugh softly, “but I meant it when I said that I understand. I wholeheartedly understand how you feel, Aemond, it wasn’t out of pity.”

“I know, shit, I know but I was so pissed at Otto I couldn’t get my emotions under control,” he sighs, “not that any of these are good excuses, and I’m really sorry.”

“Do you remember that time when I wouldn’t come over here at family gatherings? Hel must have told you all about my breakup.”

“Yeah, I remember…” he says, nodding as you continue. 

“It was a rough four months of trying to get my shit together after Jason fucking Lannister stood me up,” you smile bitterly at the memory.

“He did what?” The shock on Aemond’s face only makes you laugh harder, “why didn’t we know about this?”

“Because I told Hel not to say anything,” you shrug, “yeah, you’re not the only one who had the pleasure of being stood up by a jerk. Anyway, we were together for a year, and everything was…hmm not too good but not too bad either. I liked him, maybe loved him even I don’t know I think I saw a future with him and I wanted my parents to meet him. I called him one day, took him out, paid for everything so I could tell him about the dinner my parents were planning.”

“All of this just for him to be a douchebag?” He teases you.

“Oh yeah,” you both laugh, “at first he was so open and lovely about this idea, but then… well the date came my parents and I were all looking around the restaurant all dumb and upset… I was the dumb one because I trusted a Lannister of all people but I liked him so much, and when I received a text from him after two hours of waiting for him, I broke down.”

“What was in the text?” Aemond asks, reaching for your hand, “You don’t have to tell—“

“He said he used me, that was it. Just sex and pleasure for over a year…that was all I meant to him,” you tear up a little, squeezing his hand as the two of you look at each other, “I may not understand your feelings completely because your situation is different, but I get it, I know how you feel to some extent.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that…you deserve someone better than Jason Lannister.”

“You too! You deserve someone much much better than Alys Rivers,” you run your thumb over his knuckles, “when you asked me what I would gain from this friendship… happiness, Aemond. You might not be my best friend but, you’ll always have a friend in me, and I like that we have shared interests, and your little jokes and banters with Aegon make me laugh. I like that, and I’m so sorry if you felt I was pitying you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I should be the one apologizing,” he smiles when you rest your head on his shoulder, juts how he did on his wedding day with you, “I like that too.”

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hey, hun is it possible to do a part 3 of Muzan with reader with big boobs or even do a version with Kokushibo please?🥺

*runs to her laptop so fast she breaks the sound barrier*

Yup!

(I'm just gonna do Muzan for right now- I'm kinda struggling to figure out Koky's character)

NSFW below the cut.

Also, for those who haven't read it, here is PART 1 and PART 2 of the Muzan x boobs saga.

MUZAN x boobs pt 3.

You're not exactly sure when the Infinity Castle became your permanent residence but you never seem to leave anymore.

In the beginning, Muzan would always come to your place for his titty sucking stress relief sessions, but if there's one thing the Demon King truly despises it's minor inconvenience.

So, you're lying on a plush pillow, reading one of his botany books in a cozy room of the castle when the sliding door flies open with so much force it smashes against the wall. Splinters of wood rain down onto the floor.

You don't even flinch. You're used to his tempers by now.

He's back from his trip to Asakusa and grumbling about hanafuda earrings and sun breathers

"Tits. Now."

You pull open your kimono with one hand, not even looking up from your book.

(If you wore bras before you've given up by now; Muzan just shreds them to bits anyway and those bitches are expensive.)

He moves with supernatural speed, and before you can even blink he's taken your place on the pillow and you're sat straddling him.

Then he pulls your upper half down on top of him, completely smothering him with your chest.

You're still engrossed in the book as he slowly licks around your areola, following the path of ridges and bumps before tickling your nipple with the tip of his tongue.

A shiver runs through your body but you keep reading, because you just got up to the chapter about the strange blue flowers which you used to weave into crowns at your grandmother's house when you were little and-

He snatches the book from your hands and tosses it across the room and into the fireplace, emerging from between your breasts to glare at you.

Muzan is just as shocked as you are by his apparent annoyance at your lack of attention. Why should he care if you're enjoying it or not? This is for his satisfaction, not yours... and yet...

He makes it his mission then to make sure you cannot ignore him.

He sucks your tits with such ferocity you feel tingles all the way down your spine and throbbing at your core.

Grips your wrists and pins your hands to the pillow above his head so your tits are hanging in his face; soft and defenceless against his wicked tongue.

He groans as he bends a knee to wedge his thigh between yours, applying such delicious pressure.

Kneads your tits with his slender fingers, trailing his pointed fingernails lightly around the undersides, making goosebumps raise over your skin and eliciting the first whimper.

Yess... he wants more of that.

He chuckles cruelly as he feels you grind against his thigh, his tongue unrelenting as he laps at your aching buds.

While his mouth is occupied, tugging one of your nipples between his lips and making them swell and harden, his fingers work the other; massaging, teasing, tugging until they're so puffy and dark, glistening with his saliva.

On and on it goes, until you're gasping his name amongst curses. Your grinding becomes frantic and arrhythmic, and the sweltering heat of your sex presses through the fabric of his trousers.

You're close... so... damn... close...

Then he lowers his knee, taking away the friction

(this asshole- istg)

He continues licking your nipples as you whine, taking sick satisfaction from the way you so desperately try to hump his hips, craving release.

"Beg me."

Even if you do, he'll keep up this give-and-take until you're a bleating mess.

He doesn't want your breathy "please Muzan, let me cum," he wants you sobbing.

And only when your tears come does he roll you onto your back, wedge his thigh back between yours and permit you to bring yourself release.

"Such a pathetic harlot," he whispers, his voice laced with darkness and desire as he watches you cum. "My pathetic harlot."

Strums his thumbs over your swollen nipples to make your body jolt as you come down from your high.

You lay there, whimpering and exhausted as he lowers his head, nuzzling your chest.

Is he... snuggling?!?

"What the hell happened in Asakusa?" you ask.

He simply closes his eyes and "sleeps" with one hand cupped over your breast, finally a little calmer.