Daddys Lil Monster

To what, exactly? Well…

“Zuzu?”

He stills, immediately recognizing that nasally little voice. Not to mention there’s only one person that would call him by that name.

Azula. She practically goes on to nag him, after randomly catching him at some food stall at the night market. 

“You dethroned me just so you could prance around town in a cape?”

Funny enough, she would’ve matched with her brother if she’d just worn her hood. It might be a little risky, but most people wouldn’t know what she looked like, anyway. She could get away with showing her face for the most part. 

Despite the initial whiplash from running into his sister, who’s been missing for well over a decade and is still at the top of the nation’s Most Wanted list, he’s quick to defend himself. 

“I’m not prancing around town,” he grimaces. “And what do you mean dethroned? You were never even crowned.”

“Yeah, because you interrupted my coronation!”

Their sudden quarrel catches the eyes of a few people walking by, along with the old vendor that was just trying to hand him his chicken skewers. Thankfully, everyone’s quick to mind their own in the Silk District. Fights were common enough— just keep walking and you’re sure to be safe once the brawl starts.

It’s as if they were children again, arguing over absolute nonsense. At first it was a dispute over her brief stint as the nation’s first Fire Lady. Now, they’re just throwing accusations at each other.

“Please don’t tell me you’re working in a brothel now,” Zuko grumbles, fully prepared to give her some money so she wouldn't have to be indebted to one. 

“I am not!” she scoffs. “And what are you doing here?! Last I heard, you have nearly twice the amount of concubines Father had kept.”

His eyes widened. Now was not the time to ask what he was up to. It’s not like he can tell her he’s been trying to scope you out all night, so he’s left scrambling. 

“Most of them were gifted to me,” he barely explains, more so stuck on where she heard that from. Azula made it sound like he hoarded them.

She continued to press him. “You never answered why you’re walking around town with a hooded cape.”

“I wanted some normalcy,” he throws his arms out, hoping that’d be enough for her.

Azula raises a brow. “So you go to the sex capital of the world?”

“I’m not here for the fucking brothels,” he suddenly snaps at her, but quickly collects himself as it only made him look guilty. “Sorry. I’m here for work. We’re in the middle of opening a rehabilitation facility.”

“Right,” she blandly says, crossing her arms and taking a moment to stare him down, lost on what else to say. At least she believes him. She would’ve continued to interrogate him, had she not.  

Zuko just looks at her as well. Not meaning to participate in a staring competition as he tried to figure out what about her had changed. Something felt off. 

Then her brows pinch together.

It’s the eyes. 

She thinks she’s glaring at him right now, but they’ve softened. And there’s actually a trace of light behind her golden eyes, rather than the dull orbs demonically possessed individuals often have. The only feature she shared with their father was that sadistic look he’d get on his face whenever someone angered him, yet there was no trace of Ozai in all her visible annoyance. 

All he sees is their mother. 

“So, how’s father?” she asks casually, figuring she might as well ask about the old bastard since he’s here. 

Zuko lets out a disappointed sigh, not bothering to hide how peeved the thought of their father made him. “He spends his days drawing flowers and demanding he be given dignity.” 

She sighs as well, because he just sounds pathetic at this point. “You don’t give into his demands… right?” 

“Oh, no, never,” he says with a reassuring tone. “He’s tolerable for the most part, but there’s periods where he needs more… help.”

His fathers fall from grace needs to be studied at this point. He will scream, cry, break his little board games that he hardly deserved to begin with, and demand new ones. Ozai drew a portrait of him once when he was 21. He was without a scar. It was touching, sort of. Really fucking odd, though. He didn’t exactly listen to his father when he explained the sentiment behind it, but he understood why there would be one. 

Zuko hung around until the servant brought his father dinner that night. Guess what happened when he didn’t allow the servant to give his father a slice of cake with his dinner? 

His father took the portrait down and drew a scar on both his eyes. 

The concept of self-regulation was completely foreign to his father—antagonizing him may as well have been a form of psychological warfare. Which is why Zuko started eating that same slice of cake as he watched his father have the meltdown of a century. 

“Yeah, Father is… Father.”

There was no need to elaborate, Azula completely understood what he meant by that. “Do they still whip prisoners?” 

Zuko pauses and looks at her as if she’s gone mad. “No….. that’s illegal.” 

She shrugs. “Some people only respond to physical discipline.” 

He hums tentatively, “Father usually behaves after a day or two of being put on a liquid diet.”

She finds herself coughing out a laugh, surprised he’d even do such a thing. She remembers the day Zuko visited her and Ozai in prison. He could’ve easily tortured the information he needed out of them, but instead he walked in with a tray of tea as he spoke of wanting to treat them with dignity— he used that word less than a handful of times, but his father continues to cling to it for his life. 

She couldn’t wrap her head around how someone could be so gullible, it disgusted her. 

Even when he cut her a deal, allowing her to walk freely as they looked for their mother, he disgusted her. He was weak for offering her tea, weak for allowing her to accompany him unrestrained, weak for letting her attack him during the trip. She was his tormentor and still, he forgave her, over and over again. 

She wonders if she’ll ever grow the strength to thank him for being the only one to show her forgiveness. 

“And mother?” she asks, struggling to hide her cautious tone. 

“She’s good. Still in Hira’a.” Zuko pauses, eyes filled with both relief and a little sorrow. He has a good bond with his mother and had always believed Azula deserved the same. He’d love nothing more than to reunite the two. “She never fails to bring you up whenever I see her.”

How sweet. 

And mildly triggering, given all the years she spent missing a woman who had forgotten her. She quickly catches herself from slipping into her thoughts any further—there was no need to punish herself like that, she had already suffered enough. 

It’s been over ten years since they’ve seen each other, and she still wasn’t ready. But, even in all her resentment, she still found herself wishing she could tell that she often thought of her, too. 

Rather than giving him a definitive no, she just rolled her eyes.  

Perhaps she has grown softer throughout the years. The last time she randomly appeared, she promised to make it her life’s mission to drive her brother to the brink of insanity in hopes to make him more like their father. Granted, she was fucking losing it at that time, having unresolved trauma and what not. Being locked in a cage like a fucking animal only made her worse. The final blow was when she was released to help find their mother, only to find out she chose to have the memory of them completely wiped.

Oh, that fucked her up. 

Azula refused to admit it at the time, but she’s closer to admitting it now after years of solitude. A changed woman, she was. Zuko should consider himself lucky to get away with just an argument today. Had their reunion been a few years sooner, that argument would’ve ended with the entire market burning down in flames. 

But, she was his little sister at the end of the day, and there’s no doubt she'd still be annoyed at the sight of him again the next time they inevitably run into each other. 

Azula closes her eyes and sighs, then lightly nods her head, “Well, I’m off. It was nice seeing you, Zuzu.” 

It didn’t sound like it. “Wh— hold on, where are you going?”

“A temple,” she vaguely says, not stupid enough to tell him exactly which one. Zuko probably would’ve let her be, but one couldn’t be too safe. “Have fun in the brothels!”

“I already told you I wasn’t here for the brothels— Azula, wait,” he calls after her, more confused than anything. “Do you need money or anything?”

His sister stops to consider it. She may have some at the moment, but prior to passing by, she was pretty low on silver. The only reason why she came here was to pick-pocket a few people. 

And by pick pocket, she means breaking into the homes of local lords and raiding their safes. Easy money. Can’t feel too bad about it either since they’re notoriously known for their corruption at a local level. She may be a criminal, but she was ethical.

“How much?” she asks, reluctant to jump right into accepting it.

He casually reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pouch of gold coins, lazily sifting through them before realizing he never had a number in his head. 

“Wow look at the Fire Lord giving a fugitive money,” she murmurs, earning herself a disappointed look from Zuko. “What?” 

“Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

“Just take the fucking pouch,” he sighs, shoving the bag into her hands. “And please make it last.” 

“Aww, are you saying that because you don’t know when you’ll see me next? Are you gonna be sad after this?” she continues to poke at him. 

Suddenly, he feels a headache starting to blossom against the right side of his skull. “I don’t think I will,” he blandly says, rubbing his temple as she begins to laugh at him. “Will you do me a favor though since I gave you money?”

The question wipes the smile off her face, she hates being indebted to others. 

“The next time I see you, I want it to be with Mother.” She opens her mouth, probably to say something along the lines of not telling her what to do, but he doesn’t give her a chance to say it. “It can be five years from now or even twenty. Just go to mom whenever you’re ready and I’ll meet you two there.” 

She blinks. “Wait, does that mean I’m not an enemy of the state anymore?” 

“Oh no, you still are,” he lets out a laugh. “But if you have an emergency and really, really need help, send a letter to Mom.” 

She doesn’t say much at first. She was actually moved for once and it showed. 

“Thank you,” she says with a barely contained smile. 

It was natural for him to give her a weird look, it was the first time she’s ever expressed genuine appreciation. Not quite grasping how much weight those two words held. Maybe she’ll tell him one day, but for now, it wasn’t her problem. 

“You can thank me by going to mom’s one day.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Azula doesn't sound very serious when she turns to leave, but she really was and already had a date in mind. It would be sooner than five years, but enough to work on those flashbacks.

He watches her run off, scoffing out a laugh once she disappears into the crowd of people, leaving as fast as she appeared. 

Alone, again. 

Well, he’s not alone. He has his uncle. 

It’s time like this when he really remembers just how different his life has turned out. It wasn’t bad. Bittersweet, yes. But not bad. After years of being subjected to his Father’s cruelty and abuse, everyone’s moved on with their own lives

Even Azula.

Then it dawned on him that he had just committed treason. He wasn’t supposed to let a criminal like her continue to roam the earth without consequence. Yet he did. He gave her money, too— way too much of it. Had one of the imperial guards caught her, she would’ve been behind bars, just like their father.

But at that moment, he wasn’t the one who held the throne. He was simply someone’s brother. Their father may have played favorites, but he recognized long ago that he has scarred them both and that she, too, deserved freedom. 

—

Running around with Cyra has made you realize just how much you missed the crude humor and self-indulgent ways of the Silk District. 

Those who served the imperial court were the complete opposite. So proper and uptight. The amount of self-importance some had without contributing anything remarkable to the world was exhausting. You don’t think you would’ve lasted as long as you have had it not been for who you served. 

Although, he’s been a little too lenient with you during this trip. He hasn’t told you to come back to work once, which is why you’ve consistently gotten back to the hotel as late as 2:00 AM. You very well may be pushing your luck, but he never set a curfew for you and neither has Chamberlain. 

You were a bit nervous to see the Lord’s reaction after your first night. Being met with nothing but indifference only made it worse, making you question what his true intentions were. The worries lingered in the back of your mind until a couple nights later. 

There was nothing more anti-climatic than catching a glimpse of a cloaked man from the corner of your eye. 

Wearing a cloak here wasn’t an unusual sight, citizens covered themselves for all different reasons. Some, such as yourself in the past, did it purely for the look. Some did it to conceal their identities. It was the latter for the Fire Lord, who was apparently spying on you. 

Zuko rules over an entire nation, yet has the ability to shrink his presence down to that of a disregarded and overlooked vagrant. He's quiet when he wants to be, taking up such little space he may as well vanish into thin air. It’s quite the talent, allowing him to slip away into normalcy for an hour or two whenever the grandiosity of the palace became too much. 

