⟢ bf!tamsy who always accommodates for what you lack in height whenever you want to kiss him or touch his face—leaning down without complaint, but only after watching you pout a little first.
“careful now, angel,” he murmurs, “you’ll strain your achilles.”
🀥 bf!tamsy who lightly taps your cheek with his index finger when you zone out, head tilting as his gaze softens.
“…are you paying attention, hm?”
⟢ bf!tamsy who sends you off to missions with a feather-light kiss pressed to your temple, gentle enough to barely linger—while, unbeknownst to you, his tokushin slips an almost impossible-to-notice thread around your finger.
for safety purposes, of course.
🀥 bf!tamsy who, after enough nagging, finally gives in and lets you see the scars spread across his chest, eyes softening despite himself as you trace the jagged edges with the light drag of a fingernail.
⟢ bf!tamsy who takes one look at the tear in your clothes and doesn’t even consider sending you to august. absolutely not. he quietly takes them from your hands, needle already threaded, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow that scatterbrained man lay his fingers on fabric that’s been against your skin.
🀥 bf!tamsy who lets you curl up on his lap without a word, you pepper soft kisses along his cheek, and he waits—patient, indulgent—as they drift closer to his lips. when your bottom lip brushes his labret piercing, it catches just enough to remind you it’s there, cool metal against warmth.
⟢ bf!tamsy who feels the moment you lose focus, fingers coming up to toy with it instead, curiosity overtaking intent. a quiet chuckle slips from him at that, fond, as his finger brushes against your hip.
🀥 bf!tamsy who sings you lullabies when you tell him you feel restless. his slight accent catching onto the tips of his melodized words. the cadence deems itself unfamiliar to your ears, however, it’s hard to care when you drift off within minutes every time.
⟢ bf!tamsy who always makes sure you end up seated beside him in the car whenever enjin ropes team eager into another mission with team akuta. he lets you rest your head against his collarbone—but only on the ride back, when the job is done and you’ve already worked yourself thin doing exactly what was asked of you.
🀥 bf!tamsy who fights the muscles in his face, forcing them into stillness even as a shadow of a grimace threatens to slip through when your weak, fevered body clings to him in desperation. the mission he’s dispatched to is mandatory, but before he leaves, he gathers what little composure he has left and presses a careful kiss into your clammy palm, (despite all the germs he’s sure are wandering the surface).
⟢ bf!tamsy who lets you fuss over his injuries, deliberately steering clear of eishia just so your pretty hands can tend to him instead. he tilts his head, quietly amused, listening to you ramble about him needing to be more careful next time.
“now, now, my dear.. there’s no need to get so worked up.”
🀥 bf!tamsy who lets you braid his long, pretty hair to your heart’s content, patiently allowing you to intertwine his locks into a two-toned braid. he has one condition though, you have to face him while you work, so he can watch the adorable little expression you make when you’re concentrating—his words.
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, established relationship, mean sokka (no hate for him please, i am just a bitch hahah), little arguing (lowkey fight), alcohol consumption, swearing, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)
WC. 5.8k
masterlist : story masterlist
chapter one
a/n: i did not expect the response i got for the first chapter. i am genuinely glad that you all enjoyed it, for which i would also suggest you to please read the a/n at the end!
p.s: do not ask me the layout of katara's house. just know that it's big and like the one we see in the movie, except i have made up everything inside for convenience.
Morning came quickly, and with it, Fire Lord Zuko.
Sokka, Katara, and Toph had come to greet him at the harbor, and while they did think to call Aang, knowing him to be an early riser, they just guessed he would be occupied with his wife.
Zuko walked alongside them, his presence drawing the occasional glance, though far less than it might have elsewhere. Here, in the Republic City, titles blended more easily into the crowd, and even a Fire Lord could pass through without bringing everything to a halt.
His attention remained forward, though it shifted slightly at the way the others had been speaking since he arrived; their awkwardness was blatant.
And when he had asked where Aang was, it was Sokka who finally said it outright, unable to hold it in any longer.
"He's married."
Zuko slowed half a step, eyes widening at the revelation. He was expecting an 'Oh, he slept in!' or 'He's busy with Avatar stuff, y'know?', but this was the most unlikely answer to the question he had asked.
"What?" he repeated, the surprise clear.
"Yup. He came back yesterday with a suspicious-looking lady, and then he introduced her as his wife!"
Sokka spoke animatedly, which really didn't help his case while explaining something that was already hard to believe.
"Oh. Good for him."
Zuko's reaction landed poorly. Sokka turned toward him immediately, incredulity written plainly across his face.
"Good? How is that your takeaway from this?"
Zuko frowned slightly, not in a defensive manner, but genuinely confused by the response.
"He's married," he said, as though that alone should explain it. "What's not to be happy about?"
Sokka stared at him for a second longer before his face shifted. Without saying anything, he tilted his head just enough, his gaze flicking briefly toward Katara.
Zuko understood, sparing a small glance at the Waterbender. He did not comment on it so as to not acknowledge the implication aloud.
So he spoke again, not entirely changing the topic but not dwelling on the previous conversation.
"What is she like?" he asked.
Toph gave a small shrug, her posture loose, though her answer came like she had it ready. "Couldn't tell you much. She barely spoke."
"She was all gloomy." Sokka added.
"That's not true Sokka, she was just tired." Katara said, and the fact that she spoke at all drew their attention immediately.
"She's..." Katara paused for a second, then continued, "she's beautiful."
Everyone visibly faltered in their steps, making Katara let out an exasperated sigh.
"Can you guys please stop? I'm fine, alright?" she said, a quiet firmness entering her voice as she looked at them.
"Can you stop looking at me like that? It's like you're walking around eggshells whenever you talk about Aang."
No one responded. Frankly, they didn't know what to say.
"There's nothing wrong," she continued, voice softer now. "He's happy. And nothing makes me happier than that."
Zuko drew a quiet breath, feeling the air grow awkward by the second, so he spoke—
"Where is his wife from—"
He couldn't finish.
Sokka's attention snapped elsewhere mid-step, his hand lifting abruptly as he pointed across the street, his voice cutting through Zuko's question.
"Look! There's Aang...woah."
All of them (except Toph) followed his line of sight, and there, moving through the street were you and Aang.
You walked beside him, your arm encircled around one of his. Aang greeted those around him with the same open warmth he always had, children waving as he passed, some giving a gentle bow.
But it was not Aang that had held their attention.
It was you.
The difference from the day before was unmistakable.
Where you had once appeared in plain robes, you now stood adorned in the finest of fabrics, silks that caught the light in all their glory, draped carefully over your form.
Delicate jewelry framed you, resting at your neck, your ears, your wrists, your hands, even woven into your hair, each placed with grace as though they were a part of you.
It was a stark contrast. Not only to what you had worn the day before, but to him.
Aang, in his simple robes, untouched by ornaments except for his prayer beads and the Air Nomads symbol he wore proudly, stood beside you without any attempt to match you in your regal ensemble.
It felt...unexpected.
The distance between all of you closed naturally, meeting the group halfway.
You had inclined your head slightly, offering a small bow in greeting, as Aang excitedly greeted his friends.
He left your side momentarily, moving to give Zuko a hug after not having seen him for over a year now.
Once Aang returned to your side, you finally spoke, and it felt as though they were hearing your voice for the first time.
"It is an honor to be in the presence of the Fire Lord," you said, your tone refined. "I have heard of your tales and your journey from my husband. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
Your gaze rested on Zuko trying not to linger on the scar across his face. Simultaneously, Zuko took in every inch of you with a quick skim.
There was a confidence in the way you held yourself, in the way you walked, even in the way you spoke. The structure of your speech, the practiced tone, the accustomed comfort of status.
It was unmistakable, and Zuko took note of it easily.
You carried the weight of upbringing, much like himself. You carried royalty.
He inclined his head slightly in return, his response just as respectful.
"The honor is mine," he said.
Your attention shifted then, moving to the others.
"It is good to see you all again," you continued, offering a small smile that did not overreach.
"I apologize if my company yesterday was lacking. I had been traveling for days without pause, and though I would have preferred to settle into our home sooner, I understood that Aang wished to make up for lost time."
At that, you glanced back at Aang, and he met your look with a sheepish grin, one hand lifting to the back of his head in a gesture far too familiar to everyone there.
"Sorry," he said lightly. "I was just really excited."
His hand dropped soon after, settling over yours where it rested against his arm. You only shook your head faintly, your smile remaining.
"There is no need to apologize." Then your gaze shifted again.
"You are Katara, correct?" you spoke, turning to the Water Tribe girl.
The moment you spoke her name, you felt Aang flinch against you, your eyes snapping to your connected hands before returning to Katara.
"...Yes?" Katara answered with a question hidden beneath it.
"The food you prepared yesterday was lovely," you said. "I am grateful for the effort you put into hosting us on such short notice."
Katara blinked once, caught off guard by the sincerity of it.
"Oh...that..." she said, her words settling unevenly before she steadied them. "It was my pleasure."
You nodded slightly in acknowledgment before continuing.
"I understand from Aang that we are to gather at your home again this evening."
"Yes," Katara replied, more certain with her voice now. "I'll have everything ready by eight."
"I see," you said. "Aang and I shall arrive earlier to assist you."
Katara's response came quickly, almost like a reflex. "Oh, there's no need for that—"
"I insist," you said gently, and although you had just met, the finality in your words left little room for refusal.
"We will be there at six. Won't we, Aang?"
There was the smallest pause before Aang glanced at you, then back at the others, his smile returning easily.
"Yeah, Katara, we want to help."
"We'll be there too," Sokka added quickly, his words coming out faster than intended. He wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but something about your presence at Katara's home unsettled him.
"I will join as well," Zuko said, his voice steady, his gaze returning to you with quiet interest.
Toph let out a small huff. "I'd offer, but—"
"You're coming anyway," Sokka cut in immediately.
A quiet laugh passed between them, light enough to ease the moment.
Aang shifted, his attention returning to you as he remembered his agenda for the day.
"I promised to show her around," he stated, the grin stretching across his face in excitement.
"I'll see you guys at noon!" he said, before guiding you forward once more, his hand engulfing yours as he pulled you along with him.
By the time the sun had reached its peak, the earlier bustle smoothed beneath the midday heat. As promised, Aang had left to meet his friends. He had left you at home not long before, trusting you to settle in at your own pace.
