A WANNA BE AUTHOR

Brown Skin, Dirty Thoughts

[blaxcunicorn]

Juno❆ 20s❆ She/her ❆ Non-native English speaker - All errors are sprinkled with love ❆ MDNI (18+)❆

☆ Masterlist

☆ Rules

Please don’t repost, translate, copy, my writing without my permission. I will cry, do you want that on your conscience?

[blaxcunicorn]

People love pissing me off these days lmao

[shinixgami]

Ichigo’s smile is everything to me 🧡

[blaxcunicorn]

Power and Passion

Length: 2.6k

Content: Firelord!Zuko x Painter!Reader, smut, MDNI!, minor Zuko x OC character, canon divergent universe, semi-public sex, Zuko recieves head in front of the reader, throne sex, lmk if I missed anything

Synopsis: You're hired to paint Fire lord Zuko's royal portrait. However, Zuko got other plans for you.

Authors note: Zuko came back to my life beefier and hotter than ever. I couldn't help but to write him.

You stood before the massive doors of the Fire Lord's audience chamber, your heart pounding against your ribs as you clutched your satchel of brushes, pigments, and canvases. Before you could knock, one door swung open with a weak groan.

A warrior stepped out. Her face was painted and her armor illuminated from the firetorches. She must be a Kyoshi-Warrior you thought to yourself. "Painter? I’m Suki,” She beamed. “The Fire Lord is expecting you. Follow me." She led you through the echoing halls, past guards who stood like statues, until you reached the throne room. 

Fire Lord Zuko sat upon the ornate throne. He was exactly as the rumors and portraits had suggested tall, broad-shouldered, and regal in his crimson and gold robes. His raven hair was long and draped down with only the top tied back in the traditional topknot. You remember seeing him under his coronation but that was more than a decade ago. The adult years had filled him out with lean muscle and an aura of hard-won authority. He watched you approach quietly with his intense golden eyes. 

You bowed deeply. "Fire Lord Zuko. It is an honor to paint you. Thank you for this commission."

He nodded once. "Rise, I appreciate punctuality. Begin your preparations."

You set up your easel and canvas a respectful distance away, arranging your oils and brushes. You tried your best not to focus too much on the Fire Lord. The years had done him good, you thought, biting your underlip. Zuko remained seated in a perfect posture as you worked.

"Tell me about yourself," he said after a few minutes. You glanzed up from mixing the colors for his robes, surprised at the curiosity of his tone. "Most artists who come here are older masters. You're young. Where did you train?"

"I studied in the outer provinces first, then spent two years in the Capital University under Master Lo. I specialize in portraiture, capturing not just features, but the feeling behind them. Light on skin, the weight of responsibility in the eyes... that sort of thing."

He tilted his head slightly, while smiling slightly. "Ambitious. And honest. I like that." Your face was burning. The conversation flowed easily as you sketched his outline. He asked questions about your favorite subjects, your travels, even a dry comment about how difficult it was to sit still for long periods. You answered openly, warmed by his attention. He seemed almost... human like this, away from the public eye.

You were just about to begin laying down the base layers when the side door opened with a soft click. A woman entered, she wore silk robes in deep scarlet clinging to her curves. She swayed her hips seductively a half-lidded smile on her painted lips. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, but what took you back was her striking green eyes.  

"My lord... might I join you in this painting? It would be such a shame to leave your throne looking so... lonely." She slurred seductively out. 

Zuko regarded her for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Kaori. Sit."

Kaori glided forward and sank gracefully to the floor beside his throne. She leaned against his leg, one arm draping possessively over his knee, her cheek resting against the rich fabric of his robes. The pose was intimate but also possessive, her breasts were pressed softly against his thigh as she looked up at him. By the look in her eyes it was clear that she adored her Fire Lord. Zuko rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. You were told by your colleagues that the Fire Lord never married, but rather had concubines due to his family…issues one could say. Kaori was known to be his favorite and very possessive. She would interrupt any situation in which Zuko was alone with another woman. 

You swallowed, trying to focus on your work. The composition had changed. Instead of the gentle fire that was Fire Lord Zuko, it was now the Fire Lord and concubine, power and pleasure intertwined. You painted in silence for a while, capturing the contrast between Zuko's gentle strength and Kaori's languid sensuality. But the air grew thicker as Kaori's fingers traced idle patterns on Zuko's knee, inching higher. He did not stop her. It made you wonder. How was it like being his concubine. Being taken care of him and seeing him whenever he desired you. Images of him being on top of you with his dark locs draping around your head began flashing in your head sending heat between your legs. 

"She's distracting you," Zuko asked. His golden eyes were locked onto yours. "Did it bother you?"