Unfortunately for Zuko, you can spot him in a crowd. Easily. 

Maybe it’s from all the time you’ve spent with him—hours spent locked away in an office, days spent traveling, weeks spent visiting in foreign lands. 

Or maybe it’s something more. The possibility was not a thought you liked to entertain. It’s not because the thought itself wasn’t ridiculous—it absolutely was ridiculous. It’s as if the God’s decided to make a mockery out of your life when they had decided on your reality. 

You can just imagine them all brainstorming your fate in some heavenly council room.

“Let’s give her someone she can’t have,” one says. “Perhaps Azulon’s second grandson?”

“I love it. Put her in the least liked clan,” says another. “The boy will bring an era of peace and let their union create unrest within the other clans.”

“Brilliant. Make their connection devastatingly magnetic, as well,” the God of Misfortune excitedly says, followed by the room erupting in evil laughter. 

And devastating it was.

Zuko was well over a hundred feet away, just another body swallowed by a sea of people. Many walked past him, some even stared in his direction as their minds drifted off, but no one truly noticed. He was insignificant. Invisible. 

The gods continued to laugh, because you had noticed him, anyway. 

It was beyond just the odd, occasional pull. It was as if you were connected by a stubborn invisible string that enjoyed tugging at you, constantly reminding you of the person at the end of it. 

You disappeared shortly after noticing him, but quickly decided to have a little fun. You had brought Cyra along—weaving in and out of shops and alleyways. 

“You’re going to drive him mad,” she had said. 

“He already is,” you giggled at the thought of him losing sight of you once more. 

“I’m sure he just wanted to see if you were okay. You look like you’ve forgotten all about your duties! He’s doing no less than a hired guard would. It’s quite flattering, actually.” 

“He is a lunatic that’s doing it for free.” 

Cyra was more perceptive than that, but kept her own conclusions to herself, knowing the troubles it’d bring. It was a matter you chose to be blind to, and she believed you were better for it.

That was last night. 

Tonight, a local lord was throwing a banquet in honor of the Fire Lord’s visit. 

Back being the most important man in the room, he went. He’d be lying if he said he’d been looking forward to attending, but at least this one wasn’t as formal compared to most of the banquet’s he’s attended in the past. 

Zuko tried to enjoy it. He drank with those that wanted to share a drink with him, laughed as he listened to the stories the locals shared and said just enough to keep a conversation alive. It wasn’t enough, though— these are people that have thrived in a culture that rewards ambition and resilience. They were more interested in getting to know him as a person, and while appreciates being seen as one, he will not be contributing to a conversation about personal hardships. 

He hates conversations that lead to praise or pity. He’s never wanted to leave a place more. But that would be seen as rude, so he’s stuck having to redirect conversations, all while trying not to pay too much attention to you. 

To say you’re gone the entire day is not an exaggeration—neither him nor Chamberlain have gotten the chance to catch up with you. But he had a feeling you’d pop up. When you did, he realized he underestimated just how well connected you were. 

He’s never seen you this comfortable at an event before. Nor has he ever seen you in such a tight dress. He is thankful for the robe you paired with it for the evening. It did a wonderful job at keeping the inappropriate thoughts he would’ve had at bay. 

Lucky for him, Saiyo chose not to come tonight, crossing off whatever worries he would’ve had if he’d gotten caught for looking at you too much. 

“I couldn’t imagine the pressure of having all of those concubines.” 

Zuko genuinely laughs this time, Lord Joji was quite the empath. “They’re terrifying. You’d think having their own secluded area would bring them some peace and serenity, yet they spend their days brawling with each other.” 

The words slipped right out once it was just him and the host. He would’ve never shared that at any other event. 

Joji’s clearly enjoying it, laughing at the image in his head. “Perhaps it’s time to bring in some fake eunuchs,” he sips his sake. “Declutter the court, so to speak.” 

“Wait, what?” 

He tenses at the sudden drop in Zuko’s tone. He couldn’t tell if he was offended or not, but he grew anxious as the silence went on. “I was just kidding, by the way,” he forces out a laugh. “It’s uh— typical humor around here. I always forget how crass we can be at times. Haha… I’m sure we look like a bunch of heathens to the rest of the world.” 

“Huh?” The sudden self-depreciation pulled Zuko out of his thoughts. “Oh no, the humor here is wonderful. The eunuch idea is fucking genius.” 

Joji pauses and looks at him for a moment, stuck on how he called it an idea. “It worked well for my grand uncle,” he says, testing the waters. “He was able to bring the house back down to a comfortable number in no time.”

“Is that so?” There’s a bit of skepticism in his tone. “Probably didn’t have that many to begin with.”

“It may take some time. But once they’ve finished their jobs, you can catch one of them in the final act and he’ll confess to everything during interrogation.” 

“Getting more than one would be smart, wouldn’t it?” he muses to himself, then takes a sip from his glass. “You could probably just get a servant to catch them—avoid all the tears and pleading.” 

Joji nods, “You’d be surprised how many attendants are willing to spy for you in exchange for a small bonus.”

Zuko suddenly huffs out a defeated laugh. “They’d only just send more.” 

“Would you like my grand uncle’s information? Wait, never mind, I forgot you were—“

Zuko waves a hand. Even he forgot who he was for a moment there— he was bound to more than just the practice of keeping concubines. “I wouldn’t want to waste someone else’s time.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste at all,” he reassures him. “If you ever do change your mind though, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to him.”

“Thank you,” Zuko hums as something else catches his attention. “Could you remind me where the washroom is, again?” 

—

The moon casted a faint light over the host’s backyard, revealing stone paths that allowed you to walk through a lush garden filled with delicate flowers and soft shrubs. The path took you past several wooden arches, long overtaken by nature as vines wrap up and cascade over the structures, gently rustling with each breeze.

You had hid behind one when you first heard footsteps, and then waited. You weren’t actually avoiding him, you had already expected he’d follow you out here, and just wanted to creep up on him once he got closer. 

It’s not until he fully walks past you when you decide to make your presence known, magically appear a few feet behind him.

“Are you spying on me?” 

“No.” You failed to startle him, but did manage to make him feel wrongfully accused. “I was just– I knew you were out here and I thought I’d get some fresh air, too.“

He braces himself. He didn't need to see the glass in your hand to know that you’ve been drinking. You had given it away when you casually stepped out of the shadows to greet him. 

“Getting fresh air,” you muse to yourself as you walk up to him. “Like last night?”

The light drains from his eyes. He looks absolutely mortified, and doesn’t even try to deny it. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I figured it’d be fun setting you off on a wild goose chase. I’m sure you have a perfectly normal explanation, though.”

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he doesn’t sound very certain of it. “I was already planning on touring the place.”

“You know I’m just fine.” It’s not like he’d be much help if trouble were to arise, you were more than capable of defending yourself. “Does keeping me away from Ryuko make you feel better?”

Knowing that you weren’t mad should’ve made him feel better, but being spoken to like a child was so much worse. You look like you’re about to giggle at his response, regardless of what it was. 

“Actually no, I have a better question. Are you going to do this every time someone shows interest in me? Even when you already have Sai and all the other concubines?”

That’s not a question he wants to answer. He hasn’t even touched Sai at all during the trip, not that it’d make a difference since that was his job. “If you’re happy, then no.” How he still manages to be stubborn, you have no clue. 

Your lips twitch into a smile. “You don’t think I’d be happy with him?”

There’s a spark of annoyance in his eyes, realizing he’s going to have to come clean about something you most likely already know about. 

“You told him you liked your life and then he went on to tell you everything that was wrong with it— I think you’d be miserable with him.” He grows irritated by the words he was having to repeat. “And then he insulted your position by saying there was no future in it. You’ve done nothing but work towards bettering it!” 

You had a feeling he overheard that conversation and once again, your intuition hasn’t failed you. “Are you sure it’s not because he tried to say that you think you own me?” 

“Yeah. He studied me for an entire hour, yet I’ve never looked at you and thought of insulting you the way he did. He spoke over you that entire time and when he couldn’t sway you, he decided to hurt your feelings. And he still thought he deserved to be given a chance.”

He’s pretty much ranting at this point and it’s taking everything in him not to go off track and say something rude. 

“He deserves to have his fucking tongue cut out.” 

Whoops.

“…I think that might be too harsh of a punishment.” You said it more to lighten, trying to process how pissed off he’s been this entire time. 

“Whether you find it harsh or not makes no difference to me. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way,” he muttered, waving away whatever dignity he had left. “I never want to see anything like that happen again.” 

You thought this would be more of a silly exchange where you’d make fun of him for being—well, pathetic. It would’ve been easier had he just felt threatened by Ryuko, but his reason for hating him is reasonable enough and you can’t find it yourself to tell him that he was wrong.

He waits for you to say the usual spiel about how he needs to stop making everything so difficult and to just have an heir already.

There was a bit of defeat in your tone when you spoke. “I wish you knew how tiring it is watching you do whatever you want, when I’ve done nothing but try to do the right thing.” 

You sigh and reach forward, fingers gently brushing over the apple of his cheek, and with Zuko being dwindled down to a man who takes whatever he can get, he gravitates towards your touch. 

“Maybe it’s time to give up,” he feebly suggests.

“If only the people knew how much of a fool they have for a ruler, too,” you softly say. 

And like the fool he is, he places his hand over yours and just holds it there— making it one of the very few times he’s ever allowed someone to touch the scar on his face. “And what if I was just a fool?” 

Now he’s just speaking nonsense. You know more than anyone how much he’d hate being a normal person. He liked having power—that was alright, he was one of the rare few who knew how to wield it properly.

“I wouldn’t allow that.” You continue to rub your thumb over his cheek, using a tone that’s far too tender for the answer you come up with. “I’d stage a coup d'état and put you right back where you belong.” 

His lips slowly curve in a smile. “You’re making it very hard for me to be angry with our circumstances right now.”

“I know, at least you have me as a loyalist,” you hum, slightly tilting your head as you get a better look at him. “I’m starting to grow a little homesick, honestly— even if it is boring there.” 

“You can go home early, if you want,” he offers with a second thought. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s only 3 more days.”

“I hope you’re nicer to me by then. I’m a little homesick, too.”

How charming. “That’s if I don’t drink my memories away after tonight— this isn’t exactly a conversation I want to remember,” you sadly admit.

Zuko’s eyes soften, wishing you’d drink more around him often—you’re quite endearing in the state you’re in. “And why is that?”

“Because I’d prefer not to be overcome with embarrassment when I wake up tomorrow morning.” 

His mind goes back to the morning after he first kissed you and chuckles. “It’s not that bad.“

You laugh blandly in return. “Not everyone’s as shameless as you.”

But perhaps it was time to even things out between you for once. He did complain about being the only one drunk that night, after all. 

So in the moment of silence you shared with him, you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheekbone, allowing yourself to be selfish for once.

He’s never been so still in his life. You’ve yelled at him, rejected him, pushed him on to other women so many times that he’s lost count. Yet there was no denying that you felt something so incredibly deep for him. There was no need to spell it out— he saw it, felt it, heard it.

“What happened to never touching you again?” Zuko wasn’t complaining, but he was absolutely going to tease you. 