He found Appa waiting, ever patient, as he climbed onto his back, Momo already darting up to join him, settling on his shoulder. The flight was short, and it did not take long before the city gave way to an open stretch of land just beyond the outskirts of the city, leading uphill to a stumped cliff.
His friends were already there, waiting for him. Aang was excited to spend some time with them. He had sensed your presence make them feel awkward around him, so he thought this might come as a good opportunity to ease their friends into his new marital life.
Sokka stood close to the edge, his posture restless even as he was still, while Katara remained close by, her attention shifting at the sound of Appa's descent. Toph sat relaxed, floating a few rocks in the palm of her hand, and beside them stood Zuko, his presence quieter than the group.
Appa landed and the wind settled around them as Aang stepped down, and Momo wasted no time in leaping off after him to greet the others.
His gaze moved across them, a small smile forming. It felt nice to have the group back together. And he hoped for you to gently be included in the future.
His friends on the other hand, had a different plan They trusted him. That much had never been in question. But even their trust was wavering as curiosity came knocking down those carefully built walls.
The scheme had been made before he arrived. It was simple. Get information out of Aang. Simple.
And perhaps if they had asked straightforwardly, Aang wouldn't have denied them.
But Sokka just had to ruin it all by starting off the conversation with—
"You know, Aang, you really shouldn't let your wife walk around dressed like that. Isn't she supposed to wear your monk robes now? What even was that?"
He let out a short laugh, the sound landing unevenly against the quiet of the hill.
Aang's expression shifted, his easy grin dropping so dramatically, they were sure the entire city felt the pressure in the air drop.
Beside Sokka, Toph let out a sharp exhale, her hand coming up to her face in immediate exasperation.
Katara did not hesitate, a quick motion of her hand sending a splash of water directly into Sokka's face with enough force to deliver a slap.
"Hey—!" Sokka sputtered, wiping at his face as he turned toward her, ready to argue, but Aang's voice came sooner than his.
"What are you trying to say, Sokka?"
Aang looked as though he would lash out, but he didn't. His voice wasn't loud, and it didn't need to be to feel the growing anger beneath it.
The tension followed, unsettling them all. For a brief moment no one spoke, because this had been uncalled for. None of them wanted their 'reunion' to start on a bad note, much less end on it.
So Zuko gives an attempt to salvage it in the easiest way he could think of. Throw Sokka under the bus.
"That was very rude, Sokka," he said. His gaze moved briefly toward Sokka before returning forward. "Why should Aang have a say in what his wife chooses to wear?"
There was a pause before he continued, his voice lowering to soften the weight of what he was going to say.
"Besides..." he added, the word carrying a hesitation he did not fully understand, "I think she looked rather...beautiful."
The last word came slower than the rest, and though his expression remained composed, something in him had bloomed.
Katara had been correct in describing you.
Zuko's dilemma went unnoticed by everyone else, slipping beneath the surface without acknowledgment.
"Yeah, whatever," Sokka says, brushing off Zuko's scolding with an edge in his voice.
"I'm just saying, Aang, if people see the your wife walking around dressed like that, they're going to start talking. You're the Avatar for Spirit's sake! No one's even heard of her before, and suddenly she shows up with you looking like that? People are going to assume things."
He didn't stop there.
"They might think she just married you to—"
"I beg of you to stop talking!" Toph cut in loudly, her tone sharp not only from annoyance but also concern
She could feel it, the subtle rise of rage encircling the area where Aang was sitting. Sokka threw his hands up slightly, frustration quick to follow.
"Hey, I don't mean it in a bad way! I want what's best for him."
The words did not land the way he had intended them to.
Somewhere in Aang's mind, he knew that Sokka would be a challenge. He knew Sokka would not be accepting to your presence, always having been the sensible one in the team. But the horrible implications he made about you were too much.
Yes, he had expected for Sokka to be unwelcoming, but he didn't think he would stoop so low to imply something so vile.
Aang moved before he realized, words spewing from his mouth as he still fought to hold back his anger.
"My wife," he said, the words coming out sharp, an unfamiliar tone that did not belong in their usual conversations, "left her home for me."
He rose to his feet as he spoke, the motion slow as his presence shifted with it.
"She chose to come with me to a city she doesn't know, to be around people she's never met, and the only things she has from her home are what she brought with her."
Sokka unconsciously took a step back, and even though Aang was further away the distance was evidently closing.
"If she wants to wear them, she will," Aang continued, "And if she wants more, then I will give them to her."
He took another step forward.
"That's her choice," he said. "Hers. Not mine. And definitely not yours, Sokka."
The space between them closed completely, and Sokka watched the boy he once towered over meet him eye to eye, where he could see that he had definitely struck a huge nerve.
Toph was on her feet, stepping close, her hand lifting slightly just in case.
"Whoa, easy, Twinkle Toes," she said, her tone lighter than the tension warranted. "Sokka's just being Sokka. Don't let it get to you."
"Yes, Aang, he's talking nonsense," Katara added quickly as she shot her brother a sharp look.
Zuko remained where he was, silent.
"It didn't sound like nonsense to me," Aang said, and in a single motion that came as quick as lightning, his hand caught the front of Sokka's collar, gripping it firmly to pull him slightly off balance.
"Do we have a problem, Sokka?"
The man in question gritted his teeth, his brain telling him to end the fight and apologize, but instead he chose to bite back just as fiercely.
"Yeah," Sokka shot back, the restraint he had been holding slipping away. "I do have a fucking problem."
Aang’s face twisted more, but he let the older man continue, understanding this wasn’t something as shallow as about what you wore.
"You disappear without a word for months, and then you come back married?" His voice rose and the frustration in it no longer contained.
"We're your friends, Aang! We're supposed to be your closest friends. Don't you think that's something you should've mentioned?"
Aang's jaw tightened, his grip still firm. He heard what Sokka was saying, and as much as he understood the weight behind it, Sokka's previous words, the way you had been spoken about, refused to settle.
Neither of them moved. But then Katara stepped in, her hand pushing against Aang's arm.
"Aang, let him go."
Toph was already there beside her, offering her silent support.
He let go.
Sokka stumbled back half a step, adjusting his shirt with a quick, irritated motion, watching as Aang spoke.
"It just... happened," Aang said, his voice quieter now, though the edge remained beneath it. "I don't always have the time to send out a letter for every little thing."
"Every little thing?" Sokka repeated, disbelief cutting through the words. "You got married. How is that something little?"
"Stop it, Sokka," Katara said, but he didn't stop.
"No," Sokka said, shaking his head, the frustration still too close to the surface to be dismissed.
"I will be honest, Aang. I do not like your wife."
The words landed harder than anything else he had said before.
"I know you're hiding something," he continued, his voice lower now. "And you can't even be honest about it with your own friends."
Something in Aang snapped.
"Maybe," he said, "you should realize for once that you don't need to know everything!"
Sokka held his gaze for only a second longer before he let out a frustrated breath, the anger in him growing.
"Forget it." he muttered, turning away abruptly.
He didn't look back.
"Fuck this. I'm done."
He started walking down the slope without waiting for a response, his steps quick as he stopped for no one.
Katara hesitated only briefly, glancing back at Aang momentarily, before following Sokka, her hand catching Toph's arm and pulling her along with her despite the protests that came from it.
"Hey! I can walk on my own—"
And within moments, they were gone, leaving Aang and the Fire Lord behind.
The wind moved across the hill, filling the silence as it brushed through the grass.
Appa approached first, lowering his head to nudge against Aang in an attempt to cheer him up. Momo followed him, settling near him with a soft chirp before climbing closer, pressing himself to his side.
Aang did not move them away. He let himself settle onto the grass instead, the tension still present in his posture. His gaze remained fixed somewhere else, thoughts going haywire, wondering how quickly it all went downhill.
Beside him, Zuko lowered himself to sit as well. He did not press, did not interrupt, allowing Aang to process the situation at his own pace.
Time passed in silence for a while, then, eventually, Zuko spoke.
"I do not mean to pry," he began, his tone slightly tentative. "but is your wife of royal birth?"
The question was not meant to be intrusive, but it felt as though it was, so Aang did not answer immediately.
For a moment, there was only the wind again, moving through the space between them.
Then—
"Noble," he said.
Zuko nodded his head slightly, accepting the answer for what it was, though his thoughts did not stop there.
"From where?" he asked after a moment.
Aang's gaze did not shift.
"A smaller nation close to the Earth Kingdom."
The explanation ended there and Zuko didn't ask anything more.
He understood restraint well enough to recognize it in others, and whatever was unsaid, he let it remain that way. Aang wouldn't go to such lengths if it wasn't important.
"I hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive Sokka." Zuko said after a moment.
Aang's expression did not change, though is posture softened at the though of his oldest friend.
"Only if he apologizes," he replied.
"Well...yes. Of course." Zuko assured.
Evening settled in fully by the time they gathered again, the sky dimming into a softer hue that filtered through the open windows of Katara's home.
Everyone had arrived at six, just as promised.
All except Sokka.
You stood beside Aang and Zuko in the kitchen, your hands occupied with small tasks Katara had asked each of you to do, easily settling into the mood for preparation. Aang moved beside you, while Zuko did his best to assist.
In the living section of the room, Toph had claimed the couch entirely, stretched out without any concern.
The conversations moved easy enough. You weren't much involved in the talking part, and you hadn't notice the underlying conflict between the group.
By the time you glanced up again, the light outside had shifted further, and the absence of a certain someone was all too blaring.
"Will Sokka be joining us at eight after all?" you asked, your tone unassuming, though the question itself stilled the room.
The discussions through the room came to a halt, taking you off guard by the sudden silence.
Aang answered before anyone else could.
"Do not worry about Sokka," he said too quickly, and though the edge in his voice was subtle, it was enough to make you take note that something was wrong.
You turned slightly toward him, your hand lifting instinctively to rest against his arm.
"Is everything alright?"
"Mhm." He gave an unsure hum.
"What he means is, Sokka is—"
Katara began, but she did not finish.
The door opened.
"I'm here."
Sokka stepped in without ceremony, the spare key tossed carelessly onto the counter with a small clatter that cut through the air.
"Sorry I'm late," he added, already moving across the room, dropping himself onto the couch beside Toph, who barely shifted at his presence.
