Thank you, Black people in fandom spaces. Thank you, Black creators and Black lurkers. Thank you Black artists, Black writers. Thank you, Black bloggers, Black influencers. Shoutout to those Black characters, both canon and original. Thank you, Black people, both queer and cishet.
Your perspectives matter. Your representation matters. You are not bothersome for demanding equal treatment in fandom. It is not your responsibility to make fandom more welcoming and inclusive to you. It is not your sole responsibility to create all of the Black-centered content. You are not "ruining" anyone's fun for demanding better for yourself, and anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves. Any fandom worth being a part of should have no room for racism in it.
Black people in fandom, you are wanted. You are needed. You are loved and appreciated. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
And since they don't get told it near enough, thank you, Black women especially!!!
You are not "ruining" anyone's fun for demanding better for yourself, and anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves. Any fandom worth being a part of should have no room for racism in it.
𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ of all the wonders throughout the four nations, only your cool, gentle touch can quell the fire lord’s heat.
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 8k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, husband!firelord!zuko x water-tribe!wife!reader ( blue eyes / brown skin ), canon divergent universe, established relationship, diplomatic marriage, size difference, temperature play, bondage, blindfold play, sense deprivation, edging, handjob, oral ( m!receiving ), reader is very playful ‘n whimsical, cowgirl position, brat taming ( zuzu’s a liiittle mean ), doggystyle, headlock, power play, creampie, slight fire-breathing, small mention breeding kink, use of pet names, explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇.ᐟ ❥ zuko zuko zuko . . . where do i begin! hubby came back bigger, beefier ‘n sexier than everrr <3 my everlasting crush on him has only grown >.< i just knew i had to eroticize him the very second i saw him cuz LORD! zuzu looks like he could fold you in half, pick it up & put it down in five minutes flat ( a girl can dream . . ) overall, i am ever so grateful for this atla resurgence! art credits here! thank you for reading, and please enjoy! ❤︎
𝐼𝒩𝒮𝑃𝒪 𝑇𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒦.ᐟ ( ♫ ) cold sweat, tinashe ⨾ skin, rihanna ⨾ warmth, janet jackson ⨾ say yes, floetry ⨾ i like, kut klose ⨾ baby come close, MoKenStef ⨾ so fine, mint condition ⨾ prisoner, the weeknd ⨾ afterglow, flores
zuko is a man of flicker and flame, both singed and strengthened by the very element he rules. yet, the smoke in his lungs suddenly feels less like fire and more like the banded curl of molten iron.
poor, poor firelord. he’s usually all heat and motion, but this? oh, this is a drowning. it’s the gush of wet, lashing streams, and the heavy press of glacial frost. he is, for lack of a better word, trapped.
he should’ve known that you only wanted to toy with him. he’d felt the intent in the heavy air of your summons hours ago, should’ve known from the — of it; that he was brought here solely for your amusement, the lord of a mighty nation reduced to a plaything at your absolute liberty.
it all began when you first approached him that morning. he’d just emerged— well, more like escaped, from an endlessly grueling advisory meeting. a bundle of scrolls was gathered tightly in one large hand while the other palm dragged tiredly over his face.
that’s when you swept by him, as graceful as the water you bend. you attached yourself to his side, arms looping securely around his bicep. even through the heavy drape of his robes, his arm was impressively thick, deliciously solid. you pressed flush against him, acutely aware of the broad, dense muscle packed beneath crimson silk — all that raw strength hidden under royal finery.
zuko paused, his gaze dropping to meet yours beneath the shadowy fringe of his dark lashes. the faint curve of a rare smile reached his mouth, just as the tight ache in his shoulders melted away upon your touch. he shifted the scrolls to tuck his arm closer to yours, leaning heavily into the sweet, intoxicating draft of your perfume. more often than not, he’s completely yielding to you, letting your warmth drape over him.
“are you here to rescue me, or do you simply wish to distract the fire lord?” he murmured, his voice a low, resonant rumble. you catch the embedded sound of something almost playful.
“oh please, dear. why can’t it be both?” you merely hummed, melting into the furnace that is his solid frame. you loved traversing the palace’s endless halls just to catch sight of your regal husband. what a magnificent vision of royalty he was — adorned in deep mahogany and gold, all broad and powerful with a presence so commanding. your mirthful eyes devoured his sharp, handsome features, tracing the stark border of his crimson scar, framed by rich dark hair that cascaded past his shoulder plates, spilling in silky waves all the way down his back. god, you loved him entirely.
with a saccharine smile, you leaned up on your toes, pressing flush against the breadth of his chest while your soft lips grazed the sensitive shell of his good ear. "meet me in our bedchambers come nightfall," you cooed softly against his jaw, your voice dripping with sweet mischief while your fingers trailed down the rich silk of his sleeve.
"i have a special . . . surprise for you, but only if you're a good fire-lord and finish attending to your duties first."
zuko’s breath hitched, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist to keep you close. "a surprise?" he echoed, his voice dropping into a rough, low register that sent a thrill straight through you. "my love, I . . . you know I have a day's worth of scrolls to sign.”
"then I suggest you read quickly, my lord.” you try to slip away, but he holds you fast, his fastened palm a tether too tight to break from.
"wait — what do you have in store?" he murmured, a desperate curiosity bleeding into his low tone as his towering frame cast a shadow over yours; his mouth just barely grazing your own, catching the lifting tilt of your smile.
"just come, silly," you countered softly, pressing a sweetly addictive kiss to melt the corners of his stubborn frown. "you’ll find out soon enough." was your breathed whisper against his warm skin, letting the words ghost over his angled jaw. you gave his bicep one last, lingering squeeze before stepping back out of his embrace, dreamily drifting away down the sunlit hall.
behind you, zuko stood completely and utterly undone in the middle of the open corridor. the absolute master of fire, now left in a lovedrunk daze — his lips slightly parted, tinted with the residual paint of your favorite hue, while an involuntary flush bloomed rosy-pink across his pale cheeks. you deserted him there, a blushing king caught in the sweet wreckage of a simple kiss.
vitalized by your promise of a surprise and eager to reunite with you once more, he’d spent the next handful of hours tearing through his duties with a fierce determination. he signed the scrolls required of him, and scattered the ones that only proved to be a waste of his limited time; the rest he bound in delicate thread and sealed with hot, red wax.
before finally abandoning his desk, he bound half of his long dark hair away from his face. zuko stood hunched over the basin, meticulously scrubbing every trace of black ink from the ulnar sides of his palms. he wanted his hands perfectly clean, for he knew he’d be touching you tonight— and thoroughly.
. . .
a quiet tension blankets the northern palace, but still, you can hear your husband’s approach from the moment he crosses the threshold of the inner court. his heavy, looming footsteps echo down the polished red-lacquer corridors, drawing close, and closer, even closer; vibrating through the screen walls of your quarters until your chest thrums with the rhythm of his arrival.
zuko walks with an agonizing anticipation, one he can barely hide. every step is a losing battle against the dull ache beneath his imperial belt, a demanding throb that’s grown unbearable after hours of sitting rigid at his oakwood desk. it’s been pooling low in his abdomen since he encountered you that morning — a shameful lust he’d tried to fight off with every scroll he signed. through the thick fabric of his robes, his palm now subtly shifts over the heavy silk, desperately rubbing at his growing bulge.
inside the room, you're practically vibrating atop your embroidered stool, your heart hammering against your ribs as a manic energy buzzes beneath your skin. the soft rattle of the sliding track warns you that he’s here. with a sudden breath, you hastily force your posture to align into an image of serene normalcy just as the door slowly parts.
zuko steps fully into the room, the heavy wooden door sliding shut behind him, sealing the two of you in a sudden, suffocating quiet. thick, electric air blankets the bedchamber, dense with the weight of all your unsaid promises. zuko stands by the threshold, his chest rising and falling beneath his heavy imperial pauldrons.
you turn slightly on your carved rosewood stool, an eager gleam flashing in your vibrant eyes as your gaze rises to meet his in own the reflection of the bronze mirror — his golden eyes are lidded from the weight of the crown, darkened with a bone-deep exhaustion; yet they continue to burn with this fierce, ravenous hunger. in return, he catches the iridescent gleam in your own irises, bright as chilling polar ice.
a knowing smile touches your freshly painted lips, eager azure eyes catching the way zuko’s throat bobs as his line of vision trails down to your body. he knows exactly what you’re wearing beneath that lengthy, translucent cerulean night robe; or rather, the lack thereof. the sheer silk flows effortlessly over your curves, much like the cresting liquid waves of your frozen home. he finds it to be a refreshing distinction from the stifling heat of his world.
he’d touched the frosty surface of your shores almost two years ago, arriving by sovereign ship to the southwestern water tribe. you were a mere princess back then, watching enthusiastically from the shadows as he formally navigated talk of a peace pact with your mother and father, the chieftains of the west. you only knew of the fire-lord through word of mouth, but seeing him in person was ever so different.
from the very moment you laid eyes on him, zuko's stark contrast to your world — honeyed eyes, shockingly fair skin, rugged scar, and vivid red clothes, had you completely enraptured. his domineering, yet calm presence drew you in without effort. you adored the helpless way he would flush a deep red whenever you giggled and waved at him, entirely undoing his rigid, royal posture. nevertheless, your flirting persisted, despite his sheepish reactions and your father’s protective concerns.