“I’m afraid that only applies to you,” you say, feigning sympathy. “Unless you’d like to order me to stop touching you, as well.” 

“I would never do such a thing,” he fights off a smile. “Though I would like to know what my punishment would be if I defied your orders.”

There was a sudden look of disbelief on your face, a little disappointment as well. “That is the sluttiest question I’ve ever heard, you know that?”

“I think the courtesans may have just corrupted your mind with all their crude little jokes.” 

“Perhaps. They told me I’d make a fine courtesan the other day.” You run the backs of fingers across his jaw, ignoring the sudden twitch in his eye. “Could you imagine such a simple comment planting a seed in my mind?”

Fortunately, you’ve had enough drinks in you to be able to dismiss the sinister laugh that comes out of him. “No. I don’t want to imagine that, at all, actually.” 

“Uh-oh,” you smile and take a sip. “Does the idea make you jealous, My Lord?” 

“Jealous? Yes.” He plucks the glass from your hand and takes a sip of your sake. “A little angry, as well.” 

“A little?”

His eyes narrow and speaks as if you had just challenged him. “I would buy you out before you got the chance to take customers.”

You throw out another idea. “What if I took a customer while waiting for you to finish the paperwork?” 

“I’d turn him into a eunuch.” He watches as your smile slowly fades away. 

“That’s a little much for a man that hoards concubines, no?” 

He thinks to defend himself against hoarding accusations, but forces himself to let it go. “Does it matter if you’re planning on drinking your memories away tonight?” 

You stare at him as you recall the last ten minutes or so. “I probably should.” 

“Were you not going to?”

“I was on the fence about it,” you give a contemplative hum. “Eh—better safe than sorry.”

You turn to leave, but Zuko grabs your wrists before you take a step. “You’re not going back to ignoring me tomorrow, are you?”

“Depends on my mood tomorrow,” you smile and snatch your wrist away. “Bye!” 

“Fuck—Wait! What kind of an answer is that?”

—

The last days of your visit were fairly normal.

You had ended up taking the rest of the time off. Everyone figured you needed the break anyways and you had zero objections to that. 

It was the last day when everything went south. 

Of course you just so happened to be there, after deciding to stay at the hotel for some extra rest before traveling back home. 

The Madame at Cyra’s brothel would’ve had no issues letting you take a nap there. Had you actually done so, you would’ve been sleeping peacefully right about now— rather than awkwardly sitting in a silent room full of people who are too nervous to speak.

After thirty minutes of being tortured by discomfort, Lord Zuko and the Chamberlain finally walk through the door. The tears started almost immediately.

You guess the guard who had to go fetch them didn’t say what the emergency was. They didn’t look very mad. Chamberlain looked more worried. Zuko just stood there while Concubine Saiyo and one of the guards got on their hands and knees to beg for forgiveness. 

“Lord Z-Zuko, I’m— I’m s-so so-sorry!”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty! Please spare my life. I beg you! Please!”

It takes a moment to click for Zuko and only you notice the glimmer of joy in his eyes when he finally realizes what has happened. 

You were hoping he’d send you back to your room, but ended up having to kneel a few feet away from the two adulterers as they had to recall their stories in full. You’re not sure why that was still protocol. Even Zuko looked miserable as he had to listen to them, but the Chancellor was known to be a stickler. 

The older man regretted it soon enough. Hearing the events of the sexual encounter quickly became a unique torture he was forced to endure. 

Saiyo began to beg again in the end, and you felt a little bad. She was a nice girl.

“Please—please!! I’ll do anything!”

Zuko offers a sympathetic hum, only to remind her of the law. “I have no other choice but to remove you from the court. What kind of a message would that send to the others if I let you stay?” He was full of shit.

“My f-family will kill me!” she continued to cry. 

He looks to the guard next to her, who’s staring out into space, tears all dried out. Zuko tries to ask him a question but struggles with the wording at first. Eventually he grows impatient and bluntly asks, “Did you enjoy fucking her?”

The guard grows pale, terrified of what the punishment for that would be. 

“I’m not executing you. Not whipping you, either. Or whatever physical punishment they have for these kinds of things,” Zuko lets him know.

The guard sighs in relief, then bows. “I— Yes, I did.” 

Chamberlain scoffs and looks at the guard in disgust. How the youth could willingly engage in such devious acts was beyond him. 

“Sai, do y—“ Zuko tries to get the concubines' attention, but she's too busy dry heaving to notice. “Saiyo. Sa—my fucking gods—Sai!”

She throws her head back and wails. “I’m s-so sorry, my Lord!!” 

“Do you want t—Sai, please,“ cut off once more, he slams his fist on the table next to him, startling everyone in the room. “STOP.”

She takes in a sharp breath, whimpering another apology as Zuko glared at her, daring her to sniffle again.

Zuko finally speaks and points to the guard. “If you don’t want to go home, I can gift you to him. You can be his wife.”

“W-wait— really?” 

Zuko notices her bottom lip quiver. “Don’t. Just answer the question.”

“O-okay, yes. Please. I can’t go home.”

“Great.” He takes a sip of water. “You all can leave now— except for you.” 

You don’t do a very good job of hiding your dismay, but you stay in place and wait for everyone to leave. 

Zuko opens his mouth. 

Saiyo pops in and whines, “Lord Zuko, do you hate me?!” 

He rests his head in his hand and sighs. “No, I don’t hate you.”

“But—I cheated!“

“That’s okay. We found you a place to live and you are safe,” he says, trying to maintain his patience to the best of his ability. “I need to speak with Ms.—“

“But will you be fine?” she whimpers.

Her question actually manages to make Zuko smile a little, but it’s for reasons he can’t exactly share. “I will be just fine,” he hums. 

The concubine needs some extra reassurance, so it wasn’t until a few minutes later when you two finally had the room to yourselves. 

“Don’t you think you’re sitting a little too far?” he asks.

You are. Without a word, you bring the floor cushion upfront, ignoring the pleased look on his face because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

There’s a bit of a stare off until you finally break the silence. “You’re not punishing me for this.”

“There’s nothing to punish you for,” he chuckles. “Not that I’d ever have the heart to, anyway.” 

“Then why am I here?”

“Just wanted to talk.” 

“I’m kneeling in front of you,” you mutter, stating the obvious. “This doesn’t feel very casual.” 

“Would you like to sit on my lap instead?” 

“No,” you answer rather fast. 

“Shame,” he relaxes, leaning on the armrest. “I must say I am having a very good day right now.”

You nearly roll your eyes, it’s not often you make mistakes, this one being punishable by death had it been made during the rule of the two previous Fire Lords. “I’m sure you are.”

“Feels very meaningful, as well.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound interested, but you have a feeling he’s going to eventually say something inappropriate. “How so?”

“You know,” he gestures at the door. “You brought them here because you wanted more space between us— I didn’t want space, I also don’t like my concubines. Then you ended up solving both of my problems and even showered me with some of your affection. I feel as if we’ve come full circle here.” 

That wipes the smile off your face, you were counting on him to be kind enough to pretend like it didn’t happen.

You force out a laugh. “What are you talking about?” 

He lets out an actual laugh, light and filled to the brim with content. “I’m talking about the banquet we attended a few days ago.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” he says, looking at you with amusement. “All drunk and sweaty, throwing yourself at me and begging me to f—“

“That did not happen!” you slam both hands on the ground and yelp. 

“Oh, so you do know?”

“I do, now stop—please,” you beg him. 

“Alright, fine,” he laughs. “Anyways, I just wanted to thank you, that's all.”

“Don’t thank me for any of that,” you murmur, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Ugh—If I’d known I’d be bringing two freaks together, I would’ve never brought guards. You should probably expect an apology letter from my father. Though I’m sure it’ll mostly be him begging you to allow him to torture the guard.” 

Knowing your father, the news will probably have a chill running down his spine and sickened with worry. A mistake like this could very well result in you being taken in as a concubine in place of Saiyo, since you and your father would be the reason why he had one less concubine.  

Zuko’s too busy thinking about how your father would be probably go into full, graphic detail on the proposed torture, leaving him mildy disturbed. 

“I should probably write him a letter—let it be how he finds out about the incident and let him know neither of you are at fault.” 

“If you could, that’d be wonderful,” you nod in content.

The weary look on his face never fades as his eyes trail past you and look off into the distance. Your father being the cause of it was hard to believe. There’s something he’s not telling you.

“I know I’m still on a break, but I’m on a fixed salary,” you say to lighten the mood, despite growing concerned over the sudden mood switch. “If you want my professional opinion.” 

He gives an apathetic hum, letting the silence drag on some more as he takes your offer into consideration. 

“I ran into my sister the other day.” 

Your eyes widened and he confirmed it with a subtle nod, then continued to give you a breakdown of their brief reunion. It sounded like something that would’ve been more heartwarming, but in the end you understood why he didn’t look very moved.  “I considered pardoning her, but that only lasted about an hour.”

“Probably for the best. She sounds like she’s found peace, and you got to avoid all the pushback and scrutiny a pardoning would’ve received.” You were sugar coating it, the council would’ve been up in flames. The only reason why you’re staying calm over him committing literal treason is because he seemed to need a friend right now.

“I’ll help her if she needs it, but she’s not coming back to the capital after everything I’ve had to do for this fucking place over the years. I gave my soul away in exchange for everyone’s peace,” he admits in defeat. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you murmur, not having much advice for him on the matter. 

It has gotten a lot better over the years, but the beginning years of his reign have left lasting effects on him, though he’d never admit it. 

He says it’s all been rewarding, but those years were thankless. No one took him seriously. He had multiple attempts on his life. He was terrified of being anything like his father, so his own people constantly took advantage of him for being too nice. When the word spread, people protested because they thought he was too weak. 

Things finally started to pick up once he began to ally with different clans and create factions, which allowed him to get even more done since people were more willing to help and support him.

He’s loved by the majority now, but you’ve come to realize that the damage had been done. You felt sorry for him. His main goal of helping others has never changed, but he has no interest in getting to know people. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbles, rising from his seat. 

“I wasn’t looking at you at all.” 

He watches as you stand and walk to the other end of the room, putting the floor cushion in its rightful place. His gaze may have drifted lower than it should’ve, but it rose back up once you turned around. 

He looks like he’s about to say something stupid, so you shoot him a glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, pointing at the cushion you had just put away, “just reminded me of the empty bed I’ll have tonight.” Everyone was leaving tomorrow morning, except for the new couple, who were to leave right away. 

“Don’t complain as if you didn’t try to thank me for it,” you sigh. 

“I’m not. I might have another way to thank you, though,” he steps in front of you just before you pass him and leans forward. 

“Miss Advisor!” 

Concubine Saiyo was still turning the corner when she cried out for you. Zuko quickly spins around and you take several steps away from him. Saiyo comes trotting in shortly afterwards, tears streaming from her cheeks.

“I’m leaving now. I will miss seeing you!” her voice trembles. 

“I will miss you, too! I wish you the best of luck.”

Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but then found himself fighting back a smile as he watched you two wrap your arms around each other. If this was going to be the standard for farewells, he should just start bringing Concubines to trips, along with a fake eunuch. He’d be a free man soon enough!