"I'm glad you could you make it, Sokka." You greeted politely, but got no response.
"Would you like to help us out?" You prodded yet again, only to be met with a—
"In a minute. I just got here."
His words shut you up as you frowned at his behavior. He was very unlike the Sokka Aang had once described to you.
"If you're just going to be lazy, then come back at eight." Aang's voice came sharp this time.
He swiftly turned his back to the living area as he moved toward the stove, focusing instead on the task in front of him.
The room stilled again.
You glanced between them, and after a brief pause, you simply stepped after Aang, returning to your place beside him, your hands resuming their quiet work, peeling through the peas with careful attention.
Katara watched for only a second longer before she exhaled softly.
"I'll be back," she said, and her gaze lingered on Aang for a moment before she turned away, stepping out of the kitchen and into the living area.
Zuko noticed the way the space between you and Aang had closed again, your voices lowering for something private, so he followed Katara's lead, stepping away to give you both some distance without making it obvious.
In the living area, Sokka leaned back against the couch, his earlier frustration still present beneath the surface.
Katara did not sit. She stood in front of him, her arms folding as her voice dropped.
"You need to apologize to him."
"I will," Sokka said, almost immediately, his voice riddled with guilt. "Of course I will."
There was a pause.
Then he added, "But you can't tell me you don't agree with me."
"I don't."
Zuko's voice cut in before Katara could respond.
"I think she is rather lovely."
Sokka let out a short, incredulous breath, turning toward him with a look that bordered on disbelief.
"Okay, stop with the compliments," he snapped. "It's weird coming from you."
Toph pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, a grin pulling at her expression.
"Oh, this is interesting," she said, her tone carrying that familiar edge of amusement. "Has Zuko taken an interest in the missus?"
"Nonsense," Zuko replied immediately. "I am stating what is obvious. They suit each other."
His gaze shifted then, drawn back toward the kitchen as the others followed.
Through the open space, they could see the two of you clearly. Aang standing close you, speaking in hushed whispers and big smiles.
Perhaps he says something funny, because you reached for him, your hand lifting to land a playful slap on his shoulder, only for him to catch it before it landed.
His fingers closed around yours as he brought your hand upward planting a kiss to the inside of your wrist.
Katara looked away first, and her gaze shifted sharply, her focus fixing elsewhere as she tries not to dwell on what she just saw.
"Come on, Zuko," she said. "We still have dinner to finish."
She did not wait for a response, already turning back toward the kitchen. Zuko followed shortly after, stepping away and leaving Toph and Sokka alone.
It was nightfall by the time dinner ended. The table had been cleared, dishes left soaking, and a bottle of wine had been opened for those who wanted it, though tonight it was only Toph and Zuko who indulged.
Sokka had declined, his reason simple. He wanted to keep a clear head for what he had to do.
He had to apologize.
So he stood outside on the balcony with Aang, the doors shut behind them, their voices muffled by the glass, leaving the rest of the house quieter.
You did not remain in the living area.
The unfamiliarity of his friends still remained, so when Aang stepped away, you excused yourself with the pretense of needing water. The kitchen welcomed you back as you sat upon the open counter, a glass in your hand.
Zuko noticed.
He had been seated in the living area, his attention divided between the balcony and you. Your absence had settled firmly in his awareness.
Katara and Toph remained focused on the figures outside, so he rose without announcement. The soft sound of his steps did not reach you until he was already there, a glass of wine held loosely in his hand.
"Do you not drink?"
His voice broke through your thoughts as you looked up, pulled back into the present.
"Oh...I used to, my father would allow me a couple sips during dinner." you said, smiling fondly at the memory, but instantly a scowl tainted your face, as though you had remembered something foul.
"I abstain now that I have married Aang." You ended, smile returning.
"Did he ask you to do that?"
"No," you answered. "I chose to. Out of respect for my husband's culture."
You weren't sure of the Fire Lord's motives in approaching you, but you decided to make the best of the situation.
"May I ask what happened between him and Sokka?" you questioned, your eyes meeting his in confidence. Zuko was sure you were examining for even the slightest nuance.
Zuko did not answer immediately, knowing it wasn't his place.
"I think it would be better if it came from Aang," he replied at last.
Your expression did not change.
"What difference does it make, Fire Lord Zuko, if you were the one to tell me?"
"The difference lies in trust," he said. "You may not take my words lightly if they come from me, and I would prefer that there be no unnecessary conflict between us."
"And you suspect there will be," you said, not as a question.
Zuko exhaled faintly.
"I believe there would be," he admitted. "Because unlike Aang, I would not soften what was said."
A small sound left you then, something close to a laugh but not entirely one.
"I may not have known Aang for as long you have, but even I know that Aang is not one to gain a temper against his friends so easily. At least, not anymore."
"You would be surprised at his younger self." He humors.
You chuckle, but your fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
"Then maybe you can tell me this," you continued, your voice lowering.
"Was the reason of their fight, me?"
Zuko hesitated.
"...You could say that."
"Was I insulted in my husband's presence?"
His silence was answer enough.
"Pray tell," you said, the calm in your voice almost poisonous. "what exactly was said?"
"Many things," he replied. "Things I would hope you take with a grain of salt, since it came from Sokka."
"Funny."
You did not remain where you were.
The glass was set aside, forgotten, as you stepped down from the counter, closing the distance until you stood before him, your gaze lifting to meet his.
"Aang spoke to me about you. I didn't even know he was friends with you until yesterday."
"That's surprising, considering everyone knows of the Avatar's feat of ending the 100 year war, including my involvement."
"I didn't think to connect the dots."
"Hmm."
"He told me about how you met. A very endearing story. The lengths one goes to for their honor."
Zuko couldn't tell if that was meant to mock him, but that phase of his life still remained something he was ashamed of, so the frown on his face was inevitable.
"Do not be upset. I didn't mean it as an insult. I'm only mentioning it because it's something I can agree with."
You clarify, setting the cup of water down onto the counter before continuing.
"Which is why I figure you will understand that," you paused, your voice steady as you finished your sentence. "My honor is not something I treat lightly. It is very dear to me."
You stepped even closer, the space between you narrowing until it left little room for anything else.
Zuko did not speak.
There was something in the way you held yourself despite the quiet fracture beginning to show, that felt familiar. It did not come from recognition of you, but from something he had once carried himself, something he had fought to reclaim.
Honor.
It wasn't just a word, it was once his purpose and now his treasure.
"I understand." he said.
Your composure faltered then. Your jaw tightened, you did not look away, and Zuko noticed there was a sheen to your eyes now.
"Do you really?" you asked.
"I do," Zuko answered. "But I also do not want you to turn against Sokka because of it. He is still Aang's closest friend."
"Perhaps he will not be for long."
Your response had come without any hesitation, and it stumped him.
You drew in a quiet breath, the tension pulling inward once more as you turned away. You grabbed the glass of water you set down, draining it in one motion before you started rinsing it with more force than necessary.
Behind you, Zuko remained still.
Until now, he had believed Sokka's concerns were rooted in something else. Namely, in the history between Aang and Katara. But standing there, watching the way your single statement had carried a genuine threat behind it, he began to see it differently.
Maybe, Sokka was not disappointed by the unwritten story of Aang and Katara.
Perhaps he feared what your presence would do to the group, because he saw something in you the others failed to see.
Zuko returned to the living area and he noticed you leaving the kitchen in the same moment, your movement quick, and he assumed you had gone in search of some quiet corner of the house.
By the time he seated himself again, the balcony doors had opened.
Aang and Sokka stepped back inside together, the earlier tension between them no longer sharp, though it was not entirely gone. After all, Aang may forgive, but he was not one to forget easily.
Zuko's scanned their dejected faces, so to lighten the mood he jokes—
"Were you both crying?" he asked.
"No, we were not!" Aang and Sokka answered at once, their voices overlapping in perfect unison, and for a brief moment, something familiar surfaced between them.
Laughter followed, and it felt like they were all kids again.
Aang's attention shifted soon after, his gaze moving across the room before settling into a small frown.
"Where is she?" he asked.
Zuko leaned back slightly. "She stepped out. I believe she went to find the restroom."
Aang's expression tightened just a fraction. "I don't think she knows where it is."
"She's a big girl," Toph said from the couch. "She'll figure it out."
"I can go check," Katara offered, already stepping forward.
Aang stopped her before she could take another step. His hand caught her arm gently, halting her movement. Her breath hitched, the reaction subtle as her resistance dissolved beneath Aang's touch.
"I'll go," he said instead. He did not wait for a response before turning, already moving out of the room in search of you.
In his haste, he did not notice what had slipped loose. It was Katara who saw it first, her gaze dropping toward the floor just after he had disappeared from view.
"His emblem—" She pointed.
The small piece lay near where he had stood, the Air Nomad symbol detached. Zuko reached for it before anyone else could, his fingers closing around it with care.
"I'll bring it to him," he said, stepping away from the others, the emblem held loosely in his hand, as he moved through the unfamiliar layout of the house, turning once, then again.
And then he found you both.
He stopped before either of you noticed him.
You both stood close, your hands pressed against Aang's chest, your fingers curled slightly into the fabric. Aang's hands rested at back as his arms engulfed you.
Zuko stepped back instinctively, retreating into the shadow of the wall, turning his gaze away even he remained where he was, his presence hidden.
He did not watch.
He listened.
A soft sound broke through the quiet as you pulled away, your voice following after.
"Why won't you just tell me?" you asked, the words catching at the edges. "What did Sokka say?"
Aang did not answer, and the silence went on with the occasional break of your sniffles, enough to confirm what had not been said.
"Zuko said he insulted me. Did you just forgive him for it?" you pressed, your voice breaking slightly.
"...Not exactly—"
"It's a yes or no question," you cut in, sharper now, though the hurt beneath it did not lessen. "Tell me, what did he say, Aang?"
"Please stop crying," Aang whispered as you pulled you into a hug yet again. "I'll tell you everything once we're home."
You sobbed against his chest, your breath uneven, before you braced yourself for your next words.
"Did...did you tell Sokka about...what happened...—"
"I would never!" He exclaimed softly, pulling away slightly so he could meet your eyes. "I would never disrespect you like that, I promise you."
"But Sokka did, didn't he? And I consider you forgiving him is just as disrespectful."
"I forgave him because he was sincere with his apology. Sokka is not someone who acts on his feelings like that."