one day, speaking up boldly from the back of an icy council room, you had ultimately proposed a much brighter solution for a unifying pact; a royal marriage.
much to his nation's surprise, the fire lord unexpectedly returned from those frozen lands with water-bending royalty in tow. after discovering your shared goals for your peoples, you and zuko chose to bridge your countries and cultures alike in holy matrimony. both your economies have flourished and cross-national peace has ensued ever since the royal coupling over half a year ago.
it’s been quite some time, but you still feel like newlyweds — and you surely consummate like ones.
even now, living deep within a crimson palace and married to the master of fire himself, you fill zuko with a reverent awe. he loves how you wear your ancestral blues and carry your culture with such a dignified pride.
an ethereal woman you are, daughter of the ocean who chose to bind herself to a man of the flame. and looking at you now, dolling yourself up at your luxury vanity, content within his palace you truly made feel like a home, he's desperate for even a drop from your sea.
your husband wordlessly, finally, draws near and closes the distance, enveloping you from behind in a sweltering embrace. his heavy, muscular arms are strewn effortlessly over your shoulders from where you sit. a soft smile blooms on your lips at his sudden presence, quiet giggles slipping past your mouth when he presses a warm, lingering kiss to your temple.
through the glass of the mirror, zuko catches your reflection. his gold eyes soften, completely drinking you in; from your sweet smile, your intricately dark woven hair, to your warm skin and those crystalline eyes that sparkle like rare sapphires . . . you are, without question, the most breathtaking woman he’s ever known. he nuzzles closer, cheek touching yours until there's no remainder of space left between you, both of your gazes locked onto the beautifully reflected image of husband and wife.
“said you had a surprise for me. is that right, my queen?” he coos against your jaw, though his arms tighten around you, all longing and possessive. you return an excited hum, eyes twinkling in the mirror.
“i certainly do! it’s in here . . . hm. well, somewhere,” you swivel towards the drawers of your rosewood vanity to rummage through cosmetic items he can’t even begin to name. he leans over to steal a peek, long dark hair swaying over his shoulder, but you catch him right in the act.
zuko looks ever so precious with his golden eyes blown wide, large hands thrown out in absolute surrender. you almost begin to feel bad; he watches you with such hunger, wholly unassuming of the cruel games you have planned — how hopelessly you’re going to tease him into submission until the break of dawn.
“no peeking, my lord!” you tease, a playful push against his bicep guiding him around. zuko complies with your touch and shuffles the other way, helpless against the subtle flutter of anticipation brewing low in his belly.
you turn back to your drawers and resume the search, rifling through perfume bottles and jewelry cushions of all sorts while your voice softens into sweet instruction.
“you’ll have to do something for me, zuko.”
“please, my sweet . . . haven’t I already done what’s required of me?” he audibly groans, a breathless plea as he fights the growing urge to steal a glance. a quiet laugh escapes you at the rare, unguarded youthfulness he only ever reveals in your presence. a tender ache swells in your chest at how he allows his entire guard to drop in your hands.
“those scrolls? please, my love. that’s what the nation requires of you,” you unceremoniously discard the contents of your drawer, sending a careless flurry of trinkets tumbling out into the open.
he swiftly dodges the chaotic rain of your belongings flying by. a jade hairclip cutting through the air, a heavy paddlebrush following close behind — and then, in a flash, the mesh slip of a red, translucent lace. a sudden memory hits him, forever seared into the deepest crook of his mind; him peeling that very pair off of you with his teeth just a fortnight ago . . .
“what i expect from my husband is quite a bit different.” you lean into the word with a certain pride, making zuko’s heart skip a fierce, joyous beat. a wave of devotion washes over him; he's more than proud to bear that title for you, proud to hold you as his treasured, although entirely demanding, wife.
you've always been a particular woman, one of specific tastes, and it’s a beautiful puzzle zuko delights in solving. there's a secret, intoxicating thrill he gets in meeting your standards — to provide your every need, protect your joy with his life, deliver exactly what you desire and know he got it right.
he hangs on the silence between you, feeling the sudden shift the moment your breath catches in a soft, triumphant 'ah-hah! '
“zuko, my dear . . .” you sweetly begin, rising from your seat and keeping the mysterious surprise safely tucked behind your back. the long, elegant sway of your regal sleeves drapes around you like that of curtains, hiding it all the more. he sways sideways, trying to peer past the silk and catch a glimpse, but you tilt playfully and dance along with him — a brief, silly game you cut short with a soft command:
“disrobe.”
his single right brow lifts, a playful ember dancing in his golden eyes as he observes in your expression. he finds no hesitation.
“you want me to . . . undress?”
“swiftly, please.”
a rich laugh vibrates in his chest, tickled by the sudden authority in your voice. ever your willing subject, he begins to shed every heavy layer piece by piece; unpeeling his garments and letting the royal finery pool around his feet one by one. intimacy with you isn't something zuko shrinks from, no — he craves it, a sweet but rare indulgence that comes only in stolen hours between the endless distractions of ruling a proud and zealous empire.
your eyes glisten, lingering on the display as he unburdens his shoulders. the heavy pads drop, then he unties and parts his thick robes. zuko sheds the weight of the crown until he stands in nothing but simple trousers and a loose, unfastened vest of deep garnet lined with a gold-spun trim. his biceps knot and flex as his fingers catch the hem to pull his arms out the sleeves, and that’s just when your hand reaches out to stop him.
“that’s more than enough. you’re doing good, zu. now, sit on the bed.” you take pleasure in his absolute obedience as he plops down at the edge of the frame, his weight sinking into the edge of the mattress. your voice drops to a teasing murmur as you deliver the final rule:
“close your eyes — and don’t you open them!”
trapped in the dark and blind to your movements, zuko relies entirely on the sounds bleeding into his good ear; the whispered rustle of your airy clothes, the quiet scuffle of your feet as you slip into his blind spot. then comes a touch — a cool, frictionless material of some sort loops around his wrists before the tension pulls tight, his pulse jumping against the fabric as you knot the tail-end to the wooden bedpost. satisfied, you wind the red silk around him, binding him entirely to your whim.
“okay, zuko. now you can look.”
fluttered lids part to reveal his golden gaze, peering down as the world comes back into focus. a breath hitches in his throat at the sight of the rich crimson binding him to the frame.
reflexively, he gives a sharp, disbelieving tug at the fabric, a stunned laugh slipping past his parted lips.
“what is this?” he breathes, his voice a bewildered rumble as he looks from the red silk up to you.
“remember my dress fitting the other day, love?”
“I, uh . . I believe so, yes?” zuko stammers, but his answer is more of a question within itself. a helpless flush stains his cheeks while his mind scrambles, wondering what on earth a simple fitting could possibly have to do with the trap of silk biting into his wrists.
for months, the bitter court officials had bled their grievances into the palace halls, viewing your constant wearing of blue as a slap to the throne, an insult to the nation itself. you've heard their whispers; that your water-tribe attire is simply loud rebellion, a stain on the fire lord’s court. to appease the crown, you gave them their compromises — wearing their scarlet silks to grand meetings and vibrant festivals, but your daily wear remained with the colors of your home.
when their nagging finally became too loud to ignore, you stepped into the fitting they had arranged, letting them attempt to mold you into a ‘ proper ’ fire-lady. under the cinch of their measuring tapes, you found a secret comfort knowing that zuko not only loved you, but worshipped the ground you walked on, irregardless of the threads on your back. if anything, he preferred the blue, captivated by your beautiful stubbornness they could never burn away.
“so, they had the most dazzling assortment of silks, just marvelous. i saw such a rich shade of red, it shimmered like rubies . . . anyway, it reminded me of you! and, well, it obviously gave me other ideas.”
a low, helpless chuckle rumbles in zuko's chest, his golden eyes crinkling with absolute adoration at your sudden rambling. even pinned to the bed frame, he's still entirely captive to the chaos of your charming thoughts, flattered to be the center of them.
“this,” he gestures towards his confines, his bicep tightening as he pulls experimentally against the silk, “is your idea?” a dark ember of amusement flares in his right eye, challenging your authority even as he willingly surrenders to it.
“patience, husband,” you coo, rising to your feet to close the distance between you. “you’ll see.” you bring a thin strip of the same colored silk up to his face, gently drawing it across his brow. the fleeting warmth of your sweet smile is the last thing he catches before all his vision is stolen away — plunging his senses into a blotted world of unintelligible red. trapped in the thick, crimson dark, he settles into his restraints with a quiet sigh.