“And because I like you, if you ever get sent to the west wing as a concubine, don’t listen to what any of them say because they are looking to set you up for failure,” Sai tightly grabs on to your shoulders, “the easiest way to win over the Lord’s affection is to relax your throat. It’s fine if you gag, if anything he’d rather you would—“

“SAIYO!” The name practically rips through both the Fire Lord’s and Chamberlain's vocal chords.

She glances at them, then hurries to tell you the rest. “The messier the better, honestly. Practice Yoga as well! He—“

“THAT IS ENOUGH.”

‼️ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ‼️

In the third year, you forgot to submit a "visual application" and they denied you once again. By this time you were starting to think the program was a scam and that there were just some creepy men behind the whole thing—tricking monster-fucking women into submitting intimate details about themself just for the hell of it.

It's not until this year that you realize this program was very much not a scam at all.

Your final attempt at getting into it was a success, resulting in that previously mentioned email that your eyes happily skimmed over. That, and you also had two other good friends who apparently had gotten accepted into it years ago, only deciding to spill the details of their experience now that you've been accepted.

"I had a great time when I went. Whatever you're thinking it is, I hope you know it's ten times better!" Yuki claimed. Apparently, she slept with some hybrid-wolf guy?

"No because I was actually upset they didn't send that one guy to me, y'know the one on the posters with the tentacles?" Your dearest Utahime had ranted. She got stuck with some dude with more eyes than arms—six to be exact—and evidently that turned her off from the whole experience.

Not that she didn’t go back a few times afterwards, though…

"Well, at least your monster had a face. I got a tentacle man but fuck, he was kinda boring since I was looking at a blank face the whole time." Your last acquaintance hummed in response to the previous statement.

There was a lot of information to take in and yet you were bright-eyed ‘n beaming with excitement upon listening to every little detail. This program asked its recruits for so much prior to acceptance due to the various things that could go oh-so-wrong.

After all, you were required to sign a waiver that said something about being okay with these tests possibly resulting in the loss of your own life. It was scary, sure. But you weren’t exactly thinking with your head whenever S.W.A.M. was involved.

Why would you be? One look at some hot, long-haired vampire who seemed to be the face of the program along with some other dark-haired brute with a freakishly long tongue, and your cunt was leading every decision of yours.

Not to mention the fact that this program housed all sorts of different types of monsters. Many were science experiments gone wrong and some were from entirely different worlds. And now that you were accepted into it, you'd finally be able to meet and sleep with one of them!

What could possibly go wrong?

——

"...Most have said it best if you follow their lead," Dr. Nanami Kento was in the middle of droning about while he led you to your designated "room of pleasure" or whatever he called it. "Some of our specimens here can be a bit... much to deal with, and if you'd like to walk out with the best experience possible, it is always advised that you let them do their thing and simply be compliant."

The two of you had been walking some lengthy hallway for what felt like hours now. Nanami was the first person to greet you upon your entry to the facility—which very much rivaled a prison on the outside, but looked to be a mix of a hospital and a hotel within its interior—and while you swear he's been walking you in circles, he's also explained to you a long list of rules that you'll need to keep in mind before you're to meet your monster.

All experiences in S.W.A.M. are unique and different. Even if two different people have slept with or been bred by the same monster, they both leave the program with two entirely dissimilar stories. 

Along the walk to your designated room, you passed by many others that gave you glimpses of how many differing species occupied this place. There were definitely a lot that looked nowhere near human, but there were also a considerable amount that seemed to be completely human.

Which Nanami clarified for you that they were certainly not.

At some point, the two of you had reached an elevator and after swiftly stepping onto it, Nanami calmly pressed the button for the twelfth floor. During this, you took notice of how some floors had names attached to them. The sixth floor was for hybrids, the eleventh floor was for the undead, and somewhere around the fifteenth floor included spirits and fae.

You naturally found all of this to be most fascinating, but in doing so, you missed the name of the floor the two of you were heading towards.

By the time the elevator creaked its way there, Nanami had let you step out first and then proceeded to remain in place with a stoic smile stitched across his face.

You swirled around with wide eyes, "Uh-, Dr. Nanami? Are you not coming with m—"

"Good luck," was the only, and last thing the man said to you before rapidly mashing at the lobby-level button to his right.

Then the doors shut in your face.

You stared at your slanted, shimmery reflection for a long moment before sighing and turning back around to the short hallway. There were three doors; one on the left that said Simurian, another on the right that read King of Curses, and the last one set in the middle which held your name on it.

You think your eyes stretched open impossibly wider upon seeing it.

Did all people get their own room like this? What the heck is a Simurian and just who the hell is the King of Curses? Why did Dr. Nanami leave you like that?? And what did he mean by good luck???

You were only here for sexualized testing, right?

Pushing all these questions of yours aside, you paced forward slowly. 

With every step you took, you couldn't help but notice how the door to your left seemed to be nearly ten feet tall. Over on your right, that door looked to be a few inches shorter but much wider.

Who or whatever occupied either room must have been freakishly huge. The thought of which makes you shudder before you finally slip into the human-sized door set for you.

Inside the room, you were met with a massive area. Everything looked as though it were twice your size—the bed, a table you end up walking past, a... a cuck chair(?), and a bunch of other stuff you didn't quite familiarize yourself with.

What caught your attention the quickest—aside from the large chair near the bed—was a file that was laid out on the only normally sized piece of furniture in the room, a dresser.

Curiously, you swiped up said file and were quick to open it. One of the papers inside fluttered out and elsewhere as soon as you did so, but you didn't pay it any mind since the first page inside captured all of your attention rather quickly.

It was a profile for someone named Dabura Karaba.

A picture of the man-, or, alien—as you come to know within the next few seconds of reading—sits up near the top left corner of the page.

There's a shit ton of information about him plastered all throughout the rest of the paper, going on to extend towards the back of it, and even a few more pages afterwards. But you skim over the majority of that just to read the details listed about his genitals.

Gross Morphology: The phallus is retractile, measuring at approximately 7-9 cm in total length (base to tip), with a circumference of 6.5 cm at mid-shaft—when flaccid. The organ falls under the spectrum of beige in color [HEX: #c2b6a1 for reference — intermittently a hue lighter or darker dependent on lighting], with twisting veins that pulse at roughly 20 bpm—presumably reflecting circulatory activity. The hemisphere of the glans measure at about 5.7 cm in width, and secretes a viscous, petroleum-like lubricant (pH 7.5-8.0). The membrane is. . .

You think your mouth is watering by the time your eyes return to their skimming, one too many scientific words printed out across the paper for your concern.

That is, until the word erectile seems to stand out in its bold letters before you.

Erectile Dynamics: Upon arousal (typically triggered by pheromonal, faint tactile, or visual stimuli) the glans reaches hues up to HEX: #7f737c — mimicking that of a flushed state. The phallus has then been measured to broaden rapidly, extending the full, non-curved, erect length of—

Unfortunately for your curiosity, your reading is cut quite short when the loud sound of something thumping against the wall causes you to flinch and redirect your eyes elsewhere. Though, you’re pretty sure you saw double digits following those last few words you read.

When you turn, you're met with the same being you've been reading about, who's currently busy with silently cursing your tiny doorframe for hitting the left tip of one of his horns. The alien is hunched over when your eyes make contact with him, but that changes within the next coming seconds as he steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind him—clearly unaware of your gaze being on him.

The moment his eyes—all three of them—glide your way, you flinch like an idiot and let that document drop out of your hands as if you weren't supposed to be touching it in the first place.

Dabura is a brooding-looking creature, to say the least. He's got a great deal of staggering feet to his height, easily exceeding some inches over seven feet tall. You believe you feel a short shot of pain in your neck just from the angle of which it takes to peer up at his face.

Despite being an alien, he carries a humanoid frame and possess quite the lean, but well defined, musculature. The three eyes he had slipping along your build all carry irises with an redish-orange color in them. There's a pair of long, curved horns—that you'd love to hold onto later—which extend upwards 'n outwards from the side of his head.

You're gulping down a thick sum of nerves as your gaze travels to the expanse of his body in sync with the way he was doing to you. There's a plethora of dark markings plastered all along his neck, arms, and shoulders, which form these uneven, asymmetrical patterns out across his smooth skin. That, and there's even another marking encircling that third eye of his.

Which you note hasn't moved from your face from the moment he noticed you despite his other pair having carried right along...

Your ogling comes to an end just as you're admiring his elongated earlobes from where you are, catching how they run down to his abdomen and are adorned with more piercings than you can count.

"I presume you're the human I am to mate with?" His voice sends a cold chill straight down your spine. Not because it was scary or anything, but simply due to the fact that no human could ever possess such a soothingly deep baritone to their words in the way he does.

You gulp loudly enough for him to hear and the sound makes his head tip over just an inch as if curiosity has struck him. "Y-Yes," The first stutter out of your mouth already makes you want to find the nearest window and ju-, "That would be me, yes. Which means you must be..." You halfway saved yourself of embarrassment until you realized you'd dropped that file with all his information and somehow managed to forget his name already.

Shit, this whole thing is going poorly already and neither of you have even taken your clothes off!

Scrambling to the papers that fell earlier, you hurry to swipe some of them up in search for a name and don't even notice the way he stalks over to assist you until a large hand comes into view just above yours. Then you lift your chin up and the alien is crouched right in front of you while looking down.

Up close, you realize just how intimidating he really is. It was bad before when he was a few steps away from you but now that he's up close, you think you can feel your heart beat pounding against your ears as if to give you an audio representation of your climbing anxiety.

You'd spent four years trying to get into this program and now you finally had a monster (technically alien) in front of you but the only thing you could feel was fear instead of excitement. What a bummer—

"Dabura," The alien murmurs in a contrastingly gentle tone, bass consuming all bits of space in between the two of you and weirdly settling down that anxiousness of yours to replace it with something much warmer. Then all his eyes flick up to meet with yours again and his demeanor is strictly calming as he hums, "There's no need for papers to tell you my name when I am right in front of you."

You blink, letting the word, "Right," tumble out of your mouth all softly. Snapping out of your flustered stupor, you look upwards and notice the faintest scuff on his left horn—which reminds you of the noise you heard when he first came in. Then you redirect your hand to reach up towards it, "Did you hit your horn on the way in?"

"I did,” Dabura cuts off your traveling hand by grabbing onto your wrist and holding it a few inches away from their destination.

"Are they sensitive to touch?" You ask harmlessly, batting your lashes at the creature.

His expression falls impossibly duller, eyelids lowering as an unamused frown takes over his lips, "Every human asks me this, no."

You immediately raise a brow as if unconvinced, "If that's true then,” He sees the way your fingers wiggle before you go to move your other hand, “May I-"

His free hand shoots over to grasp at your other one as his eyes widen slightly. Grumbling, "No." with more firmness to it in hopes you’ll stop with your attempts at feeling on his horns.

Then you pop a pout, "You're no funnnn.”

The alien stares at you for a long moment, taking you all in just as you’d done earlier. You’re far prettier than any other human he’d been sent so far, and he feels his heart doing something weird each time you make a surprising advance to touch him.

But even so, he’s not about to let you get into something you clearly don’t quite understand yet. "Unless you should like to begin mating now," Dabura explains lowly, steadily moving your hands down and towards your lap, "No, you cannot touch them."