"How is that meant to justify anything."
"It means, whatever was said about you was his anger directed at me."
There was a pause after his statement, shifting your eyes from his as you closed them shut.
Your grip on him tightened, inhaling softly to you ease your emotions.
"It seems my presence has caused a lot of harm. And it's only been a day."
"It is not your fault. My friends felt deceived because I didn't tell them about you. I chose to stay silent."
You knew Aang meant well, but you were taking his words at face value.
"...I feel as though I have trapped you. I should have never agreed—"
"You are the best thing that has happened to me. I know it may not have seemed like it in the beginning, but I do not regret asking you to marry me. I never will."
His tone softened further as his hands lifted, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had already fallen.
"I am sorry that you've been having a hard time around my friends."
Even though he didn't need to, his apology was reassuring, and you shook your head with a smile.
"It's alright. It shows how much they care for you."
At your words he smiles, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
"Let me take you home. I'll explain everything."
You nod, head tilting back as he leaned closer for a kiss. The kiss was not brief. It was deep and vulnerable, the shine of tears still tracing your cheeks.
Then there was nothing more.
Zuko did not stay. He stepped away as quietly as he had arrived, your conversation left behind him.
When he returned to the others, Katara noticed his failed excursion immediately, eyes dropping to the emblem still in his hand.
"You couldn't find him?" she asked.
Zuko glanced down at the emblem, then back at her.
"No." he said calmly. "I'm sure he will return for it."
chapter three coming soon...
a/n: fair warning, this story will have darker themes in the future. my vision for this story is very straightforward and to the point, so yes, the characters may seem ooc at times. but i gotta do it for the plot. just promise me, no one will hate on the actual characters, okay?
synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..
⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism
⚝wc: 3.2k
⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?
“Uraume.”
“Yes, master?”
“Have you had…lovers before?”
Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.
“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”
Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.
“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”
It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.
“Thats…”
His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.
“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”
Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.
“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.
“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.
Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?
As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.
“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.
“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.
Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.
You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”
The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.
“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.
“Weren’t you, Uraume?”
The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.
Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.
“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”
You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.
He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.
“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”
“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.
His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.
His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.
༺═────────────═༻
As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.
He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.
Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.
The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.
༺═────────────═༻
It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.
Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.
You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.
“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”
“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”
“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.
You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.
A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.
“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.
Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.
Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.
“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”
Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”
“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”
Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.
“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.
You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.
“Thank you Uraume.”
Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.
They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.
As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.
The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.
His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.
He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.
“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.
“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.
You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.
“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”
“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more… compelling… that’s caught my attention.”
Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.
You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.
You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.
Knock knock
Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.
“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.
“It’s me, my lord.”
He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.
“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.
Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.
“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.
Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.
“My lord, I—”
But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.
“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”
“I-if this is not a good time—“
Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.
“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.
Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.
“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.
“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.
“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”
They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.
Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.
You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.
“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”
Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.
“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.
You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.
Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.
“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.
“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”
Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.
“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.
Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.
“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”
Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.
“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”
Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.
“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.
And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.
Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.
Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.
“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.
trueform sukuna decides to torture uraume using you | 18+
The moon hangs heavy over the palace, a silver blade slicing through the humid night. Emperor Sukuna wanders like a ghost through the vermillion corridors, his silk robes whispering against the polished floorboards.
For a man of his hulking stature with four bulky arms, corded muscle packed into his body as if a strategist sculpted him for war, eyes like rubies, a gnarled mask upon one side of his face and more mouths than necessary, he moves with the delicate, soundless footfalls of the tiniest mouse.
Though his cunning, calculating nature is more akin to that of a sly cat slinking through these grounds undetected and hunting down said mouses to devour whole.
He had built this sanctuary—a gilded cage for the broken, a haven for the daughters of scorched earth and the wives of dead rivals. He asked only for their loyalty, a debt paid in silence and presence.
Murmurs that do not belong to the wind bring him to a halt near the Wisteria Pavilion.
Shadows dance against a heavy cedar pillar. There, his most trusted advisor, the stoic and glacial Lord Uraume, is pinned by a woman.
The rosy-haired man's muscles bunch, energy thrumming quietly inside him as he readies himself to conjure it and slice down the attacker. A woman being an assassin is no surprise to him as they are far more intelligent and know how to bide their time unlike impulsive males.
Has this one nullified Uraume's cursed technique? Did she render them powerless? That must be the reason as Uraume would waste no time taunting their foe like Sukuna does. They prefer a quick and clean finish.
Squinting, the emperor vaguely recognises the woman. He must have seen her in passing. One he had rescued from a northern massacre. Her fingers are frantic and pawing, shedding Uraume's stiff brocade layers as if peeling fruit.
“You are asking for a beheading,” the ivory-haired advisor hisses, their voice a jagged edge of restraint. “If His Majesty finds out about your treachery, there is no mercy. I will not choose you, woman. I will stand at his right hand while you are cast to the wolves.”
The woman giggles as if in the presence of a jester—you, as Uraume whispers in warning—an unfazed, chiming sound of pure ignorance. Perhaps defiance. Something about it is intoxicating like warm, fruity wine sliding down one's throat but the melody leaves one parched and thirsty for more rather than satiated.
A temptress then, Sukuna muses in his thoughts.
“If the wolves are meant to feast on me, they will,” you purr, your glossy mouth crashing against theirs in a desperate, bruising kiss as you guide their hand beneath your paper thin robes that reveal your tantalizing silhouette in all its feminine glory when the moonlight bathes you just right.
Sukuna watches from the darkness, his expression unreadable. Rage does not simmer in his gut. Though, this does not surprise him. He may indulge now and then by bedding more than willing women but it's not something he's ravenous for. Desire does not control him, his lust has no hands to clutch the reins of his mind like animalistic men make it seem.
Ryomen Sukuna is nothing if not a sovereign.
However—
As his scarlet gaze traces over the lines of your body, one that resembles the tapestries, artwork, poems and ballads of forest nymphs that he's heard of, his irises swirl with a gnawing, teeth-aching sweetness that he's come to know as curiosity.
With his palace flourishing in terms of riches, women, food, flowers, wildlife and such, it's only natural that a beauty such as yourself has been hidden from him all this time. Perhaps you ensured you stepped into the dark corners as you clearly enjoyed slipping his notice.
Poor you, your days of frolicking around and rolling in the sheets with his advisor are over now. Not that you know yet but he'll be delighted to inform you soon.
Speaking of his advisor, Sukuna thought Uraume to be an ascetic, a person of paper and ink. To see them undone by the very mercy the Emperor had provided is a fascinating breach of the natural order.
Philandering, Sukuna is seemingly hypnotized by watching two silhouettes disappear into the pavillion only to reappear at the window in shadows lit by warm lanterns, bodies melting into one as the songs of lovers coupling spill into the night's air, chorused by nocturnal creatures chirping and the breeze rustling leaves.
The last thing the Emperor sees before he tears his eyes away and departs is you hovering over Uraume as if he were your devotee and you his goddess with the reverence of one and the danger of a female preying mantis about to seduce her mate then eat him to feed her young.
Three days later, the air in the throne room is thick and stifling. The scent of sandalwood incense curls around the high pillars. Emperor Sukuna sits upon his elevated, lacquered throne, his robes of black and red spilling over the dais like a pool of fresh blood.
Before him, dozens of ministers and high-ranking officials remain pressed to the floor deep bows, their foreheads touching the cold tile. They are statues of subservience, forbidden from lifting their eyes.
Today's reason is vastly different from the norm.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman is perched on His Majesty's lap.
Back pressed against his chest, your legs are parted wide over his powerful thighs. Your layered, silk robes have been discarded, leaving you in a thin, translucent chemise that clung to your damp skin.
Large, warm hands are anchored firmly on your plush hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as Sukuna shifts his weight.
Below the dais, Lord Uraume stands rigid. Their eyes are fixed strictly on the scroll in their slightly twitching hands, though their face is a mask of pale marble.
“Continue, Uraume,” the Emperor drawls, his voice deep and smooth, betraying nothing of the throbbing between his thighs. “The reports on the drought in the southern provinces. I find the details are lacking.”
As Uraume starts to read, his voice cracking slightly, Sukuna grips your waist and gives a sharp, upward thrust. He's buried deep within you, stuffing you full and bulging in your belly yet he's still trying to sink further inside as if there's more room, the wet, slick noises of your union echoing through the silent, bowing court.
Breathlessly, you gasp, your head falling back against the Emperor’s shoulder, your soft hands clutching at his lower forearms for stability as the upper pair of hands plucks and pinch at your aching nipples through your flimsy chemise.
A flat, wide tongue of sorts is soaking the back of your garment in globs of hot saliva and yet it pales in comparison to the slick coating your thighs in sopping dribbles.
“The irrigation channels are failing, Your Majesty,” Uraume informs, his eyes flickering for a fraction of a second toward the lazy roll of the Emperor’s hips that have your own bucking for more friction.
Despite the debauchery interrupting him, the advisor carries himself with grace and iron discipline. He does not look up unless the Emperor is talking.
Behind him, the court remains paralyzed, hearing the groan of the Emperor’s heavy throne and the soft, breathless whimpers of the woman seated upon his lap, juices splashing against the silk of your under-robes filling the silence between.
Sukuna doesn't slow down as he hums in response, expression thoughtful as he inclines his head. He sets a sloppy yet punishing rhythm, his cock withdrawing until the fat tip nearly slips out of your fluttering pussy that's trying to cling to it before plunging back in with a heavy, visceral thud that forces a salacious sob from your wet throat.
Leaning forward, you mewl at how his massive form crowds you, as hot as iron against your sweat-slicked back. Head dipping, his lips brush your ear as he whispers—loud enough for Uraume to hear—“Is this not what you craved? To see them splinter for you?”
Gaze cutting directly to his advisor over the your trembling shoulder that's donning the bruising indent of his teeth, he juts his chin. “Go on, Advisor. The civil unrest in the villages. Tell me how you propose to settle the bloodlust of men who have nothing left.”
Uraume's knuckles are white. They have to listen to the Emperor’s unbidden grunts and cusses, the filthy, squelching slap of skin on skin, and the high-pitched, desperate moans as you begin to unravel once again, about to worsen to the puddle of cum on the floor.