. . .
that’s how the fire lord finds himself entirely bound — captured effortlessly by the one woman he would never, in his wildest dreams, desire to escape from.
around you, the grand bedchambers glow with traditional finery, bathed in shades of warm orange, pristine gold, and burning red. the drawn-open windows invite the moon’s silvered light to spill through flowing gossamer curtains, blessing your union of water and fire.
but the gentle peace of the night dissolves the moment you shatter the quiet.
still bound to the frame of your shared bed, zuko tests the limits of his confines, a low groan escaping him as he tugs at the fiery crimson ribbon. a restless prisoner, he is, playing into the torment of your game — for a time. he always indulges his darling wife, but only for now. minutes long since passed; several long, countless ones.
and the wait is finally managing to break him. he sits trembling on the edge of the mattress, staring up at you through a hazy, amber-yellow gaze; blindfold long since fallen, and his vest halfway discarded while it hangs over the round of one brawny shoulder. a teasing smile graces your lips as you lean in, catching his lifted chin with the delicate edge of your manicured finger to lock his eyes with yours.
your sweet excuse for trapping his wrists had been that his crowned duties have left him far too tense; and what he desperately needed was to dissolve into your cool touch, even if he didn’t know it himself. but as your fingers drifted from the edge of his chin to settle heavily in his lap, the promise of relaxation shifted into the purest form of torment. the clock has fractured into an unmerciful blur. was it twenty minutes? thirty, forty?
zuko loses all track and meaning of the time that follows. he can't tell, nor can he bring himself to care — not when you spend every agonizing second stroking his weeping cock so painfully slow. you know just when to alter your speed, bringing him to the absolute precipice just to rip it all away.
it was pure torture when the red silk kept him blind to it; you know how much he loves the sight of his fat cock within your dainty hand, almost too thick for your fingers to touch around it. the last ruined orgasm had been paced so brutally fast, skin shlick-ing with every stroke. the wet, rhythmic sound of your hand jerking him off left dull, wet smacks filling the room until his body was twitching — and as he nearly arrived at his peak, the red satin eventually slipped down his face. when you finally locked eyes, he’d almost been crying . . . almost.
“hnghh, no, no, no, please— not again . . i beg you, my queen, just let me cum for you—fuck!”
the words melt into a breathless plea as his pelvis strains upward, starving for even the slightest graze of your palm. his hips give a desperate involuntary buck, chasing the ghosting pleasure of your friction, but you hold the line; hand going completely still.
a dark, heavy whimper vibrates deep in zuko’s chest, a sound so beautifully broken it nearly falters your resolve. but not quite. his climax is ruined yet again, the fifth unmerciful theft of the night, and his entire frame shudders with a deep, aching fatigue as he reaches the absolute limit of your torment.
thanks to your doing, he’s now you in complete disarray — scattered hair falling wildly over his eyes, his sweat-sheen chest heaving with every ragged breath, powerful arms bound to the bedposts at the mercy of your every sinister whim. he can’t fucking stand being unable to touch you.
“i did what you asked,” zuko says bluntly, his voice clipped and raw. his amber gaze burns dark, hopelessly locked onto the sheer blue fabric draping carelessly over the bare expanse of your brown thighs. “I finished my duties . . I am here, yet you tease me.”
“you sound rather impatient, zuko,” you hum, your manicured finger tracing a slow, agonizing circle over the sticky, weeping crown of his sensitive cockhead, delighting in the way he quivers. “tell me, my love . . . is the fire lord begging?”
zuko's jaw tightens, the flexor muscle of his wrists tensing against the silk of his confines. “I w-wasn’t begging,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, raspy lower register. “please, just . . . tell me what you want from me. i’ll do anything, just let me—” he breaks off with a rough swallow, and the words die in his throat.
you let out a content hum, moved by how completely unraveled he’s become, just for you. you slide your body flush against his, letting the cool cerulean silk of your dress drag over his burning thighs. “anything I want, huh?” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss. a desperate nod escapes him, the unraveled strands of his hair swaying with the motion.
“well, i'm about to tease some more, so I need you to stay absolutely still for it.”
a dark realization dawns upon the fire lord; he never knew his darling wife held such a sadistic streak. he silently mourns the countless times he could have made you cum by now.
“thought we'd be . . pleasing one another tonight,” he mumbles, chest heaving. the plush bow of your lips curve into a slow, knowing grin, your gaze dropping to the lewd display of his twitching dick before you reply, “but i’m enjoying the sight of you like this. you have no idea how much it satisfies me, love . . . do you not want to please your wife?”
“hah, you're a sly woman when you wish to be.” a pained, breathless laugh escapes him, his rigid length twitching helplessly between his thighs. the sweltering heat of his blood chills slightly against the open air of the room, a brief, phantom relief. “you know I need more from you.”
“I think what you need, zuko, is to cool down.”
“what I need is to cu—”
“don’t worry, my love.” you cut off his breathless demand with a soft, shushing hum. your palm cradles his jaw as you smooth out his unraveled hair, your lips catching the heat of his skin as you press a kiss to his sweating temple. “I have just the thing.”
in that very moment, you decide to shift the game and draw upon an element of your own. zuko’s no mere stranger to adding a heavy scorch to the bedroom, and the sweltering effect of his bending is never anything you can't handle or easily heal with your own two hands. tonight, you see no harm in turning the tables.
your focus shifts to the nearby glass pitcher, siphoning a liquid ribbon into the air. with a sharp twist of your wrist, the droplets solidify, crystallizing into smooth, firm blocks of ice.
before he can utter a word, you plant the frozen ice against his bare skin with intention. one block rests at the divot of his lighting-scarred solar plexus, and another the subtle dip between his thick, firm pecs, while the third one slides smoothly down the rippled plane of his abs. with a flick of your will, a final piece glides across the delicate ridge of his collarbone. as the ice begins to melt atop his heated skin, the thawed water tracks down his torso, pooling at his pelvis until it drips heavily down his cock.
a full-body shudders wracks zuko's frame as the sudden cold slides down the throbbing length of him. the ice cubes glide over his flesh, weeping condensed streams of melted water that dribble down his muscled form. the natural heat of his body takes over to act as a forge; with a subtle hiss, the water sizzles against his skin, instantly evaporating into a misted steam that lifts in lazy, curled wisps off his bare chest. it's an instinctive reaction — like splashing lukewarm water directly onto lava-hot coal.
“are you cooling down already, husband?”
“hah, please . . did you think it would be— mm, t-that easy?”
as he predicted, the frost doesn't last. the water won’t stand much of a chance against the fever of his skin.
the fever-heat of his skin conquers the cold in seconds, rendering the ice useless against his burning flesh. a slow smile curves your lips at the realization, prompting a sudden shift in your approach; to fight fire with fire. a flame, you might not have, but you can always trade your element for the raw heat of your own body.
dropping low, your robe pools around your ankles as you settle between his parted, muscled legs. your palms anchor securely against the warm caps of his knees, pinning his attention. locking your gaze with his hazy gold eyes, your tongue slowly glides across the tip, collecting the warm salt of his precum as your lips part to swallow him into the pliant opening of your wet mouth.
“— ohhh, fuck.”
beneath folded legs, you feel your clit throb against the heel of your foot in response to the rough moan that practically vibrates straight from his chest and down into your throat. you pull back enough to loll your tongue out, swiping it slow and wet across his reddened, weeping tip. your crystalline eyes are lively, full of mirth as you hold him captive under your stare. zuko’s amber gaze squeezes shut at the sudden onslaught of your tongue, a sharp hiss catching in his throat.
“so naughty, baby . . .” he groans, "gonna keep me here all night, hm? punish me?”
“it isn’t a punishment, zuko,” you break the contact with a soft pop, a sliver of saliva tethering your lips to him. the words leave you breathlessly, trailing off your tongue like the sweet, contoured sound of half a moan. “i jus’ wanna play with you. don’t you wanna play with me?”
“I would if I could,” he manages to choke out, teeth gnawing hard on his lower lip whenever your tongue swirls back under the ridge of his spit-streaked cock. “y—you’re the one who doesn’t wanna play fair. I didn’t tie myself up, now did I?”
you drink in the ragged heave of his chest beneath the garnet vest, the tensive muscles of his forearms bunching hard against his constraints. the sheer intrigue of his submission intoxicates you, and a wicked thrill sparks within you at the thought of it — how delicious it would be to have him whining, crying for you, completely unraveled as he tugs fruitlessly against the red satin.
“I should punish you, now that you mention it,” you muse, drawing back just enough to catch your breath while your palm strokes a slow, wet path down his pulsing dick.
before he can manage out an answer, you dive back down again, burying his thickness to the very hilt until the tip of it hits the back of your constricting throat. you have him swallowed to the base, so much so that your senses are entirely overcome; your husband is the only thing left to taste, to smell, to breathe. a faint, involuntary tinge of smoke permeates the air as his internal fire flares in shock.
“shit! you’re s—so bad,” zuko heaves, his muscled arms straining powerlessly against withering ribbon.
“am I?” you wipe a wet shine of moisture away from your plush, spit-streaked lips with the back of your hand, rising slowly to your feet. zuko’s darkened gaze follows you, his heart hammering against his ribs as he realizes exactly where you’re steering this game. you had already unburdened him of his trousers and reduced him to that open vest, and now you're matching his nakedness with your own.
slowly, you unloop your robes and step out of your soft blue silk, letting the cerulean fabric carelessly drop away. you step onto the mattress to mount him, completely stripped— your legs throwing themselves over to bracket his wide, meaty thighs as you straddle his lap, the your bare mound of your cunt sliding a mess of arousal over the hardness of him, cock jumping at the brush of hot, wet skin.
“you are troublesome, wife,” zuko manages out through grit teeth, his jaw dropping as his head tilts down to watch the exact moment you sink onto him. you settle over every wide, throbbing inch until you've taken the entirety of him into the tight, melting warmth of your creamy cunt.