A smug smile breaks out onto your face and it makes his brows twitch. He watches as you quickly break out of that momentarily timid shell, "Oh, so they are sensitive!" you exclaim.

"They are not, they just-,” He cuts himself off and shuts his eyes, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he exhales strongly, “Human."

Your eyes roll, "I have a name too, y’know-"

"Do you wish to be bred against every available surface in this room?" Dabura interrupts, hoping to catch you off guard just as his initial appearance did.

Unfortunately for him, he’s in the presence of the world’s most eager human.

"Do you want my honest answer to that?" You ask with an unfairly cute grin on your face.

"I-,” He chokes whilst returning his eyes to you, “Pardon?" You act like you didn’t say anything unordinary and blink innocently. In which he’s left to let his shoulders slump a bit and begrudgingly say, "I am curious, yes. Answer me honestly."

That’s when you place your hands on the floor and lean closer to him rather cat-like, causing him to lean back out of shock and nearly fall completely on his ass despite being almost twice your size. "I would love if you fucked me against every surface,” You tell him with this little sparkle noticeable in your eyes.

In the time Dabura has been apart of the program, he can’t say he’s ever encountered a human quite as… enthusiastic as you. Plus, your sentence came out far more vulgar than his had—something he takes note of.

Which is exactly why his next words leaves him slowly, tone etched with concern, "...You appeared frightened by me just mere minutes ago."

"Yes,” You agree before looking down at the way he’s managed to lean back enough to nearly be positioned under you, “And now I'm aroused—in some places this is could even be called scarousal."

Dabura feels like you’re more of the foreign creature in the room as opposed to himself by this point. Letting his brows scrunch up, "I don't believe that's a word-"

"You're an alien, you only know so much,” You hush out in this purring tone that catches him off guard. Then you lift one of your hands and move to tap your index against one of his many, many abs.

His breath hitches and his lips twitch—threatening to smile from the experience of being teased by you.

Dabura’s got two eyes focused on the soft taps of your finger and the remaining one fixated on your face as he utters, "I like you, human."

"Thank you, alien.” You reply, sliding your finger over and tracing a few of his abs just to smile at the way he flinches under your touch. God, for a creature much larger than you and all intimidating, he sure was sensitive to the smallest of things. “I think I like you t-"

"May I taste you?" Dabura requests, throwing your entire focus off the rails.

"What?" You choke as an immediate throb feels out for your attention from in between your legs. Then you remember that he’s still a different species, and find yourself instinctively pulling away cautiously, "You mean like, sexually, right…?”

He snorts and your heart skips a beat at the realization he finds you most amusing when you’re confused. "Unless you have a preference for being devoured in a literal sense,” Dabura reaches for your wrist once more and pulls you closer, letting your palm meet his abdomen as he husks out a careful, “Yes."

"O-Oh. I mean, if that’s the case then of course." You agree with that same twinkle from earlier returning into your irises. Though, Dabura doesn’t miss the way your expressions vocalize your thoughts before your mouth does, "Wait, Dr. Nanami mentioned something about this testing being primarily for breeding.” You recall, moving away from the alien to stand up. “Eating me out will won’t really have anything to do with-"

"It will help." He insists as he too shifts around to bring himself up onto his feet. Then he gives you this look that has your thighs drawing nearer to one another, "And I'm sure that doctor of yours also mentioned how you are to listen to me."

You can’t exactly refute that, "Well-, wait, how do you know that?!"

Rolling his eyes only once as if he’d grown tired of this useless back and forth, Dabura presses forward and tutts, "You worry yourself with the wrong things."

After which, and before you have a moment to debate with him even further, he’s bent down to swoop you up ‘n over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing! One arm is tightly set around your thighs and the other comes over to place a hand against the curve of your ass to support you.

You feel all warm again as you realize how high up in the air he has you, considering how tall the alien stands. 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off within the next few seconds by your body flopping down onto the bed carelessly, a soft oof lofting out of your mouth instead. You then shoot your inquisitive gaze upwards again and open your mouth to question him further, but find yourself rather speechless from the angle of which he now stands.

It was one thing to see him from afar, another to see him practically beneath you, but above you? Fuck, you couldn’t even help the way your thighs clamped shut—arousal daring to damp itself at your core.

Dabura is looking down at you for a quiet moment before drawing a hand up to his chin in thought and muttering, “Perhaps I should have tossed you the other way…” 

You know you’re supposed to be following his lead but it’s a bit difficult to do that when all he’s said is that he wanted to taste you, “Huh? What are you-“

“Flip over,” He orders flatly, barely adding on, “Please,” after noticing the way you’d begun to glare at him. 

You’re slow to do exactly that, and feel awkward in your every move—being watched so closely by some alien you’ve hardly gotten to know wasn’t exactly what you were expecting from this whole thing. You don’t know why, but you thought this process would be a lot more-

“I’m going to undress you now,” Dabura warns, his hands having met with the fabric at your hips.

You freeze before regaining your thoughts and then glancing back at him from over your shoulder, “I really don’t think this part is necessary for the-“

He interrupts you with an unintentionally rude sigh—as if your extra communication is the problem here and not his lack thereof—and moves his hand to the center of your back before applying pressure. The weight from his palm forces your upper half down against the mattress. Your face smushes right into the sheets and you let out a frustrated grumble in response to his curtness. 

Then you could almost hear the smile in his words as he asks, “Is this the best you can arch?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice is muffled but he could make out what you were saying quite clearly.

Grinning to himself, “Your arch,” He repeats, biting back a snort, “Is this as good as it gets?”

You couldn’t tell if he was taunting you like this on purpose just to get a rise out of you or if he was being sincere but either way it was starting to annoy you. So much so that you lift your head a little and scoff, “How about I arch my foot into your a-ah! Hey,” Unfortunately, your words whisk out into a breathy sound rivaling a moan.

Dabura had deduced that right then, in the middle of your complaints, it’d be best to swipe his thumb against your crotch—bringing friction to your cunt through the few layers of fabric.

“For a human so intuitive, and uncooperative, you are quite wet.” He points out—making you furrow your brows as you wonder how the hell he figured that out from only one little touch. It’s not like you were leaking through your-, “What caused this, I wonder.”

With a bratty frown on your face, you pull your hips away from him slightly—not to reject his touches but simply to torture his desire to do so, “Not you, asshole.”

“Mmh.” Dabura is fully amused now. He’d never encountered a human quite like you. “Seems I forgot to add liar into that list,” He says playfully.

You gasp, “Excuse me-“

Your pants getting tugged down swiftly enough to cut your words off again, cool air slapping against your naked skin rather quickly.

“My, my…” Dabura gawks lightly. “You know, I’ve never tasted human pussy before.”

“Eh?” Your head pops up from the sheets and you look back over your shoulder, “You mean you’ve never given oral before?”

Almost sheepishly and in a stiffened manner, the alien shakes his head. “Many denied me from doing so, but you… You seemed so excited to mate with me, I only assumed you’d enjoy this just as much as I would.”

“Well-“

“And considering how…” The thick of his thumb presses in between your folds, rubbing against the fabric of your panties sluggishly, “…wet you are,” Then Dabura releases a parched sigh. “Why, it’d be improper of me not to get a taste. This entire program is based on sexualized testing, yes? Perhaps your cunt will take my seed best after being thoroughly licked.”

Talk about giving you fancy excuses just to eat you out…

You suppose you couldn’t blame him for wanting to plaster his tongue in your juices—after all, he did just say no other human allowed him to do so. Now, that does make you curious since Nanami specifically informed you to listen to your monster’s whims.

Perhaps he’d only done so based on this one’s past experiences? And that ‘good luck’ he gave you… what was that all about?

——

None of these questions of yours get answered anytime soon but they’re forgotten rather quickly with the way Dabura’s tongue had so feverishly met your twitching folds from beyond the layer of cotton that lay in the way.

You suppose he didn’t care much to move them aside just yet, as he seemed to enjoy toying with the material and liked the way you squirmed whenever he sucked it into his mouth—the raw feel of his plush lips grazing your bare cunt.

Even his decision to eat you out from the back left you curious. Hell, everything this damn alien did had you doused in concern. But of course, he hadn’t spared you a moment to dwell on any of them.

Especially not with those distracting grunts he let out by the time he finally peeled your panties down your clammy legs—hands gripped tightly onto your thighs to keep you spread open at the perfect angle for his tongue to lap inward.

“Mmmgh, yesyes,” Dabura groans, “Such a-, mmh, tasty lil’ thing.” His words slathered in between your pussy lips at varying angles, adding to each flicking movement of his tongue. 

“Dabura,” You moan just as his mouth plucks away for a split second long enough for his teeth to bare. Then angles down just to nibble at your inner thigh for no direct reason other than wanting to feel you squirm against his hands. “I-I still don’t think you’re supposed to-, ngh!”

Again, you’re cut off by his actions—his mouth having returned to your poor, leaky entrance to swab over with his tongue. Then his hands pried your legs further open in an attempt at feeling your labia peel apart even more, tongue hot ‘n aching for more and more of your slick. You’re unsure of what exactly would satiate the alien’s thirst for you when he was already thrusting the majority of his oral muscle in between your walls.

Humans didn’t eat pussy like this, naturally. Not only was there a foreign movement to the way he fucked his tongue into you but the added factor of Dabura being clueless with his every move had you dazed. You wanted to tease him for the way he’d waddle his tongue around your clit for a second too short but he always seemed to make up for it by wiggling it deeeep into your pussy directly after.

It was almost like he wanted to smear your own taste around.

“What was that?” Dabura eventually mumbled against your sappy folds, letting you gush against his lips as he spoke, “I couldn’t hear you over my talkative girl down here.”

Your legs twitch as if to close but it’s to no avail. All while your voice has pitched off into whine after whine, “Y-Your?”

The alien pulled his mouth off of you after one more suctioning pop! and then sported yet another tiny grin, “Whilst you’re in this room, yes.” A fat glop of spit spanked out across your hole next and he moves his thumb to fuck his salive inward, “Mine.”

“O-Oh.” Your jaw flails open some and you feel yourself drooling from the instant he starts feeding his thumb to your cunt. It’s only one finger but fuck, nothing could quite compare to it.

Dabura tipped his head aside as he twirled his thumb around your insides, “You seemed to like that,” He pointed out hotly, breaths fanning into your skin, “Being called mine.“

Your hips did that thing they did earlier when you attempted to flee from the pleasure he’d provided for you, “I do, but-, hahh.. none of this is important for the-“

“Oh hushhh, woman,” Dabura drawls out, fully bored of hearing you remind him about how eating you out has nothing to do with breeding you. “…Allow me to have this in peace, won’t you?” He pulls his thumb out of your cunt and spits once again before tapping at the saliva—mimicking a spanking motion against your hole.

After that, you give up on your arguments. Partially because Dabura decides to replace his thumb with two stretching fingers, and also because he seems to realize he can stimulate you rather greatly with only one hand—digits lodged neatly into your entrance while his thumb runs across your glossy clit.

Of which he’s taken quite the liking to. One could even say he grows fond of the gorgeous bundle of nerves, drawing all sorts of shapes around it and loving the feel of it jumping whenever his other fingers curl into that spot against your inner walls you adore so much.