A thrill crawls down Sukuna's spine as it dawns upon him once more that you're being filled by the man Uraume serves, while your bleary, heavy-lidded gaze is on the one you had bedded in the shadows. His cock kicks as he watches Uraume's face—the vein pulsing in their forehead, the sweat dripping from their temple, hidden by their fringe. What he finds most amusing is the slight shifts in their stance which tells him that this is arousing his advisor and they despise it.
Tightening his hold on your hips with his upper arms, Sukuna plants his feet wide and hammers into you from below in earth-shattering thrusts that shake your cries and whimpers with the very force of his hips as your body jostles along, the jewellery you're adorning clinking and jingling in musical alarm. Manicured nails claw into his forearm in vermillion streaks, you grind down uncontrollably against his heavy, veiny cock.
“My, you're not bashful at all, are you?” Sukuna's words are a rumble of delight that has your lower belly dipping, arousal dripping down your thighs and messing his like sticky honey churning into cream with his precum.
He was utterly impressed earlier when he told you what he wanted you to do and while there was room for you to refuse, you cocked your nose in the air and held your head up high as you agreed. Something about you told him that you may have been a princess before this.
“Ah-ahhh-h, Your Majesty,” you breathe, brows knotting in an almost pained expression, plump lips spit-slick and agape on needy pants as your glazed over eyes peer down at the one of two cocks splitting you in half.
The other is drenched in your prior orgasms, a pearl of precum beading at the slit as it jerks, standing to attention just minutes after it spilled inside you.
Sukuna's long, drawn-out groans and grunts descend into feral huffs and growls against your sensitive nape as his thrusts become shallow and frantic, hips snapping up into you erratically. One of his lower hands reaches down to spread your thighs further to ensure Uraume can see the pretty petals of your drooling cunt swallowing his cock in ravenous gurgles while his other finds your puffy clit, fingers rubbing circles against it with ruthless precision.
Back bowing, your body arches, your pussy molding to his shape and clamping down on him as your orgasm crashes down on you in a violent wave. The prettiest cry falls from your mouth, the sound piercing the (barely) formal silence of the court.
Sukuna follows you shortly after, a low growl escaping his throat as he spills himself inside you again, ropes of pearlescent, syrupy cum painting your walls. The scent of your coupling is thick enough to choke the kneeling ministers.
Pants and gasps pour from you both as he slumps back against the throne, you boneless against him, heaving for air, while the court remains frozen in their bows, trembling now from having been in that position for so long.
“A sound strategy, Uraume,” Sukuna praises, face flushed and dewy with a blissed-out glow, his voice returning to its terrifyingly calm cadence as he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. “Though I think you’ll find that when a man is truly hungry, he will take what he desires, regardless of the cost.”
To add insult to injury, he bands a thick arm across your neck, cupping the side of your face to push your damp cheek against his, your hair curling against your forehead as your hooded, drowsy find Uraume's. Cotton fills your ears, muting everything around you, only the rush of your blood, pound of your heart and your shallow breaths audible.
“I think I have found your future Empress,” he announces and it lands like he just declared war on one of his allies with how the entire court tenses.
A sharp grin splits his cheeks as he glances down at his advisor, who is staring at the floor, reeling from the news. “You are dismissed. All of you. Leave me with my bride-to-be.”
𐔌 . ⋮ okay but imagine geto instead of using bondage he normally uses his curses to hold you down instead .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡
instead of using regular bondage like a normal person, geto uses his curses to hold you open.
he doesn’t need ropes or cuffs. one flick of his fingers and two small curses wrap around your wrists, pinning them above your head against the mattress. another two slide under your knees, spreading your legs wide and holding them there like they’re locked in place. you can’t close them.
you can’t squirm away. you’re completely exposed for him and he just smiles that soft, dangerous smile.
“look at you,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet as he settles between your thighs. “so pretty when you’re helpless for me.”
he doesn’t rush. he never does. he starts with slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, tongue tracing the marks his curses left last time.
when you try to buck your hips he just hums and lets another curse press down on your lower stomach, keeping you perfectly still.
“none of that,” he says calmly, like he’s scolding a misbehaving pet. “let me enjoy my meal.”
then his mouth is on you warm, wet, relentless. he licks through your folds like he has all night, tongue flicking over your clit before dipping inside you.
the curses tighten just enough to remind you you’re not going anywhere. every time you whimper or try to twist, another curse appears to hold you exactly where he wants.
he eats you out like it’s worship and torture at the same time slow, deep strokes of his tongue, sucking on your clit until your legs shake, then pulling back just enough to watch you drip for him.
“so wet already,” he whispers against your pussy, voice vibrating through you. “and i’ve barely started.”
he keeps going until you’re crying, thighs trembling in the hold of his curses, begging in broken little sobs.
only then does he let you cum tongue buried inside you, curses keeping you spread open so he can feel every pulse and flutter while you fall apart.
when you’re shaking and oversensitive he finally pulls back, lips shiny, eyes dark with satisfaction. the curses gently release you but he doesn’t move away.
instead he kisses your thigh softly and murmurs, “good girl. now let’s see how many more times i can make you cry for me tonight.”
baby!yuji thinks you’re too pretty for sukuna >_< !
visiting sukuna’s place sometimes entailed entertaining his tiny, beady eyed, absolutely adorable nephew yuji.
he had the same blush pink hair to match your boyfriend’s, the same eyes, and the same amount of spunk to match sukuna’s grumpy ass.
“hey pretty lady!!”
“hi yuji~” he practically squealed before lifting him up into the air and spinning him around.
he was giggling in your arms, burying his stupidly chubby cheeks into your shoulders before grabbing your face and tugging at it as if it were playdough.
“i swear you only come over for him.” you barely register sukuna’s voice, before he wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly before shooting the smallest glare in yuji’s direction.
“i mean can you blame me? look at him he’s adorable!”
“he’s manipulative that’s what he is.” sukuna says, still glaring at yuji before slowly walking you over to the couch, right before you have yuji seated on your lap, giggling, his hands running through you hair with the fascination only a kid can posses.
“he’s a kid, kuna.”
“he has you fooled already, woman.” sukuna’s grumpy expression has yuji bursting into a fit of laughter in your lap, hiding in your arms the second sukuna scoffs in his direction.
soon enough, the tree of you are huddled on the couch, your eyes glued to the tv screen trying to follow the plot of shitty movie yuji decided to pick out for the three of you, unbeknownst to you, the two pink haired menaces were having a staring contest—every moment sukuna tried to wrap his arms around you, yuji would bite down on them like the little gremlin he was.
“watch it brat, you’re on thin ice.” he warned, only to have the pudgy toddler stick his little tongue out at him.
“both of you. QUIET.” you whisper-shouted, and that’s exactly what got the two of them to have their mouths shut. momentarily, of course.
but the moment you yelled—they couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. sukuna was absolutely enamoured, he loved you, and everything about you was absolutely far too good for someone like him. yuji on the other hand, believed with the entirely of his tiny heart, that you were a princess. you always wore flowy dresses, your hair accessorises to match, your hands were always soft, and your smile was only something princesses possessed.
“k..kuna she’s toof pretty for you.” yuji mumbled in your grasp—and that’s exactly had you hysterically giggling while sukuna was utterly baffled that his little brat of a nephew had the balls to say that.
“i’m gonna kick him out.”
“you’re not kicking out a child, kuna.” you say between breathy giggles, and for a moment, sukuna agrees. you are too pretty for him, but guess what? that’s exactly why he was never going to let you go. you’re so far from his universe, but you’re still here, holding his nephew in your arms, giggling on his couch, curled up by his side.
“issok y/n, if you leave uncle kuna, you’ll still love me, okay?” yuji says almost pouting at you, his puppy eyes almost teary while he juts his lip out.
“don’t worry, i’m never leaving, yuji.” you looked right at sukuna while saying it, your eyes soft, your smile almost dangerously softer. you didn’t say it like it was a stupid joke, you said it like it was a promise. that you’d always be here, stuck by his side.
and for a split second, sukuna’s grateful for the stupid brat and his antics. and even if he’d never admit it out loud, he wouldn’t trade the two of you for the world. and before you knew it, the three of you were cuddled up on the couch, dead asleep, with yuji snuggled up in your arms while while sukuna had you tucked in his.
you really were like a princess. yeah, and you really were too pretty for him. but oh well, you were stuck with him for the rest of your life.
do we miss fluff. do we still like fluff. hello.
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
☆ you’re having a fever and satoru thinks it’s the best time to cockwarm you . . 18+
satoru lowers you into the warm bath water first, your back against his chest, your head lolling heavy on his shoulder because the fever has you all soft and dizzy. the steam curls around you both and he keeps one arm wrapped around your waist so you dont slip.
he is already hard. has been since he carried you in here. he spreads your thighs gently over his and lines himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance. you make a tiny feverish sound when he starts sliding in slow and careful, inch by inch until he is buried deep inside you with no rush to move.
“there we go,” he whispers against your damp hair, voice low and sweet. “just keep me warm, baby. thats all i want right now.”
he doesn’t thrust. he just stays there, thick and full, pulsing softly inside your fever-hot pussy while the bath water laps at your skin. every time you shift or whimper from the heat in your body his cock twitches and he tightens his hold, keeping you pinned flush against him so not even an inch slips out.
his free hand strokes your stomach in lazy circles, thumb brushing just below your belly button where he can feel the slight bulge of himself inside you. he loves how warm you are around him, tighter than usual because of the fever, every little flutter and clench milking him without either of you moving.
“so perfect,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “burning up and still taking me so well. my good girl.”
you feel floaty and hazy, the heat from the water and the heat from his cock mixing until everything blurs. satoru stays perfectly still except for the occasional slow roll of his hips that presses him just a little deeper, never pulling out, never fucking you, just cockwarming you nice and deep while he kisses the fever-sweat from your neck and tells you how warm and soft you feel around him.
he could stay like this for hours, buried inside you, holding you close while the bath cools and your fever slowly breaks against his skin.
I like to think Choso purposely makes his face mark bleed so you'll think he's injured and rush to his side, fawning over him.
"Oh my god, Choso. What happened? What did you do?" You rest his head on your lap, pressing tissues to the wound, with a furrow in your brows.
Meanwhile, he's fully hard and leaking in his pants as his entire vision is filled with the curve of your breasts. He fakes a soft voice and says, "This just happens sometimes."
"What can I do to help?"