“hngh, and you should . . . s—stay still,” you mewl, your teeth sinking into your own plush lip while your nails dig deep crescents into the solid breadth of his broad shoulders.
you lift yourself up, slow and agonizingly careful, before letting gravity drop you back down onto the raw entirety of his length. a shared moan tears from your throats at the impact, your bodies pulsing deliriously around one another. zuko has always been a massive stretch, so you shift into slow, shallow rolls of your hips, taking in the immense width of him until the initial, stinging burn begins to ebb away.
“untie me.”
“mm— noooo, zuko . . .” you both know that entirely defeats the purpose.
“can’t believe you’re— fuck —doing this to me,” zuko groans, his patience finally shattering as he rocks his hips upward beneath you. the sudden, deep shift of his length inside you forces a pitched whine from your throat. he's reached his absolute limit, both with these confines and his own composure — starved of your touch, driven mad by the sight of his beautiful goddess of a wife bouncing on his cock while his hands remain pathetically, incapably pinned.
glaring down with pure disdain at the obstacle of fabric cutting into his straining wrists, the fire lord decides that your lengthy game is over.
with carefully exerted bending, he coaxes just the slightest spouts of fire out of his warmed palms, letting the heat of a focused spark catch onto the crimson silk until it begins to catch in flames.
you're so caught in the intensity of riding him that the change goes unnoticed, until the scent of smoke reaches you; fire. your eyes snap open to see the speckled remnants of inflamed fabric and ash dissipating up into the air in burning, golden specks.
“z—zuko!” you whine, just as he rubs his wrists where they were bound. an anxious laugh leaves you once the realization settles in; the constraints are gone, and he's no longer bound by your rules. now that he’s freed, you know he’ll have his way with you. when you meet his eyes, it concludes that the game is over, and he’s won. he peers at you with a dangerous, burning hunger, like that of a fucking predator.
“what shall I do with you . . .” the fire lord muses, “now that i’m free?” you aren't able to argue, or comply. there simply isn't any time.
he loops a strong, thick forearm around your waist, pulls you flush to the solid wall of his body, full breasts squished to his broad pecs, your peaked nipples grazing his chest in a way that makes you shudder against him. he tightens his hold around your middle, hot fingers stroking down the curve of your spine.
then, the roots take hold with a searing, digging grip.
“start bouncing.”
frozen by the shock of his freedom, you hesitate — and your husband immediately claims the movement to take absolute hold of you. his hot fingers cling to the soft flesh of your waist, and he wastes no time lifting your hips, hoisting you up only to drop you back onto his erect cock.
the loudest moan of the night slips from your throat — a bruised, sweet thing that sounds something like a whine, and half like a wail. it's pure nectar to him, so saccharine to him. zuko leans into the sound, aiming to pry out so much more.
he sets a brutal, drilling pace from beneath you, bucking upward to crash against the rise and fall of your pliant body, all as his hands slink up to give your bouncing breasts a thorough squeeze. his firm hips piston up to meet you with relentless, driving thrusts as he forces your weight to slam down hard against his own.
all you can do is cry out through every heavy drag of his fat cock within you. a vulnerable whimper escapes your lips, arms looped tightly around his neck, fingers dig frantically into his skin for any semblance of an anchor while the girth of him stretches you out with every upwards surge of his tilting hips. your tongue lolls out to trace the slick heat of his throat, dragging slow and wet up the line of his perfect jaw. you press your lips against the thick vein pulsing in his neck; pulled taut from all the raw energy he exerts into fucking himself deep inside you.
“you win . . . fu—fuck, zu, y-you win,” you whine, the globes of your ass jiggling helplessly against his pounding. “zuko, p-please, too fast— you’re too fast, my love . . . i can’t — hngh!”
a dark, gravelly laugh vibrates right against your throat, his hot pulse hammering against your chest. “oh, no. you don't get to call a timeout,” he grunts out, a rough, commanding rumble that cuts straight through your whines as he watches your face unravel — lips agape, eyes welled up with precious tears. his thick forearm locks tighter around your waist as his pelvis crashes up into yours with unmerciful force, giving you absolutely no room to breathe. “you wanted to play, yes?" more than anything, he'd consider it provocation.
"so don’t scream for a 'slow down' now — take it. it's all for you.”
before your lungs can even claim their next breath, zuko slides out of you entirely; having decided you deserve it much rougher for the constraints you placed upon him. a small pout touches your lips at the sudden ache of his absence, but the fire lord pays your frustration no mind. he's far too focused on delivering the consequences of your little stunt.
effortlessly, his heavy palms flip you over and guide you flat onto your tummy — your lower back dipping into a sharp, deep curve that hoists your hips high into the air; the most perfect arch. left exposed and shivering with anticipation, your ass impetuously wiggles against the heavy bob of his waiting erection, desperate to feel him. a low, raspy chuckle vibrates in his throat, deeply satisfied by the hunger that now consumes you; just as it did him.
“you want it? huh?” he lilts, his breath hot against your skin as he deliberately presses the crown of his cock to your opening. instead of sinking inside, he slides around your fluttering pussy, dragging the thick, veiny underside over your rear.
he taps the sticky crown of his cock against the soft flesh of your supple ass cheeks, a deliberate, maddening friction that denies you the very thing you're begging for. a dry laugh catches in his throat as your posture shudders utterly reveling in the sweet, broken whines that spill past your lips at the torment. maybe now you'll get it. you're only feeling a fraction of what you put him through.
“n—need it so bad, d-don’t tease, husband . . .”
“of course, my sweetness.” his voice is a low, deceptive whisper right before his hips crash forward. it's downright mean, how he pushes inside you with a sudden, ruthless depth. zuko stuffs every last inch of him to the absolute hilt, done so viciously that the air is knocked clean from your lungs. your chest heaves against the mattress, voice cracking into broken, stuttered pieces as his name shatters throughout the room, like that of a priceless gloss vase.
“zuko, s’deep — y-you’re so . . so deeeeep,”
“hm . . what was that?” zuko murmurs out feigned ignorance, his wide palm flattening against the small of your back to enforce a deeper, sharper curve to your spine. the visceral slap of skin on skin rings out like thunder with every punishing smack, a lewd tempo that fills the grand bedchambers — a thick, sweltering sound so loud you're certain the advisors and palace maids a world away could easily track the . . . scandalous nature of your night.
“zu—zu-ahh . . z—ukooo!”
“is that how you properly address your husband?” he taunts, his voice a low rumble as he bites back a growing smile. the damp end of his tongue flits out, lazily running across the edge of aligned teeth, “how you address the fire lord?”
“p-pleaseeee—” before the word can fully escape you, zuko answers your whine by stalling his momentum, feeding you long, agonizingly slow strokes. with every deliberate thrust, your body is throttled forward, melting deep into the crimson bed as you lose all coordination. a helpless sob catches in your throat, your drooling mouth agape against the mahogany bedding as you take the full, thick mass of him in slow motion, his damp skin dragging within yours. his pelvis presses hard against your ass, the heavy stickiness of his balls tapping your puffy slit
“d-do . . . mmph, wh—whatever you want." you exhale through a whining plea, weight sinking into the foam of the bamboo mattress. maybe if you appease him, stroke his ego, he'll take it easy on you. "p-punish me, zu . . . please, jus' punish me.”
“and get you off so quickly? impatient little thing,” he only tsks, his hand comes down hard against your backside. the reddening sting forces out your small gasp. “you're not cumming until I deem it fit.”
zuko shifts his weight, sliding his stance closer until his torso pins your back flat against the mattress. leaning his upper body forward over your shoulder, his arm snakes around to trap you by the sensitive curve of your throat. he loops the thick, solid crook of his elbow right beneath your chin, pressing the rounded meat of his massive forearm against your windpipe.
with an deliberate flex, he brings about a deliciously suffocating squeeze. your throat is locked tight in the vice of his strength, constricting your oxygen until your lungs begin to burn hollow from the desperate lack of it. unable to draw a clean breath, every heavy push of his length inside you makes him feel twice as thick.
the room spins into hazy blur, making you acutely aware of how his unhurriedly he drags inside you; stretching you out in agonizing slow motion while you choke out muffled, desperate whines against the crushing authority of his arm.
he fucks into you slowly from behind, his large frame completely curled over your spine while he holds you trapped in the thick vice of his headlock. you helplessly muffle your whimpers and drool all over the solid breadth of his meaty, flexing bicep. from above, the fire lord ignores the chaos of the room to simply stare down at your face, a wave of profound adoration breaking across his features for third time today, because you belong entirely to him — his pretty, precious baby.
“that’s what it takes for you to act right?” zuko huffs out an incredulous laugh, “you’re finally being so good, love . . . taking me so fucking well.” the words are thick with an intoxicating pride as his warmed breath dusts your cheek. never does it come with one, but without warning, his palm delivers another sharp, loving smack to your right cheek, leaving a trailing sting that audibly sizzles against your damp skin. before another sound can fully leave your throat, his lips drop lower, a searing kiss pressed possessively to the very base of your neck, the curve of your spine, the crown of your hair. in every aspect, he consumes you.
you're balanced precariously on the absolute edge, and zuko can tell. your vision begins to spot, your entire frame stringing tense and your mind going beautifully dumb the exact moment you finally release your sweet, gushing juices all over him. eyes brimming over with heavy gemmed tears, he fucks you thoroughly through the crash of your orgasm; rocking deep into the stubborn squeeze of your convulsing pussy.
zuko's rigid and twitching inside you, his amplified volume matching the gradually careless rhythm of his thrusts. a rough groan tears from his throat as he openly relishes the slick, heavy friction of his veins dragging wet and sloppy from deep within your walls. even with the lingering shock of your own orgasm, it's clear to you that he’s soon to follow suit. truthfully, you're amazed that he managed to hold out up until now; though, not for much longer.