You’re brought to not one, not two, and most certainly more than three orgasms from his fingers alone. And which each one, you try—you really, really do—to remind him of what you’re here for, but he ignores you each time.

Eventually Dabura finds himself in this drunken state, having his slicked fingers biting into your skin while he devours your cunt sluggishly with his whorish mouth.

Moaning, “S’good,” as his tongue tickles in somewhere deeper than it had previously—almost as if the damn thing were growing! “So sloppy, fuuuck,” The last curse exits his throat in a whine and by this point his hips have been eagerly bucking against the massive bed. “I love the way your pussy feels on my tongue,” He babbles, grinding his hard cock down against the mattress—rocking the entirety of the furniture in the process. 

Now, even though you’ve been occupied with having your cunt licked to utter numbness, you couldn’t ignore how needy Dabura’s other appendages seemed to be for you.

You knew the moment he got hard based on how much he adjusted himself against the bed. It was like the erection he carried in between those loose fabrics of his was a hindrance to him—oozing in precum excessively from the plump head and aching to dive in between the same lips he’d been lapping at.

His tongue is kissing at your clit right when he’s about to cum from doing so, but his orgasm is cut embarrassingly short by the way your room door flings open.

The poor door slams into the wall and Dabura lets out a very adorable yelp of surprise in between your legs.

So much for that intimidating aura of his, huh…

Even so, the sound he lets out, along with his flinching are both disregarded as he focuses back on the task at hand. He’s a little lazier with his feasting since he realizes the two of you have some company now but, again, this doesn’t stop him.

“You greedy fucking alien,” A new voice hoots out deeply, shucking the door away from the wall it slammed into just to shut it properly.

“Mmmnh, Sukuna, you ah-,” Dabura pauses his words to the newly entered monster just to sluuuurp! you right up one more time. A wet, sloppy smile spilt out across his lips, “You must come taste this. It’s like-“

“I know what good pussy tastes like, no need to explain it to me.” Sukuna cuts off, stomping his way into the room with his four eyes all fixated onto you. Pink brows furrowing, “I was a human prior to becoming this,” He adds on with a wave of his hand in Dabura’s direction, “Now move over.”

“…A bossy one, I bet.” The alien breathes out sassily, not paying the man any mind whatsoever and instead playing with the lips of your cunt by pulling them apart and then letting them fall back naturally after lifting his thumb away.

Ignoring his snarky remark, Sukuna ends up shoving poor Dabura out the way and letting his lower set of hands meet the purchase of your hips. One of his upper palms comes down to smack across your ass, making you flinch away from your previously dumbed-out state.

You lift your head and glance back, eyes met with a new creature that causes your jaw to fall open all stupidly. “A-And you are?”

Sukuna seems immediately ticked off by your lack of awareness, shooting a look over to Dabura and ignoring your question entirely. “What have you been up to with our toy so far?”

Toy? Surely he wasn’t talking about you…

“I’ve only licked her a few times,” Dabura claims—knowing all too well that few is beyond an understatement.

Sukuna seems pleased to hear that regaurdless. Sporting a haughty smile, “Have you?” He purrs before gripping onto the fat of your ass and pulling your cheeks apart to steal a glance at how swollen your folds are now, “Mh. That explains why she’s so puffy down here.”

Your face is still resting against the bedsheet but that doesn’t hinder you from mumbling, “M’not puffy…”

“Cute,” Sukuna comments shortly as he speaks as though you weren’t in the room with him. “She’s fucked-out already.”

“M’not,” You huff a bit louder this time, angling your rather wobbly arms to push yourself up on all fours.

You crane your head to get a full look at him, blinking past the blur of pleasurable tears that have built up along your lashline to take all of him in. Now, Sukuna was quite the sight for sore eyes.

While he was a bit shorter than Dabura in height, he surely made up for it in just about everything else. He had dark markings splayed out across his skin just as the alien did—but there was a clear difference in them. He also carried four eyes instead of the three you’d only just grown used to, all of which were red in hue and ever-so-glaring when met with yours.

There was a smirk on his face that never seemed to leave, stretching his pinkened lips out as if every fiber of his being were better-, or greater than you in every way imaginable. You wouldn’t call it smugness per-se, but there was something rather gloating about the way he carried himself. 

You could only see so much of him with the way he was positioned behind you, having taken Dabura’s place entirely and left the alien to lay on the bed somewhere to your left. Even so, you did notice that Sukuna had two of everything except legs.

He had a bulky stature, muscles bulged and stretched out across his limbs. Your eyes felt as though they had little hearts in them upon meeting the mouth stretching across his stomach. It should’ve been grotesque to look at considering the way it moved all freakishly and almost carnally.

The massive tongue would lull out to lather across his lips and you’d get a hint of sharp teeth within your view each time he did so.

Up until that same tongue extended to swipe across just about everything in between your legs. “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind this,” He’d said in response to your almost forgotten words.

Then you felt the slippery wetness draaag against the backs of your thighs, your jittery-spread pussylips, and even your ass with the way Sukuna took one greedy lick. 

Your eyes bulged out all wide in reaction. The sight of which encouraged him to watch the way your expression contorted up as he focused the rounding tip of his stomach-tongue onto your cunt, bucking in dankly against it.

“Hnngh-, fuck.” You moaned before pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and letting your back arch again, “W-What is your guys’ obsession with-, ohgod..”

The sweet sound of your voice was drowned out in your own pleasure as Sukuna’s tongue performed the same dances Dabura’s lengthy one had done just a moment ago.

“Poor thing,” Sukuna mocked, pouting at you to mirror the one sewn into your lips, “That dumb alien hasn’t given you any cock yet, has he?”

Your torso ended up falling once again as your hands went grabbing and tugging at the sheets to brace yourself for the full, greedy feel of his tongue. Then you shook your head in response and whimpered something along the lines of no.

Sukuna shot Dabura a look immediately. “Waited for me, didn’t you?” He taunted.

The alien no longer seemed amused and reciprocated Sukuna’s looks with a flat, irritated expression, “No.”

The pink-haired man rolled his eyes. “Mh. No matter, I see why you were occupied here for so long.” His attention returned to you and he found it most pleasing to watch you try to scurry further up the bed in an attempt at escaping that blinding pleasure his dewy tongue was gifting you with. “She is rather tasty.”

Even as you arched and moaned all over the place, you still managed to return to your focus of why you were here in the first place. There was no way you were about to let these two monsters make a pocket pussy out of you and only use their tongues with you!

“Can you just-, mmmph!” It’s quick that you learn Sukuna has even less of a patience than Dabura as one of his many, massive hands come to the back of your skull and push your face into the sheets.

He’s peering down at the way you wiggle your body in response, feeling pleasure begin to overstimulate your every nerve as his tongue invades every spongy spot of yours. “Has she been demanding all this time?” Sukuna asks the alien who seems quite bored now.

Dabura raises his eyebrows, surprised that Sukuna is acknowledging him again, “Yes, I believe she’d like to be bred.” He states, pointing out the obvious.

“Awh, too bad these tests are hardly for a human’s curiosity and primarily for our enjoyment.” The pink-haired man exhales—jerking his tongue back ‘n forth and backkk ‘n forthhh against the entirety of your soddened pussy, clinging to your clit and schlepping it around with his every move.

“Sukuna,” Dabura blinks, his eyes stuck on the motion of the man’s insistent tongue. He almost feels like his own was inadequate in comparison. “I do not believe you’re supposed to-“

Another cry is heard from you and the two are quickly distracted by the way your nails are beginning to tear at the bedsheets. Ah, Sukuna only then realizes that his tongue might just be too much for you after however long Dabura had his own on you.

Leading him to feel bad for you and gesture your way whilst directing his words to the alien at your left, “Hush her up, will you?”

Dabura frowns for the nth time. He didn’t much care to be ordered around by Sukuna like this.

…But that didn’t stop him from listening to each order he was given.

Which is how he ends up with his mouth against yours while Sukuna satisfies his incessant taste for you. 

——

That continued on for… heavens know how long. 

All three of you lose track and the only thing you can recall is the mixed feel of Dabura swallowing up your moans and Sukuna using his stomach mouth to play with your pussy like some toy.

It’s like you were the test subject in the room—not them. They both treated your body as if they’d never felt a human before or something. Which was weird considering the two of them have had their fair share of these tests before.

While Dabura was kissing you, his hands twitched with a need for exploration, soon traveling your body and fondling with your soft breasts. Every part of your body was left either marked or swollen from their many touches or bites.

And you don’t even remember how or when but you believe you were positioned on top of Dabura while Sukuna remained where he was behind you at some point. Because of this tangled position, Dabura was able to wrap his arms around you and keep you perfectly in place as Sukuna rubbed one—of his two—cocks in between the valley of your ass.

Within this position, the alien was beneath you with his own lengthy dick freed from the restricting fabrics of earlier—tugging at his shaft whilst feeling you squirm against him and whimper into his mouth.

That went on until both creatures had painted your stomach and your spine with their seed.

But, that wasn’t even where things really began.

No, no, things started—in your mind—when they let your body roll over from in between theirs and you were left to watch with dazed eyes as Sukuna grabbed at Dabura’s face and tugged him up. Then, erect cocks freed and tapping against one another upon all the movement, the two had exchanged one slow kiss in the name of “sharing your taste”.

You didn’t know what to make of it, really. 

Was it hot? Well, duh. But for the most part you were wondering if this is what both of them had wanted the entire time.

Were you just some ploy in this little game of theirs? Is this what Dr. Nanami had meant when he told you good luck?? Or—

The loud, prominently wet sound of their lips detaching from one another catches your ears as it rings throughout the entire room. When you look at their faces, you note how softened Dabura’s features seem to be. His eyes seem utterly desperate to please as they veer upwards to meet Sukuna’s hardened expression based on the angle of which the two were.

Then Sukuna lifts a hand to wipe away drool from the corner of Dabura’s lips, cracking yet another smirk before looking over to you. “You’ve got my poor alien whipped, human. I’m impressed.”

You stare dumbfoundedly, “Huh?”

Sukuna snorts, “Can’t you see it?” Gripping at Dabura’s chin, he turns his face over for you to look at. “There’s nothing in this head of his aside from you. You should be proud of yourself.”

You chew on your bottom lip again out of fear of saying the wrong thing in response, moving your gaze onto Dabura who is in fact just as whipped as Sukuna described him to be—eyes glazed over with lust and barely wiped away drool staining the side of his mouth.

When you and the alien make eye contact, his pupils seem to dilate and his cock is twitching all over again. He hadn’t the words to describe it, but from the very moment he saw you standing in this room, he was left entranced by you.

Chuckling, Sukuna releases Dabura from his grasp and then pulls away. “I suppose it’s time we give you what you want, yes?”

Now your eyes were lighting up, “Please?”

“Manners, how cute.” Sukuna hums before running a hand through his hair with one hand and motioning for you to follow him with another. “Come, let me place you in the most effective position."

Within the next few minutes, you’re hauled up into a pair of the man’s sizable arms, legs straggled out within his hold as your pussy is left to drip ‘n spill slick out all over the floor. You were a mess but the two monsters accompanying you weren’t fairing any better.

Dabura’s still sat on the bed in a foggy state of arousal, the plummy head of his cock waving in the air as it globed with honeyed plashets of cum. He was sitting there in his own disorder, unable to move until he made eye contact with your unfairly pretty pussy again.