Choso's lips curl up ever so slightly before he forces a faux-reluctant frown. "I-if my blood rushes down, away from my face, maybe it'll stop."
"Down?" you ask. "Down where?"
He drags your hand, lower and lower, until you're gripping something hard and scalding. You gasp.
"Here. Maybe if you release the tension here, I'll feel better."
You deadpan, fighting the urge to look at a non-existent camera in the corner. "Oh, I bet you will."
Nodding, he urges you to begin rubbing at the tent, letting out a whorish moan. With a roll of your eyes, you let him rut into your palm. Maybe you aid him with a squeeze here and there. But you'll never admit to it.
It's better if he thinks he's got you wrapped around his finger instead of the other way around.
╰┈➤ content & warning(s) : wlw, canon Jujutsu Kaisen universe, but many years later, where Maki is in her late twenties. smut with no plot, overstimulation, praise & degradation, dom!maki & sub!reader, light choking.
" mmh, love.. 'm busy right now.. maybe some other time, yeah? "
Those cursed words. All you wanted was a little affection from your girlfriend!- yet, with your pleading eyes, pouts, things that would've made her give in ages ago didn't work now. Were you a needy mess? Unfortunately. It's not your fault, though! Your girlfriend always made you needy and clingy with a few simple touches and words.
a curse and a blessing all in one.
Yet, with this particular day. It was like you were more needy than usual. aching for her touch, even if it was just a brush of your arms or even a simple pat on the thigh. Of course, you knew how busy your girlfriend was. especially since she was a sorcerer and was always busy. Yet, you couldn't help yourself!
" Baby.. I need you in me. " Bold? yes. But you just couldn't help yourself! grabbing her hand as you rested her head on her shoulder, hearing her lightly sigh at your words: not out of annoyance but more like.. fondness. as if she was amused by your whines and pleas. Well, almost amused by them if you weren't bugging her when she's busy with work.
" You can't wait f'me? " Maki paused, letting her hand wander to your thigh; the sudden placement made you almost gasp out loud. " Be a good girl for me.. okay? " Her words almost made you curse, you could practically get naked in front of her and she'll tell you to wait! But, no, no, no! You couldn't wait any longer!
Unfortunately, as you kept bugging your girlfriend, you didn't notice how annoyed she was getting by the second. which resulted in your current position for being so selfish and annoying, according to her!
Maki was just so mean to you. Her dark green hair was an utter mess around her pretty face, those amber eyes gleaming in your dimmed shared room. Her body was relaxed, unlike yours, as if her fingers weren't plunged deep into your needy pussy.
Your moans bounced off the walls. You could feel her fingers curling as she kept you locked underneath her, making you unable to move away from your punishment. How mean! Your legs were shaking. How many times have you cummed now? You lost count after the third release. She was overstimulating you just with her fingers. Your toes curled as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
" makii!- 's too muchh! I.. 'm sworry! " you cried out, fat globs of your pleasure rolling down your cheeks as you whimpered and whined. But you didn't dare stop her, even if she was driving you to the brink of insanity with her fingers.
" Shut up, you asked for this. Stop complaining. " Maki quickly shushed you, her fingers moving out of your tight entrance, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. She stood up and walked over to the nightstand, digging through the drawers as she pulled out that familiar silicone, a thick shaft that could easily hit all of your sweet spots instantly.
After a few seconds of preparing herself, she got on top of you and spread your legs, almost putting you in a mating press as you whined at her, feeling the silicone slowly fill you up as the both of you moaned- well, you were the one that mostly moaned, Maki was never the type to make too much noise during these moments.
" You're doing so good f'me.. my pretty girl.. " Maki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as she pressed soft kisses on your neck, cheeks, and jawline. giving you a few minutes to adjust to the feeling, she always made sure your comfort came first. even in moments like these, never forcing herself onto you ever.
" ..you can move, baby.. " you whispered to her, your voice low as you let out soft moans as soon as she started to rock her hips back and forth- at first, it was a slow pace, yet it gradually sped up after a couple of seconds, enough to make your mind go numb and your legs go weak almost immediately.
" You're such a good girl for me.. think you can take more. hm? " Maki mused, tilting her head as she watched your reactions carefully, watching as your eyes rolled back as she hit that one spot, how your legs grew limp almost immediately, how your back arched whenever she went too deep.
You nodded almost immediately at her words, almost eager to hear those sweet praises from her as her hand wandered over your naked form, stopping at your neck as she thrusted deep, as her hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed it; not enough to choke, but enough to force the air out of you.
Your shared room was filled with moans and whines, mixed with the sounds of wet 'plap!' 'squelch!' 'plap!', your cunt squeezing the silicone dildo as it entered and pulled out just barely, your needy pussy was practically squeezing the silicone back in with every rough thrust.
" You're so filthy.. letting me use you like this- you like being used, hm? " Maki teased, squeezing a tearful answer out of you almost immediately, " no!- nghh! y'er... b-being me-mean mnghh.. 'm gonna cum again! " With your words, it was as if she quickened her pace further; her stamina never failed to amaze you.
always folding you into positions you never expected to be in, drooling, eyes rolled back, body shaking, layers and layers of wet slick beneath the bedsheets below you two as she squeezed your neck one more time, forcing a choked cry out of you as a familiar tight coil sprang in your abdomen.
She fucked you through your rough orgasm whilst whispering dirty yet sweet things into your ears, your body immediately gave out as soon as that orgasm was forced out of you. Thankfully, Maki was nice enough to let you off your punishment easily.
But you knew that as soon as you woke up from your slumber..
..She was probably going to force you to suck on her strap again.
╰┈➤ author's note: literally came up with this while watching a horror movie, this might have a few errors and misspellings, so I apologize for that! Also, this is my first time writing smut, so.. haha..
I hope you loved this! I'll be willing to do requests ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
⤹ sfw, gn!reader, xiao and reader build lanterns together, xiao is a little self-deprecating but what else is new, not beta read
(1.8k words)
Xiao does not know how to be gentle.
His hands are soaked with blood from countless monsters, calloused and rough from years of using his polearm. When he picks herbs, he tends to accidentally crush the stems within his grasp. Even when eating, its difficult for him to delicately hold a pair of chopsticks and not wrap his fist around the wood to grip them like a dagger.
The feeling of softness is foreign and unsettling. Xiao does not know how to emulate something so unfamiliar. He is not gentle.
But you?
You are everything Xiao is not.
Xiao cannot help but watch as you deftly bend the thin bamboo strips into place, your soft hands quick and precise. The frame of the lantern does not stap beneath your touch like it does beneath his own.
"I… I do not think this was a good idea," Xiao finally states, his amber eyes flittering back to his own messy lantern frame. Many of the bamboo strips are bent oddly, splintering in ways that would surely tear at any rice paper that you would likely attempt to cover it with. Worst of all, Xiao feared that your uncalloused hands may be cut on the rough edges.
You finally look up from your work, a slight frown gracing your pretty features at his pessimism.
"What? No way, you're doing just fine!" And suddenly, you're close. Xiao can feel the heat of your body from the proximity, the surrounding air instantly feeling much colder in comparison. "You're bending the strips just a little bit harshly, but the frame is holding up just fine."
When you turn to look at him, Xiao feels like all of this suffering is worth it. Even if the lantern frame collapses, even if he breaks every strip of bamboo he's given.
"Here, I'll help you with this next bit," You step to the side and snake your arms around him, cupping his lithe hands within your own. Even through his gloves, he can tell that your hands are soft. And… you smell nice, too. Like sunshine and pleasant dreams. The breath that Xiao lets out is shaky, but you seem unbothered as your head pokes around his bicep to watch your work.
"Some of these were dried a little poorly, so that may be why you're having so much trouble," The piece of bamboo that you pick up is little, and Xiao suddenly feels rather clueless with it in his hands. He can feel your heartbeat against his back, and in turn his own seems to have stalled. "Just bend it slowly, Okay? Just like this—"
The thin piece of bamboo snaps within his hold again. Xiao grimaces, but you only laugh.
"Hang on, let's try again," You release one of his hands, grabbing another strip and handing it to him. "Don't press on the middle so much. This poor bamboo is just no match for such a mighty adeptus, hmm?"
Xiao can imagine whatever expression he's wearing appears to be rather unamused. "I feel as if you're just mocking me now."
"Whaaat? I wouldn't dare."
Amber eyes try to focus back on the new piece of bamboo in his hands, yet his gaze can't help but drift back to your hands around his own. Why is it that you seem to have so much power over him? Are you even aware of it? The way that he, graceful and practiced, tends to trip over his words and lose his dexterity the moment you appear? You make him wish that he were a different person, one not so unfamiliar with gentleness, so that he could hold you without fear for your safety.
And archons, does he want to hold you.
"Aand… There! See? I knew you could do it!" Far before he is ready, you are separating yourself from Xiao's back and releasing his hands from your grasp. The absence of heat felt jarring in a way that it never had before. "Just do it exactly like that, and you've got it!"
Xiao has to clear his throat, pretending that he had been paying attention. "Right. Very well, then."
He takes a bamboo strip into his gloved hands again, all too aware of its fragility. Your expectant gaze burns into the side of his face, and Xiao cannot bring himself to leave you waiting. An apology is already waiting on his lips as he begins, your tutelage wasted on his brutal hands— but the bamboo does not snap. This time, Xiao is able to slide it gently into place without a splinter. When he turns to you, there is already a bright smile on your face.
Loving. Bright. Xiao melts beneath it, red rushing to his pale cheeks.
"You shouldn't stare so intently," Xiao chokes out, fighting to maintain composure and focus on his craft. Your giggle makes his hands quiver, grin not faltering even as you return to your own lantern.
"I'm just happy you're here, that's all." You say it so simply, as if his presence were a rare treat. As if he wouldn't drop everything he was doing in an instant the moment he caught your voice on the wind.
He voices as much to you, lips pursed. "If you ever miss me, you need only call my name. I would be there for you. If you needed me."
You pause your work to look at him, the shine in your eyes achingly tender. Xiao nearly breaks the bamboo in his hands clean in half. "I know."
The both of you go quiet after that, mostly finishing the rest of your work in silence. Xiao is partly thankful for it, now that he is able to focus more of his attention on the careful craft. By the time he finishes the frame, his technique has become rather refined. As a result, however, the latter half of the frame looks far more polished than the rest.