“you’re being so good to me, sweetness . . . letting it all go just for your husband, cumming all over me . . . ooh, you’re making me feel too fucking good, can’t hold back anymore — i'm next, my love, m’right behind you — fffuck.”
you can feel the very heat of his seed flooding your inner walls as he cums hard and deep, muttering jumbled obscenities out into the humid air. misted puffs of smoke curl past his agape lips along the calls of your name. his hips give a final, desperate jerk, his throbbing cock spouting thick ribbons of white until he’s completely drained himself inside you.
his chest heaves, glistening in the low orange lighting as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting to trace soothing, balmy circles over the flesh he so ruthlessly manhandled. a quiet moan escapes your lips, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch releases your strung muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly stretched begins to settle into your bones.
you give a small, helpless whine when his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot, his touch a tender mercy. you know, of course you do that you are covered in the visual evidence of his hunger, but you choose to pay the marks no mind until the sun rises. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are far too used to seeing the fire lord’s signature handprints painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.
his chest heaves in the dark as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting from manhandling to tracing soothing circles over the skin of your body he so ruthlessly possessed. you let out a soft, trailing moan, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch unties your muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly filled and stretched, in all those creative positions, begins to settle into your bones as a sweet fatigue.
a small, sharp whine slips from your lips when zuko’s calloused thumbs knead an especially tender spot. you know that he's ravaged you. you probably look as undone as you feel, and it's going to be painfully obvious for anyone looking at you to tell. though you can't yet see the crimson marks he left in his wake, you've already decided those are tomorrow’s problem. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are already far too used to seeing the fire lord’s permanent signature painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.
“i'm sorry, love . . i'm so sorry,” zuko whispers into the crook of your neck as he continues his slow massage, his touch smoothing over the marks he left behind. “just can’t control myself when it comes to you, my queen.”
“mmmnn . . . it’s, ah . . s’okay,” you slur against the mahogany bedding. a thick, post-orgasmic drowse claims your senses, your eyelids fluttering wearily the last of your strength dissolves into the sheets. he’s truly managed to unburden you of every last ounce of your energy.
tenderly, zuko rolls you onto your back and gently cleanses your skin, taking a soft handcloth from your drawer to wipe away any slick evidence of love-making; even as the dark temptation to stuff himself back inside your sweet pussy and keep you plugged with his dripping cum starts to become a greater urge. zuko fights it, deciding he can save the intention of impregnating you for another, more purposeful night — that is, if your womb hasn't already . . . taken his heir after the dozens of positions he molded you into all in one night.
a feather-light kiss grazes your forehead, tender and warm, just before the red covers are drawn up over your shoulders to ward off the chill. zuko watches you drift into slumber, a soft chuckle escaping him as you mutter a sleepy, incoherent complaint about the 'unfairness' of him being able to melt away your icy defenses. settling into bed, he spoons you close, wrapping his thick, strong arms around you to keep you snug against the solidity of his chest.
“rest while you can, love," he whispers adoringly into your hair, smelling of rich imported oils, a tinge of his own smoke, and the salt of your sea. "because when the sun rises . . . i’m taking my turn with you and that ribbon.”
Sukuna and Choso are your roomies and they do not understand the word privacy! constantly just walking in while you're taking a shower, taking over your bed - If they're gonna be that way, you could at least get backshots, but no! They'd rather play Mario Kart and manspread with you on the couch. Sukuna keeps throwing you off rainbow road, (rude!) which leads to your own revenge - cucking him.
pairings - choso x reader x sukuna
warnings- fingering, lots of titty worship, nipple sucking, edging, making Choso whimper, cucking tf outta Kuna in a pink chair lol, petty reader (I luv her) yandere tendencies (both boys) p in v sex, creampie, cum swallowing, ragebaiting kuna -4k
this was a commission for my baby @martianzmars ahhh this is like our fourth one!? I luv u sm!!! - pt 2 here!
art is from @/679sora on IG
Sukuna and Choso are by far the most annoying roommates a girl could have – constantly in your space, always eating all your favorite snacks, not allowing you any privacy. Shower? They’re standing in the damn bathroom talking to you, thinking you can masturbate in peace? No, they wanna come hang out in your room all the time!
Not just in the apartment either – no, they don’t even let you go anywhere without them, the couple times they have they’ve come to the parties and made sure they were on either side of you, fending off any of the men. Aside from work and classes they’re not in, the two men tag along anywhere – up to and including getting manicures.
It was pretty cute to see them get their nails painted black, and how ticklish they get when they’re getting pedicures – but to have no alone time? To have no girls nights out, no they go to those too, heaven help if a guy maybe tries to talk to you, the two of them make sure anyone who is brave enough to approach is sent off running.
You love having them around, even when the two giant men just take over your entire bed, big ass arms all heavy and weighing you down when you wake up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind that if either of them used their cocks that were pressing on either side of you, but no they just snuggle you closer, leaving you soaking wet and aching, unable to use any of your toys in peace.
Menaces, they’re menaces.
Choso is an adorable menace, a sweetheart – but menace nonetheless. Sukuna was more outspoken with how insane he was, he lived to fuck with you, once he thought it would be funny to hide your dildo collection you’re so proud of. You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, until he groveled and bought you a brand new one for your addition.
Little did you know – Sukuna had it moulded to fit his cock exactly, the thought that you were getting stretched out by his shape made it even sweeter when he heard your soft little whines. When he’d jerk it in his room, groaning and tilting his head against that wall like a pervert.
Sometimes he’d use your panties to cum, he loved when you couldn’t find them and got all upset – he even took your scrunchies because they smell like your shampoo. Okay maybe Sukuna’s a bit obsessed with you, but is Choso much better?
No, he’s not, Choso is just a little sneakier, thinking of fucking you and jerking it when he’s in the shower and you’re talking to him, trying to muffle his moans as he pictures you right on your knees.
Not that you’re aware of any of it.
Even now, they’re smushing you between them on the couch, manspread thighs against your own, you never get any space with these two.
“Hah, i’ll throw your ass right off rainbow fucking road,” Sukuna’s grinning like the psycho he is when he nudges your cart, your cute little Yoshi flying off.
“Ugh, you dick!”
“Sukuna,” Choso sighs and shakes his head. “Stop throwing her off.”
“Stop throwing her off,” you smack him with his mocking tone, getting back onto the road and speeding up. “Hah!”
“Not again!? You’re such a jerk!”
“I’ll avenge you angel,” Sukuna rolls his eyes when Choso runs Sukuna off the road, and his bowser goes flying, you snicker in laughter as Sukuna crashes out.
“Choso, my hero!”
“I’ll come fucking get the both of you,” Sukuna’s locked in, brows lowered – far too close to you now as if the couch isn’t big enough for him, his biceps flexing in a concerning ass way that makes you stop driving. “What brat, ya done?”
“I um…” you blink and focus once more, in time for Choso to lean forward, his elbow resting on your bare thigh so casually.
Casual.
You’re ovulating and losing mario kart!
“Mnh…”
They both look at you and you cover your face in embarrassment, slick dribbling down your inner thighs – you’re always wet around them but today is too fucking much, how many times a day can you change your panties? You could swear they keep coming up missing too.
“You all right angel?” Choso asks softly, tilting his head and looking at you far too closely, hand on your cheek. “You’re warm! Do you have a fever?”
“N-no,” Sukuna scoffs and yanks the remote from your hands, feeling your head for himself.
“You are warm, brat, better not be sick,” he tilts your chin up and smirks. “You lost big time, hah you suck.”
“Ugh!” You shove at him once more. “You suck! I’m fine!”
You three play another round and Sukuna won’t stop knocking you off, sending your car into a tailspin, you get so damn mad at him you toss the remote on the floor. Sukuna snorts when you cross your arms.
“Looking like a little spoiled brat.”
“I am not! You’re just rude!”
“Tch, can’t even lose a game,” you’re so irritated and so horny you can’t think right now, just glaring at the pink haired menace. “Don’t feel bad, I beat you at every single game, don’t I?”
“Sukuna stop,” Choso sets his remote down, wrapping a protective arm and tugging you against him. “Leave her alone, you’re really being a dick over it.”
“I am competitive, she’s the sore loser.”
“You’re not competitive, you’re being an ass,” you snuggle to Choso now and he blushes, your lips against his neck, tickling his skin.
“Thank you Cho,” you murmur, pressing a kiss, he sucks in a breath, hand tightening at your waist, Sukuna glares at the sight, smacking Choso’s hand right off you. “Hey!”
“You’re mad she’s snuggling to me.”
“Hah, right,” Sukuna stands up now, yanking you off Choso like the big brute he is, you kick at him and he smirks, yanking your ankle. “Think ya can hurt me, brat?”