The sheeny gloss from your arousal webbed out ever so beautifully against your lips, hole pulsing softly as it begged to be filled properly. Tongues wouldn’t satisfy you anymore, that much was clear.

Sukuna’s peering over your shoulder as he holds you up like some trophy, “Don’t tell me you’re too pussydrunk to move, alien.” He chastises, “Come breed her with me before she runs out of stamina on us.”

Dabura snaps out of his momentary torpor and staggers up on his feet, quickly looming over the two of you in the next coming seconds. Then he brings a finger to your chin to tip your face further up and his voice is a small whisper, “Tell me something first…”

You bat your damp lashes at him in that same probing manner he’d grown to admire, the sight of which makes his heart feel weird again.

“How exactly did you prepare for this? I’m curious,” He asks.

You’re still hardly lucid so, your voice is at some cockdrunken pitch as words slide out of your throat, “I rode a uh-, t-thirteen inch dildo a couple times,” You explain, giggling in thought shortly after. “Took a while to get used to…”

Sukuna nuzzles into the crook of your neck like a big cat, “And you believe that has properly prepared you for three cocks? Fuck, you’re dumber than I thought—I like that.”

You grumble something short of a curse at him but the sound only makes him smile against your skin. Then Dabura is finally closing the distance between all of you and you feel his tip sloping up against your sex.

Few words are exchanged in the next few moments as the two decide it’s time to finally stuff you full.

The first dick that slides into you is one of Sukuna’s—the lower one—which is absurdly thick as it slots into your gushy hole. Following this is Dabura’s eager cock, which has throbby veins bumping against every crevice of your insides.

By this point you’re being streeeetched all the way the fuck out and think it damn near impossible to fit all three lengths inside you at the same time. One alone was more than enough to have your eyes crossing but two and eventually three?

Oh, you didn’t think you’d be able to feel your legs come next morning.

Though this was of very little concern to you. You came into this program to be bred by monsters and that’s exactly what you were determined to do—no matter how much your poor hole would have to be stretched open in the process.

And it didn’t help that all three cocks just kept bulging and twitching inside you, smooching over one another as they explored the inner depths of your sweet cunt. Something short of a cockdrunk smile was painted across your lips but you couldn’t really feel it.

The only thing you could feel were the three fat dicks wadding their way into you—along with the hot breaths all over both sides of your neck. Then came the gobbets of cum that filled your insides to the brim. So much so that it’d spilt out of your puffed labia and sogged onto the floor beneath the three of you.

They didn’t stop there though.

No, no, your monsters were just as determined as you were so they kept on with their uneven thrusts—Sukuna bucking forward each time Dabura sleethed his hips back, all whilst bouncing you up and down like a true fucktoy.

No other experience could quite compare to how used this one left you feeling, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Their mixed seeds schliiiicked ‘n sloshed around your gummy walls, sure to take after this prolonged session of feral fucking with the excuse of sexualized testing to mask it.

It’s not until you hear Sukuna and Dabura exchanging hushed words that you finally get an answer to at least one of your many questions.

“And if-, shit.. if that doesn’t work…” Sukuna’s steady humming towards the alien, “Dabura..”

“Yes?”

“I shall have to breed you next.”

A loong, awkward silence stretches on uncomfortably before he chokes in response. Batting his lashes, “What.”

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It was a bargain struck in desperation, your hand traded for the lives of thousands. You had no say in the matter, of course. Your protests fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the clamor of relief from your father’s advisors. 

“It is an honor,” they told you, their voices laced with false cheer. “The emperor himself has chosen you.”

But honor felt like a chain around your neck as preparations for the wedding consumed the kingdom. 

Servants bustled about, draping your chambers in silks imported from the imperial capital, fitting you for gowns that whispered of elegance and submission. And through it all, the stories about him painted a portrait that chilled you to the bone. 

Suguru Geto was no ordinary ruler; he was a force of nature cloaked in imperial robes. 

They said he was cold, his precision in governance as sharp as a blade. He commanded entire rooms without uttering a word – his mere presence enough to silence dissent and bend wills. Always serious, never one for frivolity or warmth, he ruled with an iron fist wrapped in velvet gloves. 

Rumors swirled of his unyielding stare, capable of stripping away pretenses and exposing the raw truth beneath. You imagined him as a statue come to life, beautiful perhaps, but devoid of the spark that made men human.

The journey to the imperial capital was a blur of guarded caravans and endless roads flanked by the empire’s vast armies. 

Your heart pounded with a mix of dread and resignation as the towering spires of the palace came into view, piercing the sky like the teeth of some ancient beast. 

The wedding itself was a spectacle orchestrated to perfection, a union of power and sacrifice under the watchful eyes of nobles, generals, and foreign envoys. You stood at the altar in a gown of crimson and gold, the colors of the empire, feeling like a lamb adorned for the altar.

And then he appeared.

Suguru Geto stepped forward from the shadows of the grand hall, his presence rippling through the assembled crowd like a stone dropped into still water. 

He was taller than you had envisioned, his frame lean and commanding, clad in robes of deep black embroidered with silver threads that caught the light from the chandeliers above. 

His long, dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, framing a face that was both strikingly handsome and profoundly unreadable. High cheekbones, full lips pressed into a firm line, and eyes – those piercing dark eyes – that seemed to hold the weight of empires within them. He moved with a deliberate grace, each step measured, as if the very ground yielded to his will.

You expected the coldness, the precision, but not this... politeness. 

As the ceremony began, officiated by a high priest whose voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings, Suguru turned to you. His gaze met yours for the first time, and there was no disdain, no indifference – just a quiet intensity that made your breath catch. 

“It is an honor to stand before you today.” He said, his voice smooth and low, carrying the weight of formality without the edge of cruelty you had feared. The words were polite, scripted perhaps, but delivered with a sincerity that surprised you.

When the time came for the exchange of vows, his hand reached for yours. His touch was firm, fingers encircling your wrist with a possessiveness that sent a murmur through the onlookers. 

To them, it must have looked like a claim, a silent declaration of ownership over the bride offered from a conquered land. His thumb brushed lightly against your pulse point, a fleeting contact that lingered just a moment too long, possessive in its subtlety. 

But to you, it felt restrained, as if he were holding back a tide of something deeper. He didn’t squeeze or demand; instead, he released your hand with a gentle precision, stepping back to allow the priest to continue.

The feast that followed was a whirlwind of opulence: toasts raised in crystal goblets, platters of exotic fruits and roasted meats, musicians playing melodies that wove through the air like silk. 

Suguru sat beside you at the high table, his posture impeccable, engaging in quiet conversations with his advisors. He turned to you occasionally, offering a nod or a brief question about your journey, always polite, always reserved. 

“I hope the capital treats you well.” He commented at one point, his eyes flicking to yours before returning to the room. There was no overt possessiveness now, just that careful distance, as if he were navigating an invisible boundary.

You nodded, murmuring your thanks, but inside, confusion swirled. The man before you was not the monster of rumors; he was serious, yes, but his politeness disarmed you. 

Yet, as the night wore on and the guests departed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was merely the beginning of a life tethered to a stranger.

The first weeks of your marriage unfolded in a haze of adjustment. 

The imperial palace was a labyrinth of grandeur: endless corridors lined with tapestries depicting the empire’s triumphs, gardens that bloomed eternally under the care of silent gardeners, and chambers that dwarfed anything you had known back home. 

Your days were filled with the quiet routines of a new empress: lessons in court etiquette from stern-faced tutors, audiences with the emperor’s inner circle where you were introduced as a symbol of unity, and solitary afternoons wandering the palace grounds, trying to find your place in this vast, impersonal world.

Suguru, true to the tales, was a phantom in your shared life.

 He rose before dawn for council meetings, his days consumed by the machinery of empire – decrees on trade routes, strategies against border skirmishes, audiences with vassal lords. 

You saw him at meals, formal affairs where conversation was sparse and laced with protocol. He would inquire after your comfort with that same polite detachment: 

“Have the seamstresses provided suitable attire?” or “Does the library suit your interests?” 

His touches, when they occurred, were minimal: a hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hall, fingers that rested there with a firmness that bordered on possessive, drawing sidelong glances from the courtiers. 

But he never lingered, never crossed into intimacy. He was trying, you sensed, not to overstep, to respect the boundaries of an arrangement born of necessity rather than choice.

Nights were the hardest. Your shared bedchamber was a masterpiece of luxury, with a canopied bed draped in silks and a balcony overlooking the city lights. 

But Suguru retired late, often after you had feigned sleep, slipping into the adjoining study to pore over scrolls by candlelight. 

When he did join you, it was with a quiet efficiency – he changed into night robes, bid you goodnight with a nod, and turned his back, leaving an ocean of space between you on the mattress. No overtures, no attempts to bridge the gap. 

You lay awake, staring at the ornate ceiling, wondering if this was to be your existence: a beautiful cage, shared with a husband who treated you like a fragile artifact.

Months slipped by in this rhythm, the initial novelty of palace life giving way to a creeping isolation. 

You threw yourself into diversions to fill the void: studying the empire’s history in the vast library, where shelves towered like ancient trees; tending to a small herb garden in the secluded east wing, the soil grounding you in something tangible; even hosting modest teas for the wives of nobles, though their conversations often skirted around you, laced with curiosity about the “foreign bride.” 

Your kingdom’s tribute arrived regularly, reports from your father assuring you that peace held, but the letters were tinged with gratitude that felt like another layer of your sacrifice.

Suguru’s routine remained unchanging. He commanded the court with effortless authority, his presence alone quelling debates in the throne room. 

You observed him from afar during public sessions, noting how ministers straightened at his approach, how his rare words cut through noise like a scalpel. 

He was precise in everything – his edicts fair but unyielding, his gaze assessing without cruelty. Yet, in private moments, when your paths crossed in the halls, his politeness persisted. 

A slight bow of the head, a murmured “Good morning,” and that occasional touch – a brush of knuckles against your arm as he passed a document, possessive in its intent but withdrawn before it could unsettle.

But the distance gnawed at you. As a married woman, you were expected to embody grace and companionship, yet your husband barely acknowledged your existence beyond duty. 

Whispers among the servants reached your ears: “The emperor is reserved,” they said, “but perhaps he finds the arrangement... unappealing.” 

It stung, fueling a frustration that simmered beneath your composed exterior. You were no longer the sheltered princess; you were an empress in name, but a ghost in practice. 

Nights alone in that vast bed amplified the loneliness, the silk sheets cold against your skin, the silence broken only by the distant toll of bells marking the hours.

One evening, after six months of this silent coexistence, the weight became unbearable. 

The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the palace in hues of amber and shadow. You had spent the day in the gardens, pruning roses that bloomed defiantly despite the chill in the air, but your mind wandered to the man who shared your title yet not your life. 

Dinner had been a solitary affair in your chambers, the food tasteless on your tongue. Suguru was late again, his study door closed against the world.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Straightening your shoulders, you crossed the room and knocked firmly on the study door. Silence, then a quiet “Enter.”