You're rather undettered by this, however, enthusiastically thrusting some rolled-up rice paper into his hands. There are painted patterns and blessings already present throughout, and Xiao is certain that he's spotted something oddly reminiscent of his mask within the strokes.
"I already painted the paper before you came, I hope you don't mind!" You chirp, grabbing your own small roll to begin wrapping up your lantern frame. Xiao dusts his fingers over your work, wincing at the way the paper crunches under his touch.
"Nonsense. It looks…" The words evade him. It's difficult for him to find fault in anything crafted by your hands, especially when he thinks of you painting with that tender smile on your face in anticipation for his arrival. The idea that anyone who isn't in mortal danger would be excited for his arrival makes his heart leap strangely, even more so when that person happens to be you. "Perfect."
You preen at his praise, skillfully applying the paper to your frame without much trouble. Xiao's own paper tears in a few places beneath his unpracticed fingers, but with a little assistance, you both manage to smooth it on without too many issues.
"Now I feel like it's my turn to call your work perfect," You tease lightly, picking up his lantern and studying it. Xiao thinks that it looks sloppy and a little sad next to your own, but you seem entirely pleased with it.
"Please, there is no need to exaggerate," Xiao frowns as you carefully hand him the lantern, his eyes glazing over the many mistakes littering it. If only he were able to be more gentle with it. If only. Your smile scrunches up into something playfully irritated, and Xiao immediately feels guilty for taking such a lovely smile from your face.
"It's your first time making one, right?" You ask, leaving Xiao to nod rather uncharacteristally meekly. He hates that you turn him into someone so uncertain, but at the same time he finds it difficult to hate anything that you are the direct cause of. "Making lanterns is hard! Give yourself a little credit, okay?"
Xiao purses his lips, but argues no further. "If you insist."
Your soft lips open as if you want to continue chastising him, but the sound of cheers outside immediately cuts you off. You nearly shriek, scooping your own lantern up into one arm and grabbing Xiao's hand rather frantically to tug him outside. "No more complaining, its time to release them!"
Your hold, even when excited, is gentle. You are gentle. Xiao is not, and yet selfishly, he wants to keep holding onto you anyway.
He can't help but be dissapointed when you release him once again, fumbling for a moment to balance your lantern in one hand while also lighting your lighting stick on one of the small lamps that you lit when he first arrived.
"Okay, okay, ready? I'm gonna light yours first!" Xiao obediently holds his messy lantern out to you, allowing you to ever so carefully light it. The orange light of the fire sparkles in your eyes as you pull away, and Xiao cannot help but think that you shine brighter than any lantern he has ever seen. You struggle to light your own lantern independently for a moment, thanking Xiao profusely when he steps in to carefully steady the lighting stick in your hand before you burn yourself.
Once you finally manage with his help, you peek around the bright light of your lantern to grin at him. "Got a wish ready?"
Xiao's lips instinctively form the shape of your name. He has never wanted anything in the way he wants you.
"Yes."
"Perfect! We'll release them together, then," Your presence at his side is welcome, your neat lantern bumping lightly against his own crudely made one. Though, it becomes laughably simple to look past the tears in the paper and the splintered bamboo frame when Xiao catches the joy in your expression. "Count of three, okay?"
Xiao only nods curtly in response.
"Three," Your shoulder is pressed up against his own.
"Two," You smell of sunshine and sweet dreams and all things lovely in the world.
"One!" The lanterns in both of your hands release at the same time, drifting leisurely into the sky. Hundreds more coming from Liyue harbor drift up at the same time in the distance, but none of them have ever looked as sweet as the two in Xiao's sight right now.
Your hand, now free, falls back to your side and slips gently into his own. Xiao can't help the way his lips curl up at the corners. As the lantern floats away, he wishes more than anything to have you by his side forever. The gentle, beautiful you who stays regardless of his violent past and hands that do not yet know how to handle something so fragile.
"Happy Lantern Rite, Xiao."
The twinkle of flame and stars illuminates your face, caressing the soft slope of your smile. Your hand is warm against his own. He cannot help but tighten his grip on you, careful not to exert too much force.
Parings: Reinhardt, Venture, Hanzo, Junker queen, Doomfist, Pharah, Ashe, Lifeweaver, Lucio, Rat, Sombra, Sojourn, Moira, Mauga, Ramattra x afab Reader
Summary: What it’s like getting ate out by the Overwatch 2 Characters (Short headcanons)
TW: fingers, teasing, clit play, edging, dacryphilia, overstimulation, reader described a bit chubby, (amab) Venture, etc.
A/N: I made a part two, yayyy (Just Like Candy).
MOIRA
She doesn’t have the time to deal with your high libido, she’s more focused on her research.
—but, there are those moments after she’s done working late nights in the lab.
If you bring it up with her more than once, she’ll oblige, but you better prepare yourself for what she has in store for you.
Rope wasn’t a foreign concept in your relationship with Moira. If you annoyed her enough it wasn’t uncommon to see her get something to bind your limbs down. You want her to touch you that badly? She’ll give you what you want, but by her rules.
She’s on you, pulling away from your clit after your first orgasm. She wants you to feel everything before she gets to the best part. She wants you to be sensitive, that’s why she gives you what you want so quickly before she starts abusing your small nub.
It’s been the 5th time you’ve came tonight, you’re twisting your limbs in the tight restraints like it’ll actually do something. Tears are spilling out from the pure mix of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. This is what you wanted after all.
“You wanted this” your eyes widen after the short “break” you were granted before the flat of Moira’s tongue brushes the side of your clit, giving it a soft suck before her hands hold down your squirming thighs. “Now take it.”
DOOMFIST
Akande likes taking his time with you. Whenever he gets you alone after a long day of work at Talon, trust, you won’t be spared.
As soon as he gets you on the bed, his strong arms are already laced around your thighs, holding you open for him as he gets to work.
He talks you through every motion of his tongue, every kiss against his clit you can expect him to give you some sort of praise. And with how deep his voice is, he makes sure you feel every sensual vibration that roars over your cunt.
He’s kind of mean in a sense (sometimes). Since he’s so tense from work (Even though it’s what he’s most proud of) he feels the need to take it out on you, denying you the right to cum until he gives the say so. It’s not that he wants to deny you, but having you whining like this is just too therapeutic for him.
Akande loves adding his fingers in the mix. His hands are already quite large, so whenever he’s giving some attention to your clit you can expect his fingers to already be curled and spread on that spot that makes you cry out, pistoning them at a tender pace.
“You did well, but I’m not done yet. Give me one more and I’ll give you what you want.” and he does, you know he can’t wait that long after you’ve been so good for him.
JUNKRAT
Is one of the most messiest pussy eaters out there.
If you ask this man to go down on you, expect him to deliver in full. He’s yanking your pants down and spreading you out on his fingers before you can even blink.
He loves keeping you under his control as he lavishes you with his tongue (out of love of course)
He loves holding your legs in his grasp so you can’t escape, it doesn’t matter if he’s struggling to breathe, he’ll die a happy man between your thighs worshipping his goddess. His favorite position is him holding you upside down as he helps himself to your slick. It gives him more control over your movement. You want to run away because it’s too much? Well too bad.
He loves your scent, he can’t get enough of it. He’s messy, but he knows how to appreciate his meal. His nose is constantly buried into your heat while his tongue laps away carelessly. He may be a mass murderer, but Jamison knows how to appreciate true art such as yourself, that including your scent.
Each time Jamison goes down on you, expect to cum at least 3 times before he remembers that he actually has a hard erection clinging to his pants
“No—no, don't squirm. Just give me one more! Swear it’s the last time!”
It’s not.
SOJOURN
She’s actually quite shy the first time going down on you, but she’s sweet nonetheless. Just as always.
She’s always adorable with heated cheeks and a bashful glance whenever you provoke her during work. You want to act cheeky now? Keep that same energy when she has you seated on her work desk after hours.
She’ll scold you a bit, not literally, but it’s always a captain's duty to stay professional on the job, but she couldn’t resist your soft touches and whisper of her name.
Vivian takes her time with you, she’s not cruel after all, she’d never hold back on giving you both exactly what you wanted. She’s gentle. She’d hold your legs open, giving you a loving but stern glance as you shy away.
“No, sweetheart. I’m off the clock. Let me help you properly now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
She practically leaves you breathless, giving you no room to try to escape the pleasure of her soft tongue fluttering in your hole. If she really wants you to come undone, she’ll slide her palm up for sides until her finger “accidentally” starts rubbing tight circles over your clit. Her grip is strong but not enough to leave you bruised as she lightly pleases you with the soft pad of her tongue. She’s going to let you know just how much she loves you with each flick and suck over your pretty pussy.
“That’s it, fall back for me. Let it all out..” it wouldn’t take long until you’d happily repay the favor.
ASHE
Her pride won’t allow her to admit that she actually likes going down on you half the time. She doesn’t like how down bad she is for the mellow taste of your slick.
You could cling to her all day, begging her to come back to bed, but she won’t soften, not yet at least. She’ll ignore the softness of your body, the warmth of your touch. She’ll ignore everything if it means she doesn’t look like a desperate puppy for her girl.
When you finally do get her back to bed, you better start brace yourself. Fierce fiery red eyes peer at you from below in irritation as Ashe kisses her way down the swell curve of your thighs. “You had to tease me in public? I’m not going easy on you tonight.” And she doesn’t. She’s cruel, testing your antsy pleas for her to give you more than just a soft lick across your folds, but she doesn’t.
Each time you get worked up from her tongue, she pulls away, analyzing the livid reaction of desperation from your shivering body. Then, she goes back in, twisting her tongue under your clit just the way you like it, holding your wrist between her clamped palm to keep you somewhat still. “Don’t move, I’m not done yet..”
You’re shaking. It’s been almost two hours of this vile game and you still haven’t cum. She won’t let you.
It’s not until you properly apologize for today, babbling on about how you’ll never tease her again in public, then she’ll comply.
HANZO
Hanzo is surprisingly more gentle whenever he goes down on you. It’s not because he’s holding back, he just genuinely wants to appreciate your body as it is. Besides, he’s learned a lot from his past about being gentler with the people he cares about, and you’re no exception. He wants to treat you with respect and tenderness.
Each time Hanzo goes down on you, except a lot of foreplay and prep beforehand. It’s easy to get him pent up just by kissing or touching him. He loves you, and he’ll show you how much in various gestures.