“You’re the biggest brat there is, Ryomen Sukuna!”
“Wow, my full name – really,” you stick your tongue out and Sukuna bars you with his arms on the couch, making your breath catch. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s not hot and ruining you with his proximity. “Admit you’re trash at Mario cart and I’ll make you feel real good, won’t have to fuck yourself tonight with your dildo collection.”
“Invasion of privacy! No, I won’t admit I suck,” you smack at his arm and then climb right onto Choso’s lap, he sucks in a breath at the action.
“Oh… Oh! Oh,” he’s gripping your waist with those big hands, dragging your heat against that bulge underneath his pants as you move your hips, his eyes darkening. “Hi.”
You giggle a bit at that, moving again, feeling Sukuna tense behind you. “Hi.”
“Get off his damn lap,” Sukuna turns your face towards him, just to get Choso smacking his hand away this time. “I’ll beat both your asses.”
“No you won’t,” Choso murmurs, turning your face to him now, thumb brushing little circles on your hip, making you even wetter. “I’ll make you feel good without you having to say you ‘suck’ at Mario cart. You don’t suck.”
“I can suck,” you whisper, leaning forward and giggling, Choso moans when you kiss his lips, and everything in your living room shifts.
It’s a desperate kiss once Choso gets a taste of you, moaning into your mouth and working your body against him, sucking in a breath, eyes fluttering shut, sucking your tongue in his mouth and rutting up against you. You whine out at it, you could almost cum from just feeling him, one of his hands entangling in his hair.
“Are you really gonna leave me out?” Sukuna asks, flipping you before you can think, now your back is pressed on Choso’s hard chest, Sukuna is kneeling, his hands pressing against your tits. You’re ovulating so bad they’re full and aching, your nipples sensitive when he brushes his thumbs on them. “You’re needy, huh brat?”
“Not for you and your Mario cart cheating tactics, mnh!” He uses a hand to tug up your shirt, your tits spilling out, earning his moan.
“Don’t want my mouth on them?” You can’t say no, not when Choso’s biting your neck, his fingers slipping up your shorts, making your thighs tremble, back arching for more of Sukuna’s touch. “Answer.”
“I am still mad at you, but I’ll let you do that,” he smirks as if he’ll get to fuck you – little does Sukuna know you take Mario Kart very seriously, and you’re planning on making your giant, pink haired roomie pay. “Mnh!”
Sukuna presses you back against Choso, grabbing your tit and wrapping his lips around the little bud, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth, tongue ring clicking against it and earning a soft moan. You move against Choso who whines out in response, cock licking so much sticky pre it’s drizzling against your inner thigh, his finger running over your panties.
“Ngh,” soft moans escape your lips as Sukuna sucks one nipple, the other toyed with by his thumb and forefinger, Choso’s running up and down your slit until you’re dripping wet. “Choso…”
“Even now?” Sukuna scowls and you grin, earning a sharp bite on your tit, leaving glistening teeth marks, you gasp in shock and he grins. “Marked you.”
“Freak,” you grumble, but he’s sucking your other nipple, and your hand finds its way in his pink silky hair, it’s so soft, you tug hard and he grips your tit hard, sucking it in his mouth as Choso toys your clit. “F-fuck… mnh…”
“You’re soaked baby,” Choso whispers, tilting your face to his and kissing you, messy with your tongues dripping saliva. “Like that?”
“Y-yes, ow!” Sukuna bites the fuck out of you again, earning your attention, you yank the fuck out of his hair and make him moan.
“Where’s my attention!?”
“I’m still mad, I already told you,” Sukuna tugs your shorts to the side, seeing how soaking wet you are, panties drenched.
“Already fuck yourself today?”
“Maybe,” he smirks. “Why?”
“Nothing – just that’s my cock.”
“What!?” You shove him hard, he’s chuckling and Choso’s damn near about to bust with how you wiggle. “You did not seriously? Psycho!”
“Bet you loved it,” you did, fuck him. “Could you take it all?”
“No – I mean!? Yep, hah wasn’t that -”
Before you can finish your petty lie, Sukuna’s kissing you, messy and mean with it, tongue ring clicking the roof of your mouth, you’re rocking back and forth, dying for them inside you. If you weren’t such a petty girl, maybe you’d let Sukuna slide his cock inside your cunt, where Choso’s running circles against your slick entrance – but you’re still mad about Mario Kart.
And now he’s making his cock your dildo!?
“You’re batshit insane,” you’re still kissing him though, Choso’s got your clit twitching and Sukuna’s pinching your nipples and rolling them, the simultaneous play is too much to handle. “You c-can’t just… mnh, d-do that.”
“That’s not fair, I wanna make you one,” Choso pouts as he sinks two fingers in your messy, needy cunt, you’re soaking them and quivering, sucking them up so damn easy. “Do you want one of me?”
“I do, stop biting, you dick!” Sukuna’s furious – how dare you give him all the attention when Sukuna is right there, he slips his finger down and Choso pulls his out with a wet pop, sucking on them and moaning.
Fuck he’s hot.
You’re a little lost when you realize Sukuna’s shoving two fingers deep, scissoring them in and out of your hole. “Hah your cunt is already fucked out, you must love my dick stretching your messy cunt out.”
“You w-wish,” your thighs are held up by Choso for Sukuna’s mean fingers to rock in and out of your cunt with loud squelches, your nails press into Choso’s forearms when he grips your tit, squishing it in his hand and rutting that leaky cock right on you. “Close, close… Sukuna!?”
“You thought,” he yanks his fingers out, smirking at the obscene amount dripping, slipping them right in your mouth. “Suck.”
You bob your mouth up and down his knuckles, cheeks all flushed and your eyes dazed, Sukuna moans at the sight, picturing how well you’d suck his cock, as you slip your tongue between those digits. Choso’s already fingering you again, your cheeks hollowed, eyes rolling back.
“I’ll let you cum baby,” he murmurs, Sukuna scoffs – Choso was always trying to ‘please you’ and this was no different, you’re sucking Sukuna’s fingers as his hand grips under your chin, Choso’s fingers making a mess between your thighs as you clamp down. “Go ahead, cum for me.”
“Mmph!” You’re drooling as Sukuna’s fingers go deeper, damn near choking you with them, orgasm making you squirt all over Choso’s lap, drops smacking against Sukuna’s pants, he groans at the sigh.
“Messy lil slut, look at ya, can’t handle a couple fingers?”
“Fuck off, was cummin’ for Choso,” Choso grins, his fingers easing out of your cunt with a messy pop as she keeps spasming, gushing arousal down onto the couch you’re sitting on. “Cho, come on.”
“Come where baby?”
“My room,” you stand and push past Sukuna, whose cock is so hard you can see it pressing out, he winces and has to adjust it when you’re crooking your finger. “You can watch.”
“Watch!? The fuck?”
You drag Choso – dopey grin on his face and all – giggling as you rush him to your room. “Yep.”
“I’m not just gonna watch you…” You’re stripped down right in front of them in moments, and both the boys have open mouths.
Listen, you’ve been waiting to fuck them, and cucking Sukuna seemed apt enough punishment after the shit he was pulling today. Your tits bounce when you turn to Choso, slipping off his shirt and running your fingertips across his tattooed chest, he snatches you up and kisses you, surprising you by how needy he is, you thought he may be shy.
He’s so not shy when he eagerly steps out of his pants, and you see all that white dripping through his boxers. “I am not watching.”
“You sit right there,” you point to your bright pink gaming chair, a big ass flower cushion and a plushy on it, Sukuna’s red eyes narrow – for a moment he does scare you, but not when he throws your plushy and pillow on the ground. “Hey!”
“Fuck off,” he sits in the chair and it creaks under his heavy weight, crossing his arms now. “Well, put on your little show – you’ll beg me to join.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, want all your holes filled,” his eyes drift down the curves of your body, his cock aching so badly he unzips his pants, watching your fucked out little gaze. “Like what you see?”
Who wouldn’t like that thick, veiny cock with the pierced reddened tip? Drooling white as he strokes it in front of you. Your throat goes dry as you consider if you can give him such a punishment, but you smile all mean.
“Admit you cheat at Mario Kart.”
“I don’t you brat!?”
“Then no,” you press Choso down on the bed, he’s tugging his boxers off, his pretty cock smacking his belly button, pre just dripping against that black strip of hair over his cock. “Oh… You’re so ready, aren’t you Choso?”
“Please,” he’s tugging you on him, giving Sukuna a view of your ass, your cunt gliding along Choso’s cock and dripping all over. “Oh pretty…”
He’s got a piercing too, right on his pretty pink tip, you’re running your slit right along it, hands braced on his chest, Choso's mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. You’re whining out when he plays with the other, holding them both in his hands as you move.
“Your titties are so pretty,” he whispers, one hand slipping down to your waist, god he’s dreamed of you but not like this – gliding your cunt right on him? He could lift you and slam his cock so deep, but he also wants to let you tease him, edge him till he can’t help himself. “F-fuck… you’re so wet…”
“Rub it in,” Sukuna earns your laugh, peeking over your shoulder and arching so he has a look of your hole from the back. “I’d fuck you right in your ass first.”
“You would not!”
“Sure would, Choso can have your cunt..”