Pushing it open, you found him at his desk, surrounded by maps and ledgers, his hair slightly disheveled from hours of work – a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He looked up, surprise flickering in those dark eyes before it was schooled into his usual composure. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, setting down his quill.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a decisive click. The room smelled of ink and parchment, a masculine scent that mingled with the faint trace of sandalwood from his robes. 

“No,” you began, your voice steadier than you felt, “everything is not alright. We’ve been married for half a year, Suguru, and you treat me like a stranger in my own home. You command empires with a glance, yet you can’t even look at me without this... wall between us.”

He rose slowly, his height unfolding like a shadow lengthening. For a moment, he was silent, his expression unreadable. 

Then, he moved around the desk, stopping a respectful distance away. 

“I apologize if I’ve made you feel unwelcome,” he replied, his tone polite as ever, but there was a tension in his jaw, a subtle shift in his posture. “This marriage was arranged for the good of your people. I did not wish to impose upon you more than necessary.”

“Impose?” You laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the quiet space. “We’re husband and wife, not distant allies. You leave me alone to wander these halls, doing ’your own thing’ while I do mine.” 

Your voice rose, laced with the bitterness that had been festering for months. “Months have passed, and I feel more isolated here than I ever did in my father’s palace. Do you even see me? Or am I just a symbol to parade at court?”

Crossing your arms, you glared at him, your cheeks flushed with the heat of confrontation. “I gave up everything – my home, my freedom – for this sham, and you can’t even pretend to be interested? It’s humiliating. Everyone whispers about the distant emperor and his unwanted bride. If you hate this as much as I think you do, just say it. End this farce.”

Suguru rose from his chair in one fluid motion, his height towering over you as he rounded the desk.

His expression shifted, the polite mask cracking to reveal a glint of something wilder, more intense: a slight craze flickering in his eyes, like a man on the edge of unleashing what he’d kept chained. 

He closed the distance between you in two strides, backing you against the wall with his body, not touching yet, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in, his face inches from yours. 

Those dark eyes bored into you, pupils dilated with obsession, his breath coming a touch quicker.

“You think I ignore you?” His voice was low, a growl edged with that controlled madness, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes – eyes that burned with possession. 

“Gods, woman, you’ve been driving me insane. I love you– obsess over you. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jerked my cock to stop myself from bending you over the nearest surface?”

His words hit you like a wave, raw and unfiltered, his body pressing closer now, one hand sliding to your waist in a grip that was firm; unyielding. 

You opened your mouth to retort, frustration still sparking. “You could’ve just—” 

But he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, the kiss fierce and demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch. 

It wasn’t gentle – it was a release, his obsession pouring out as he devoured you, one hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.

When he pulled away, both of you breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours, eyes wild. 

“No more waiting,” he murmured, voice husky with need. “You’re coming with me. Now.”

Before you could protest or process, he scooped you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you out of the study and down the dimly lit corridor to his private chambers. The palace was quiet at this hour, servants dismissed, leaving only the echo of his boots on the stone floor. 

He kicked the heavy door shut behind you, the sound final, and deposited you on the edge of the massive bed, its linens rumpled from his earlier retreat.

You glared up at him, heart pounding, a mix of anger and something hotter swirling in your chest. “You think you can just manhandle me like that? After ignoring me for months?”

Suguru’s eyes darkened, that slight craze sharpening as he loomed over you, shrugging off his outer robe to reveal the taut lines of his chest beneath a simple tunic. 

“Oh, I think I can.” He mused, his tone laced with something dark. “And I will. You’ve been a bratty little thing, haven’t you? Snapping at me like you don’t crave this as much as I do. But don’t worry, I’ll fix that attitude.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet and spinning you around with surprising gentleness despite the command in his movements. His hands worked quickly at the ties of your robes, peeling them away until you stood bare before him, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. 

You shivered, trying to twist back to face him, but his palm pressed between your shoulder blades, guiding you down onto the bed on all fours. 

“Stay.” He ordered, voice firm. “Ass up, like the needy wife you are.”

Heat flooded your face, frustration bubbling up as you shot a glare over your shoulder. “Needy? You’re the one who’s been—ah!”

The first spank landed sharp on your ass, the sting blooming into warmth that made you gasp. His hand soothed the spot immediately after, rubbing circles that contrasted the correction. 

“Watch that mouth.” He warned, though his voice held a thread of praise. “Such a pretty slut, thinking you can talk back to your emperor. But you’ll learn.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold onto the fire, but another spank followed, harder, jolting you forward. “Suguru, you can’t just—”

He tugged your hair then, pulling your head back gently but insistently, forcing you to arch as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear. “I can, and I will. You’ve teased me for months without knowing it. Now, spread those legs wider. Show me how wet you are from this.”

Defiance flickered, but so did desire, your body betraying you as you complied, thighs parting to reveal the slickness between them. 

Suguru groaned low in his throat, shedding the rest of his clothes until his hard cock sprang free, thick and veined, the tip already glistening. He positioned himself behind you, the head nudging your entrance, teasing without entering. 

“Look at you, dripping for it. Such a good girl under all that attitude, aren’t you? Or do I need to spank this greedy pussy to remind you?”

You pushed back against him, bratty even now. “Just put it in already, or are you all talk?”

His chuckle was dark, obsessed, as he yanked your hair again, the pull sending sparks down your spine. 

“Eager wifey.” He murmured, degradation mixing with the way his free hand praised by stroking your hip. “But you’ll beg properly soon.”

With one thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching your walls around his girth.The sensation was overwhelming – full, burning, perfect – and your attitude shattered in an instant. 

A moan tore from your throat, your arms buckling as you melted beneath him, body going pliant, obedient. No more fight; just surrender to the cock that filled you so completely.

Suguru stilled, buried deep, his hand releasing your hair to grip your hips instead. 

“There it is…” He teased, voice smug as he rocked shallowly, letting you feel every inch. “One push of my cock, and the brat disappears. Look at you, melting like the cockdrunk wife you were meant to be. So obedient now, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You whimpered, nodding into the sheets, the words hitting harder than any spank. “Y-Yes... please, Suguru...”

He laughed softly, starting a slow rhythm, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in, dragging against your inner walls. Each thrust built the pressure, his hands roaming: one spanking your ass lightly now, more for emphasis than punishment, the other tugging your hair to keep your back arched. 

“That’s better. My perfect little whore, taking it so well. You’ve been begging for this without words, haven’t you? Strutting around, making my cock ache every night.”

The pace quickened gradually, his hips snapping forward with precision, the slap of skin on skin filling the chamber. 

You pushed back to meet him, lost in the drag of his length, the way he hit that spot deep inside over and over. Dialogue flowed between thrusts, his voice a constant tease. 

“Tell me how it feels, wife. Does my cock shut that smart mouth of yours?”

You tried to respond sassily at first, the remnants of frustration lingering. “It– it’s good, but you could—oh fuck—go harder...”

Another thrust, sharper, making your ass jiggle and your pussy clench tighter around him. 

“Harder? Greedy– n-ngh, greedy brat.” He growled, tugging your hair to pull you up slightly, his chest pressing to your back. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t talk back if you don’t learn to beg f’me.”

“Please,” you gasped, the word breaking free as pleasure coiled tight. “Harder, please, Suguru...”

He obliged, pounding into you with relentless force, his cock bulging your belly slightly with each deep plunge – you could feel it, the outline pressing against your skin from inside. 

“Good girl.” He cooed, dragging out each syllable in an almost childish manner. “Look at that – my cock reshaping your pretty pussy. You’re mine now, all mine.”

The first orgasm crashed over you without warning, walls fluttering wildly as you cried out, soaking his length with your release. 

But he didn’t stop, thrusting through it, his hand slipping around to rub your clit in firm circles. “Holy shit.” He murmured, obsessed edge in his voice. “Cum again for me, show me how much you need this.”

You were a mess, babbling incoherently as he dragged it out, the overstimulation making your thighs quake. “Suguru—ah!—too much... can’t...”

“You can.” He commanded, spanking once more for good measure, the sting pushing you higher. “Be my lovely wife and cum on your– mmf, your emperor’s cock.”

The second climax built slower, deeper, his pace varying: slow grinds that let you feel the belly bulge, then fast snaps that had you seeing stars. 

When it hit, you squirted, gushing around him in hot spurts that drenched the sheets, your body convulsing as you wailed his name.

Suguru groaned, his control fraying. “Fuck, yes—take it all.” 

With a final, brutal thrust, he came, flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum, his hips jerking as he painted your insides white. 

He stayed buried, grinding to push it deeper, whispering, “Gonna breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my child. My pretty girl, carrying my heir.”

He pulled out slowly after, cum leaking from you, but he wasn’t done. 

Flipping you onto your back with ease, he settled between your thighs in missionary, sliding back in with a wet squelch. Your legs hooked around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as he loomed over you, eyes locked on yours: wild, loving, crazed.

Now, with him face-to-face, the teasing shifted.

You were fully cockdrunk, mind hazy, body pliant as he rocked into you languidly at first, letting the sensitivity build anew. 

“Look at you,” he cooed, mixed praise dripping from his lips. “So fucked out already, but still greedy for more. Pussy milking me like it never wants me to leave.”

You nodded hazily, not really processing, just agreeing on instinct. “Uh-huh... more...”

He chuckled, low and affectionate, thrusting deeper to emphasize the belly bulge again, his hand pressing on it. “That’s right, just agree. You’re not even listening, are you? Too cockdrunk to think, huh?”

“Mmh, yeah.” You murmured, eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation as he picked up speed. 

Conversation turned to moans and affirmatives from you, while he teased relentlessly. “Such a good girl now, no more brattiness. Just my pliant girl, taking every inch. Gonna cum inside again, ’kay?”

The rhythm dragged on, his cock stirring his previous load inside you, the slick sounds obscene. 

He kissed you deeply, swallowing your whimpers, then trailed bites down your neck as he angled to hit your g-spot. “Feel that? Yeah? Tell me you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours…!” You breathed, the words automatic, mind adrift in bliss. 

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “Damn right you are. Fucked so stupid, aren’t you? But you love it.”

The final orgasm built like a tidal wave, shared this time. Your walls clamped down, squirting weakly around him as you shattered, crying out. 

Suguru followed seconds later, groaning as he emptied another load, hips stuttering. “Hngh, fuck! Take it…!”

Spent, he eased out, but instead of collapsing, he kissed down your body, settling between your legs. “Gonna clean you up.” He promised, voice soft now, obsessed tenderness shining through. 

His tongue lapped at your folds, gathering the mix of cum and your juices, sucking gently on your clit until you twitched oversensitive. 

“M’kay…” You mumbled, too tired to do anything but agree, especially when he talked so sweetly.

He hummed approval, delving deeper, fucking you with his tongue to scoop out his seed. “Can’t let it go to waste. Taste so good mixed with me.”

You carded fingers through his hair, boneless, as aftershocks rippled. 

When he finished, he crawled up, pulling you into his arms. Your bodies tangled, his chest to your back, hand splayed possessively over your stomach. 

“Sleep now, my love.” He whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “Won’t avoid you anymore.”

Exhaustion claimed you both, drifting off in a cocoon of warmth, the months of distance forgotten in the intimacy you’d finally claimed.

a/n: can you guys tell when i started rushing this.. i also tried to get fancy i dont know if it worked i just hope you guys like it..