He loves letting you take “some” control, that’s why he encourages you to use him, sit on his face. He won’t let you do all the work though. He may be gentle, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take his time appreciating you at his own pace.
His hands guide your hips, swaying them back and forth as he peers up at you with concentration. The taste, the way you whine above him sets him off…
If you tease him enough though he’ll definitely be a bit more stern when it comes to eating you out. Instead of giving you the satisfaction of control, he’ll have your hips firmly lifted over your head, giving him room to lick the side of your folds with a longing grumble.
“Be still, I’m not done.”
He’ll have you above him cumming for hours. You’re worried he’s going to suffocate? Please, he can handle it.
LIFEWEAVER
The sweetest eater here.
Niran’s motive isn’t just to make you feel good when he’s eating you out, it’s to make you feel safe and worshipped from his touch.
He can go down on you any time of the day when both of you are in the mood, but he likes to try working the both of you up sometimes. If you’re sleepy after a long day of work, please let him make you feel better, he’ll be sad if you didn’t use him for your own benefit.
Niran loves to hold you while going down on you, but his favorite position is definitely you sitting on his face. He loves letting you take control of the situation, loves letting you grind your hips into the plush of his cheeks as he gives full attention to your clit. His eyes practically light up when you agree to sit on his face.
He’ll look up at you with drunken intimacy, totally intoxicated by your scent and the softness of your shaky body as you ride out your first high.
If you get too tired, don’t worry, he’s here to catch you. Niran won’t let you rest until you’ve cum at least twice, he wants to work you out, prepare you for his dick that’s aching in his pants. He just wants you to be comfortable and open for him.
“Shh—“ he coos lightly into your thigh, giving it a wet kiss before diving back into your plump folds. “Shhh, I know, I know..let it out. That’s it. My pretty girl—” you nearly collapse onto him as he sucks the side of your clit, rolling his tongue under “doing so good f’me”
REINHARDT
Reinhardt is a pure gentleman whenever he goes down on you. He’s strong, and he knows it, so he likes it whenever you choose a suitable position for him to cherish you in. You want to sit on his face? Go ahead, he won’t stop you. But if you had to ask him what his favorite position is—it’s whenever your thighs are between his large palms, grasped in his tight hold as he throws them over his shoulders for better access to your pussy.
He’s slow whenever he tastes you, allowing himself to dwell on the musky flavor with appreciation. He’s also an experienced man, so he knows the best way to lift you up to your peak is by taking it slow.
You feel EVERYTHING he gives you because of his slow, tender pace. The mix of his tongue with your slick feels sensual and loving, exactly how he likes it.
He’s a bit greedy too. Even after you've had your first orgasm, he’s already splitting you apart on his fingers to open you up for him. His tongue dances around your clit as he whispers soft prayers of dedication into you.
Once you’ve cum at least twice he’ll reward you with his cock, slipping his damp fingers from your heat as he rubs his member across your highly sensitive folds
“You want to take control now? How pleasurable…”
SOMBRA
Hear me out, but Olivia loves seeing you tied down. Her playful attitude always pops up in the bedroom, and you’re happy to let her be herself around you.
She knows when you’re in the mood most times. She checks your phone every other 5 hours. Not because she’s controlling, she trust you, truly, but she gets bored. It’s fun to her whenever she hacks her way through your phone to see you touching yourself from the front camera, or seeing you read a risky story online. She’s almost offended you didn’t ask her directly that you wanted some attention, but she’ll gladly give it to you.
You’re startled as slim hands sneak their way up your thighs from under the plush cover, spreading your legs apart before a long tongue shimmy’s its way up your tight entrance.
“Why didn’t you—“ she pops her lips over your puffy clit, squeezing your chubby thighs in her grasp “tell me you needed some attention? Is it because you like the idea of me watching you?”
She’s at your pussy for what feels like hours. Your inner thighs were drenched in your arousal. You struggle to remove yourself from the tight restrictions she pinned to your legs , but it didn’t budge, it never does.
“Ask me next time, maybe then I won’t be so cruel”
JUNKER QUEEN
Is a lover for semi public sex
She loves the idea of having a bit of risk during intimacy, and you happily follow her lead. The adrenaline rush makes everything feel way more sensitive. She wouldn’t let the two of you get caught, but today she was feeling more risky than usual.
It started out like every other time, you both were lingering on one another, you kissing down her neck as she grinded your hips into her thigh before connecting her warm mouth to your own.
It never went further than the two of you sneakily fingering each other in a quiet part of Junker Town, but she wanted to try something new.
“Yeah, love, turn around for me, there you go.”
You’re begging no one turns the corner..it was much easier to hide when you both were in each others pants, but this was way more intense. But it felt good, you didn’t want her to stop.
Your lips tremble as Odessa’s warm appendage licked its way across your heat before nestling itself in your tight hole. Her hands held your hips steady. You heard footsteps, crowds, laughter, and the only thing shielding you away from it all was this shallow street corner.
Odessa lifted her head, licking her chin “each time someone walks by you get tighter, you enjoying this that much?” You whine, and she answers your plea by nuzzling herself back between your soaked thighs.
PHARAH
You always test Fareeha’s patience. She’s strong, she gets it, but do you have to ogle at her each time she puts on a tank top or work out shirt? Can’t you be more direct about what you want?
You’re always watching her train, watching how sweat drips down her gorgeous features in awe and appreciation. She knows you admire her hard work, and it always softens her heart to see you so interested in her duty as a soldier, but did you think she wouldn’t notice your distracted gaze on her body?
She’s tired after work, she always is, but whenever she sees you waiting for her in your car she practically melts. You made her feel safe, and she can’t wait to thank you for all your support when the two of you get home.
It starts out light, a shower and slow massage to her aching body, something you normally did for her when she’d get off, but this time she wanted to appreciate you.
She holds your wrist, lowering you onto your back as she sighs softly about how beautiful you look underneath her before her hands are massaging the fat of your thighs, urging them open for her gaze alone.
She’s gentle, so, so gentle with you as she takes her time working you up for her. She licks the sides of your folds before lapping her tongue between your slit, trying to get a whimper off yelp from your puckered lips. Her arms grip your thighs, trapping them in her hold despite your shy protests.
“No, angel. Let me appreciate you tonight, ok?”
VENTURE
Sloan loves cockwarming you after a long day. When the two of you settle down after work in your shared apartment on the couch, they can’t help themselves from sliding into your pussy while you’re fixated on a movie. It’s so common now that you don’t even bother to put on underwear anymore after a shower.
They love when you wear a nightgown or t-shirt to bed, it gives them easier access to your body and you look adorable in it, so how can they resist? Once you’re done with your movie, work or resting, they’ll whine in your ear about how you’re not paying attention to them, thrusting themselves up into you while holding your waist.
“You always ignore me, do I not feel good inside you?” They’ll fill you up to the brim, bringing you to the clouds before slowly pulling you back to Earth on their thick cock.
And when you finally do cum? They’ll be over you in seconds, licking and sucking your clit down to your messy hole to “clean you up” as they’d say.
Their hands are strong, they claw into the dirt so they’ll have no problem holding you still as they devour your inner body. They love tasting themselves on your pussy, it just reminds them who you belong to.
LUCIO
Another risk taker.
Whenever he’s due to perform at one of his concerts you make sure to wear his “favorite” outfits. Ones that he can’t keep his eyes away from. You look good in anything, but whenever you show up backstage wearing his favorite getup like the beauty you are, he can’t help but blush.
He’s a gentleman, he’s immediately pulling you to a quiet corner backstage so he can lavish you with compliments. He’s kissing your face all over, cursing you silently under his breath from how beautiful you look. He's absolutely devastated that he has a show, if that wasn’t holding him back he’d be under you in seconds, making you cry his name with his tongue.
Once his show is over he’s absolutely pent up with need. His mind's been dedicated to you all night, and when he gets his hands on you, it’s game over.
You can’t whine or even think straight, you can’t even beg for me, not here. Lucio has you trapped in one of the backstage closets, his mouth making out with your sloppy pussy as crew members roam the halls just inches outside of this thin door.
You cover your mouth, eyes watery as he makes you cum a second time in the span of minutes.
“Shh, I’ll be slow, let it out”
MAUGA
Mauga is a menace between your legs. Whether he’s fucking you on his cock, using his thick fingers, or fucking you up with his tongue. This man won’t let you take a break between your orgasms.
He’s a big man and he knows how to use his body mass to his own advantage. If he’s going down on you you’re basically pinned at his mercy until he comes up for air. You want to sit on his face? Well you won’t have much control there either. He’s holding your hips down with his massive hands until he’s had his fill.
He loves holding your legs above your head as he eats you out. Not only does it keep you from squirming away, but your hands are pinned under your thighs, leaving no room to try running away from his tongue.
He keeps you under him for a good minute before coming back up for air, whispering into you as you roll your hips into his face. “Just trying to get you ready for my cock, baby. Let out everything you got pent up—that’s it”
He has you seeing stars. The way his mouth practically makes out with your already tired folds, to the way he slips his tongue into your clenched hole, finally filling that aching emptiness with warmth.
You’re practically falling apart as he consumes the very depths of your being, pinching and stroking your clit simultaneously with his mouth “good girl! That’s it!”
RAMATTRA
He can’t eat you out, he technically doesn’t have a real mouth
—but that doesn’t mean he can’t try to replicate the feeling. Technology now is advanced enough to create forms of “life” whose to say that it can’t make a highly realistic sex toy.
Ramattra is already an engineer, so when you tell him about the concept of going down on someone he’s perplexed, confused and slightly intrigued. He knows about sex, he already had a false cock that you practically abuse yourself on, but he didn’t know about other forms of intimacy in the bedroom, not like this.
It’s hard for him to look it up after dismissing your explanation, but he does.
You’re expecting a regular night with your boyfriend, you riding him as he helps you take all of him in, but no, Ramattra had other plans for you tonight. He ignores the confused look on your face, testing the waters before spreading your legs open across his lap, locking your calves behind his thighs. Before you could question him, your mouth parts into an “o”, a soft suction from a black machine in his large hand engulfs your clit, making you moan into the omnics chest.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He pushes it closer to your aching core and you begin to crumble in his arms. You couldn’t close your legs, you were practically at his mercy until his curiosity was filled.