“I’ll take any hole,” you giggle again, kissing your roomie, his lips plush underneath yours, your nails press into his shoulders as his tip bumps your needy clit. “Ah! Choso…”
“Do you l-like it baby?” You nod eagerly, he’s sucking your tits again, dragging you down hard, his cock leaking more pre – so much he worries he did cum, but it’s still thickening against you. “Wanna fill you up with all my cum. Eat it out of you.”
“Mnh,” you’re leaning up now, gliding faster, watching Choso lose it, bruising your waist, his cheeks dusted with pink.
“You really gonna do all this for MARIO KART!? You’re such a petty little annoying brat.”
You glare and turn around, reverse cowgirl right on Choso’s cock, he’s whimpering and Sukuna’s stroking his cock, his lips parted as he takes in your body facing him. “You’re petty! And annoying, you never give me privacy!”
“Neither does he!?” Sukuna stands, his cock so heavy it’s just hanging, dripping on the pink fluffy rug.
“You’re making a mess, Kuna, all over my rug.”
His jaw sets, Choso’s fingers are pressing harder as he drags you up and down, gasping out. “Like you didn’t squirt on me!?”
“Can I put it in please?” Choso’s completely ignoring your spat – how can he think when he’s so close to being able to slide his cock inside your cute, soaking wet hole?
“Y-yes,” you let him lift you and grab his cock, wrapping his hand around the base, tip slipping in your hole. “Mnh!”
“Oh my god,” he drags you down in one stroke – deep inside – so much your tummy bulges for Sukuna to see, he groans at the sight, Choso lifting you and that mess of slick glistening. “You’re so f-fucking wet, god you feel so good.”
Sukuna’s gripping your hair and bending down as you ride Choso’s cock, ass bouncing up and down, nails pressing into his thighs to keep balance, he lifts your ass up and groans, fingers dimpling the plump flesh of your ass. “Making a whole show, aren’t you?”
You take your hand and swipe your thumb over Sukuna’s tip, licking it off and watching him lose it, only to rock on Choso’s cock more, feeling him hit your cervix, making you gasp out desperately. “You’re so deep, mnh!”
“Swear to god,” Sukuna’s stroking his cock when Choso sits up and puts you on all fours, slapping his heavy cock against your ass, you moan and arch, face precariously close to Sukuna’s cock. “Come on, fuck… just lemme…”
“You can jerk off near me,” You gasp out, a broken little moan spilling from your lips as Choso slams right back in, heavy balls kissing your clit, your head falling back. “You’re lucky to even get that.”
“Fuckin’ brat,” Choso’s groaning as you grip him with your gummy walls just fluttering, he can’t even focus on anything but the curve of your ass like this, the way his tip is pressing your cervix, how full his balls are.
Your thighs tremble, hands gripping the blanket, looking back at him all pretty as he splits you open on his cock. “Ch-choso… f-feels so…”
You break off talking when he shoves in hard, pinning you to him and rolling those hips – god Choso could fuck, you didn’t think he couldn’t exactly but you sure didn’t expect that. He slams again harder, pushing your face until your mouth is almost brushing Sukuna’s needy tip, just that has the six foot five man whimpering.
“Fuck… slutty lil brat,” you’d scowl or stick your tongue out but Choso’s hitting it too good, stretching you right out to his shape with messy strokes. Your mouth is open with your gasps, every stroke of Sukuna’s hand on his cock making your tummy clench any more.
“Y-you’re gonna admit you cheat,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when Choso grabs your shoulder and fucks in so deep it hurts. “Ah!”
“Stop fighting,” he whines out when you pulse around him, leaning over you and gripping your chin, turning you to him. “Just cum, lemme feel it milk me.”
Oh fuck.
You kiss him and let him rail you, as Sukuna has to watch the girl he’s jerked off to fuck his roomate – all because he just had to make her mad. He wishes it wasn’t so sexy hearing the skin smacking and your messy cunt squishing with every thrust, already about to bust like a pathetic loser.
“I’m s-sorry, fuck,” he mumbles, you pull back and Choso chuckles, slamming against you again, pushing you to arch more. “All right!? Shit you’re mean.”
“You’re s-sorry, really? Mnh!” He moans and grips your hair, jerking right in front of your face as Choso snaps his hips hard.
“Perfect cunt just gripping me, god jus’ like th-that,” he’s pussy drunk off you, he can’t help but be happy he’s inside and not in your bright pink cuck chair, or jerking it like Sukuna.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that too, but he’s been fisting his cock to you since the first day you met.
“M’gonna cum,” you whisper now, looking up at Sukuna and moaning, breath tickling the tip of his cock. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes, god just… can I just… cum on your tongue, fuck – I’ll let you win, n-next time just…”
You suppose you’ll take a little pity on him, opening your mouth with your little pink tongue out, letting Sukuna jerk it even closer, strings of puffy cum splattering all over your tongue, your mouth, your chin. It’s fucking filthy having it all over you as your orgasm hits, making you swallow all him up.
“Want me to cum inside your pretty lil hole?” Choso asks, you’re still swallowing Sukuna’s cum when he brushes it on your lips, stroking it so even more oozes from that little slit and decorates your lips.
You nod and arch, your nails now pressing into Sukuna’s thighs, Choso busting deep inside your cunt and all he can get is his tip grazing your damn tongue, he’s so desperate he’s happy for that. He’s groaning as he watches you get filled by Choso’s cum, your fucked out face and your crossed eyes.
“Wanna be inside next,” he mumbles, pulling back and groaning, your nails pressing into the tattoos on his muscled thighs as you tremble.
You’re flooded with Choso’s warmth, coating all your walls as he pulses, thickening even more, tip dragging on your spot over and over, making you both sensitive. “Took all that, so greedy.”
“Mhm,” you whisper, licking Sukuna’s cum off his thumb when he gathers it from your cheek, off your chin, slipping it in your mouth. “You came so much, Choso…”
“What about me you brat!?”
You grin and give him the tiniest kitten flick of your tongue on his tip, watching him jerk from just that. “I’ll maybe forgive you.”
“Maybe? Tch,” Choso pulls out of you with a messy pop, watching all his cum flood out of your hole, pushing it right out and dripping on your blankets.
“Look at all you took,” he plays with the sticky mess, fingering it right back inside and smirking at Sukuna. “I think she likes me more.”
“She does not, she’s just sadistic,” he’d be lying if he didn’t say that turned him on more. He helps you up on your knees, tilting your chin up and kissing his own cum off you, Choso’s kissing up your neck, as you feel him slipping out of you. “Evil little brat. You liked that dildo.”
“Maybe I’ll let you use it on me,” his brows lower as he glares again, Choso snorts against your neck, tugging you closer.
“Use my own dick on you!?”
“Then you can fuck me. If you’re nice.” You turn and straddle Choso again, kissing his mouth, he flicks his tongue and gathers the little bit of Sukuna’s cum off your mouth, moaning.
“Can I at least finger you, or am I still in trouble?” Sukuna pouts kind of cutely, you admit, so you nod, and let him kneel on the bed, fingering Choso’s cum back inside you.
this recent trend of teenagers using genAI chatbots to talk to fictional characters is fucking grim. what you should be doing is roleplaying on private messages with your friends until the lines between you & the characters begin to blur & you develop some very complex & confusing feelings for each other that culminate in a massive fallout you dont have the tools to process nor understand
headcanons on how the attack on titan women eat pussy ╱ mdni, fingering, oral sex, spitting, squirting, mentions of pee, orgasm denial, overstimulation, pussy slaps, facefucking ˚.✦
MIKASA ACKERMAN
She's so calm about it, she approaches your pussy with soft kisses and vibrations low on her throat, knowing exactly how to tease you
She listens to you, the sounds you make, the little whines and how your breath changes depending on where she touches you
It takes her a good ten minutes before she actually eats you out, before that she's kissing your thighs, marking them good and making you as wet as possible for her.
Then she laughs when her fingers slip easily.
When she gets serious, she can be rough, scissoring hard and fast with one hand and abusing your clit with her tongue, not caring about you trying to squirm away because her free hand is enough to keep you in place.
She also loves overstimulating you, going orgasm after orgasm, barely letting you breath. She's obsessed with how boneless and easy to handle you become after the third orgasm, letting her do whatever she wants to you.
She might give you a few pussy slaps after cumming as a reward or as way of keeping you awake.
HANGE ZOE
She loves to experiment with your pussy (duh)
The first time you slept together she denied your orgasm five times just to take notes and the second time she made you cum five time for the same reason.
She loves playing with your clit, using it as a fidget toy, pinching it and twisting it between her fingers.
When it comes to eat, she loves to fuck you with her tongue. She has an awkwardly long tongue that lets her thrust into you very nicely, letting her feel the warmth inside of you
At the same time, her fingers never leave your clit, she likes to try different things with it. There was one time she tried to flick it with her fingers and you had to stop because it fucking hurt.
That's the problem with her, sometimes she doesn't know the things she does can hurt. But when it comes to you, she tries to make sure you're always safe and taken care of.
She loves you messy and even dirty. She insists on eating you out every time you're sweaty or when you confess her that you haven't showered in two days.
SASHA BRAUS
She loves a good full bush, loves to twirl your hairs in her fingers and have to push them aside to find your clit. She loves the tickling in her nose and the scent of your arousal clinging to them.
But when she finds you clit? She's gone. The moment her tongue tastes you, it's very hard to get rid of Sasha
She doesn't eat you for your pleasure, but for hers. Your taste is like cocaine for her, she can't get enough of it.
She's so eager, so so eager. She licks more than sucks, lapping on your juices, slurping and even gagging?? because nothing is enough.
Her aim is to make you squirt and drink it all, she doesn't care what it is or what it's not, she just know that it came from you and that she fucking loves it.
You find her begging for a little treat before missions, for a snack while camping... all codes for pussy.
PIECK FINGER
She's a lazy pussy eater, prefers that you sit on her face and ride it how you like it, using her for your own pleasure. That's what gets her off, you using her like you want.
She grabs you by your thighs, not letting you feel shy about your weight or if you might crash her. She just wants you on her face, coating it of your juices while you ride her nose.
She also pulls her tongue out to add more pleasure to you.
When you think she's not enjoying it for the lack of noise and the lack of movement, you try to get up, only to find her pulling you down again and not letting you get up until you have cum at least twice.
She also aims for squirting so she can feel herself being flooded by you.
ANNIE LEONHART
Oh she's rough and she's nasty. More into fingering and eating, though.
She has the goal of fisting you at some point of her life, right now she only got to four fingers inside of your pussy after a lot of prep and teasing.
She loves you soaked, dripping into her sheets and making a mess. She doesn't care if it's cum, squirt or pee, she wants you to feel wet as fuck.
Her favorite position to have you is on her lap, back facing her and at the same time you two facing a mirror so you can see how she tortures your clit and finger-fucks you fast and rough.
She wants you to be loud, bouncing on her fingers and she thrusts them deeper, curling them just right.
She's also into spitting on your pussy hard against your clit, sending you shivers down your core.
Every time she spreads your legs, you know you're in for a ride.
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 1k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, southern / cowboy!reiner braun x fem!reader ( black coded ), modern au, set in southern liberio, established relationship, oral; cunnilingus, fingering, size difference, use of pet names ( e.g. baby, princess, sugar, mama, papa, daddy, etc. ), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇.ᐟ ⸻ it's been too long since i've written somethin' sweet for my hubby >.< i have been in love with this man for six years now . . wow lol! this came to be bc i felt compelled to write this at 4am just to let the whole wide world know that reiner's the nastiest, most seasoned eater alive ( i can confirm! ) overall, the rei-rei girls deserve a treat! and more is certainly on the way :3 thank you so much for reading, and please enjoy! ❤︎
𝐼𝒩𝒮𝑃𝒪 𝑇𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒦.ᐟ ( ♫ ) kisses down low, kelly rowland ⨾ would you mind, janet jackson ⨾ in + out, dvsn ⨾ tennessee whiskey, chris stapleton ⨾
to reiner, his stubble is nothing but a nuisance.
a coarse, scratchy reminder of the years catching up to him. frankly, he believes the shadowed etch of hair makes him look old; so he ignores your playful insistence, rolls his eyes when you call it ‘mature,’ or worse, ‘dilf-y,’ but wears it regardless.
he has a particular distaste for the goatee that takes root whenever he’s too weathered by life and ranch-handling to reach for a razor. yet, because you love the look of it, he allows it to stay. for your sake, he’s learning to tolerate the grit, enduring the roughness until he can finally see the charm you’ve found there all along.
he gets it now, he truly does. or so he’d swear—when his face is nestled between the warmth of your thick thighs, where the friction of his scruffy face makes perfect sense. it’s a constant, grounding element, something to anchor you once your mind begins to haze, even as he gets his fill and drinks from you.
“r—reinerrr, fuck!”
reiner smiles at that, all wide and charming, and laps up the saccharine juices that trickle out of your cunt until it’s sluicing down his chin. the rougher edges of his angular jaw act punctuates the unrelenting slide of his tongue and the sharp, playful nips he leaves on your warm brown skin. that despised goatee, once a symbol of his neglect, has now become a tool of your undoing. it grazes your thighs with a tickly intensity that makes you squirm, nearly coaxing a laugh from your lungs before his mouth swallows your clit and steals the sound whole.
“hold still, sugar,” he rumbles around the peak of it, suckling at it all slow and thorough until your voice is breaking on the rounded syllables of his name. his large, calloused hand snakes up your trembling thigh until his brawny arm is hooked around it, heavy palm splayed over your tummy to keep you from writhing away from the onslaught of his tongue. every low, thrumming growl of his passes right through your heated skin.
his other hand remains close and somewhat tucked beneath his bare, solid chest, pivoted and drawn tight, wrist flicking as he expertly swipes the pad of his calloused thumb; gently caressing your throbbing clit. it pulses beneath his fingers, cries out for him, for more, so he grants what you wish. reiner gathers himself into the steady alignment of two fingers, pressed close and firm against your heat, to make for a nice, sizable stretch.
you can feel the brush of him gently circling the pads of them around your fluttering hole, touch feather-light before he begins pushing two thick fingers past tight, cinched rings of contracting muscle, easing the digits further into you until your pussy’s squelching—deeper, even deeper, as deep as you’ll allow.
“atta girl. mhm, doin’ so good for me—so fuckin’ good for daddy.” he severs the tether, voice coated in that honeyed southern drawl as he pulls back from your lubricous folds to rasp out sweet nothings, slivered strings connected to his lips.
he rests his head against the soft warmth of your inner thigh, soft-blonde hair grazing your deep skin. when he finally lifts his head up to you, his gaze is a raw, unshielded thing. a deep-rose flush stains his warm ivory skin, blooming across the bridge of his arched nose and deepening over his cheekbones until it reaches the tips of his ears. his eyes, a molten pool of hazel and gold, are lidded low when he peers at you, heavy with the smoke of lust.
he steals just a moment to let his breath settle. all the while, his pumping fingers continue their steady work. “ooh, you hear yourself, mama? fuck. you’re so wet, sugar . . .” reiner croons, and you mewl when he curls them upward just right, hits that pudgy spot you can never seem to reach on your own. his lips tilt into a self-gratified grin once your back bows off the quilted mattress.
“ready to take more? hm, princess?” to that, you whimper softly, just as the tingling warmth of his breath hits your bare mound once again. the continuous rub of his thumb over your small, throbbing bud and his fingers stroking your insides never quite gave you time to ease up in the first place. you relent anyhow. “mm, y-yeah,” you force out past pouted lips, pillowy and slick with escaping drool, “want more of you, papa.”
the pause is all too brief before he dives back in. the perfect arch of his roman nose slides up your folds, sniffing in the intoxicating savor of your arousal, the fleshy tang of your heat, trailing further up to nudge the tip of it against your clit. reiner allows you to take what you need from the moment, lets you set the pace.
he remains obediently still, large hands only ever moving to aid you in the zealous bucking of your hips across his face, desperate for such priceless friction. he yields to you entirely, letting you use him as you wish. you swivel and grind against the grit of his chin, slathering him in the wetness he provoked, claiming every part of him as yours alone.
“thassit, princess. use me, jus’ use me—fuck my face, get yourself off.” he makes a low plea against your skin, tracking the way you tighten over his fingers while your voice hitches into a higher, desperate pitch. you’re undeniably close now, hand clamped over one breast in a taut squeeze while the other anchors a delectably painful grip into the short golden tresses of his sweat-slicked hair, manicured nails grazing his scalp with frantic desperation.
“you ‘bouta cum all over my face, hmm, darlin’? gonna squirt in my mouth?” reiner’s breath comes in short, ragged pants as he quickens his movements, suckling and fingering in tandem, desperate to be the sole root of your release. his tongue lashes over the tight, bundled nerves of your heat as he urges, “say you will, pumpkin. don’t be shy, now.”
“i—mmph . . i will, rei—c-cumming!” he’s never needed many words to command your attention. just a few whispered prompts and you’re giving in, your body shattering over the surge as you release for him; head thrown back, legs folded tight over the broad expanse of his firm shoulders. your chest hitches, caught in the lingering ache of a breath you can’t yet seem to catch.
he captures each pulsing spurt of honeyed cum against his tongue, chasing the stray drops before they can drip down the seam of your ass and seep into the linen below. his nose nudges your overstimulated clit with a rough, wordless hunger that draws a squeal right out of your throat.
reiner drinks you up with a frantic, parched sort of desperation, as if he’s starving for a summer that only you can provide—treating every drop like the final, cooling draught of your homemade lemonade on a scorching day. you taste better than whatever could come out of any pitcher.
reiner holds you there, takes you through the high with his tongue laving over where you’re most sensitive. you squirm and push weakly against the immovable weight of his shoulders. he’s far too strong to be swayed, and now that you’ve had your fun, he’s ready to gather a real, proper taste of his own.
“don’t move, baby—christ, you taste so fuckin’ sweet . . .”
it’s moments like these, when you make his day a bit brighter by crowning his features in the salt-sweet glow of your climax, that the purpose of his stubble finally becomes clear.
i just saw the saddest tiktok in the world that purported “im not like other girls, i dont masturbate because i know it would make disinterested in men forever” baby girl you have to jack off and never talk to a man again im literally begging you.
Thinking about that “white people like the blues just fine, they just don’t like the people who make it” quote from Sinners since it was robbed of the Best Film Oscar.
theartofmadeline
romaincrisis