You shook your head, your brush was trembling a bit. "No, my Lord. She's... beautiful. It adds to the piece."

Kaori giggled. "Hear that? She thinks I'm beautiful." She moved her shoulder slightly , letting her robe slip off one shoulder, exposing more skin. Her hand slid boldly up Zuko's inner thigh. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening on her shoulder.

You tried to keep your strokes steady on the canvas. Kaori noticed the attention Zuko gave to you. She knew her Firelord, his golden eyes were filled with lust. Jealousy spread around her body like poison. Kaori grew bolder, tracing up Zuko’s inner thigh slowly. Zuko remained composed, yet his golden eyes stayed fixed on you rather than on the woman at his feet.

A clink echoed as Kaori unbuckled his belt and freed his hardening cock. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her painted lips parting as she took him into her mouth. The wet sound of her slurping and sucking filled the quiet chamber. She worked him with deep devotion. With long, slow drags of her tongue followed by deeper strokes that made her cheeks hollow. Small moans vibrated from her throat as she bobbed her head.

Zuko’s breath hitched once, but his gaze never left you. Those intense golden eyes burned into yours, watching you attentively while his favorite concubine pleasured him. Heat flooded your body. Your thighs pressed together instinctively as slick wetness gathered between your legs, your core aching with sudden, shameful need. Your brush trembled against the canvas, leaving a slightly crooked line you’d have to fix later. You were intensely, embarrassingly horny with your nipples tightened beneath your robes, and warmth pooled low in your belly with every wet sound Kaori made.

You tried to focus on the painting, on capturing the sharp line of his jaw or the rich crimson of his robes, but it was impossible. The sight of Kaori’s dark hair spilling over his lap, the rhythmic motion of her head, and the way Zuko’s hand eventually tangled in her hair while he continued to stare at you made your mind spiral. Filthy thoughts flooded you: what it would feel like if those strong hands were in your hair instead, if that intense gaze was looking down at you while you knelt between his legs, if he would groan your name in that deep voice as he filled your mouth.

Your breathing grew shallow. You shifted on your feet, trying to ease the throbbing pressure between your thighs, but it only made the wetness worse. A soft, involuntary sound nearly escaped your lips.

“She’s distracting you,” Zuko said suddenly making your body tense. His eyes remained locked on yours. 

Kaori paused, lips still wrapped around him, but Zuko gently tugged her back by the hair.

“Enough, Kaori,” he ordered softly. “Leave us. You are distracting the artist.”

Kaori pulled off him with a wet pop, licking her lips as she looked up at him with a pout. She glanced at you with a mix of jealousy and amusement, then rose gracefully, adjusting her silk robes. With one last sway of her hips, she exited through the side door without a word.

The throne room fell silent except for the faint crackle of distant torches. Zuko remained seated, still exposed and hard staring right at you. You stood frozen for a long moment after Kaori’s departure, feeling the silence of the throne room pressing down on you. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, while your lips were slick with arousal.

“Come here,” Zuko commanded with a low and husky voice. His golden eyes held you captive. 

You swallowed hard and set your brush down. You walked up to the throne slowly.  When you reached him, you sank obediently to your knees before the Fire Lord, your gaze fell on the floor. Heat burned across your face and neck in embarrassment and your mind was spinning. 

Zuko leaned forward, placing his fingers on your chin and gently tilting your face upward. His thumb brushed slowly across your lower lip, as he studied you. “Look at me,” he murmured. You obeyed. The intensity in his scarred, handsome face made you stop breathing for a small moment. Without another word, he leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss. His mouth was warm and firm, tasting faintly of smoke and spice. The tenderness of it made your eyes flutter shut.

Then he gripped your waist and lifted you effortlessly onto his lap, placing you across his thighs. The moment your bodies pressed together, the kiss deepened. His tongue swept into your mouth, passionately dancing with yours. You moaned softly into his mouth, melting against his broad chest as his hands roamed your back.

You tried to pull back for air, gasping, but Zuko wouldn’t let you. He chased your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth with a low growl that sent sparks straight to your core. He placed one hand gently on the back of your head, pushing you closer for another kiss  and the kiss grew even more intense. It was wet, needy, and consuming.

His other hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, sliding up your thigh until his fingers hooked into your panties. He tugged them down your legs in one smooth motion, letting them pool around your ankles before you kicked them aside. Never breaking the kiss, he adjusted you on his lap so you straddled him fully. Your heated core was hovering just above his still-hard cock.

Zuko’s fingers returned between your legs, stroking through your soaked folds slowly. He groaned into your mouth at how wet you were, his thumb circling your swollen clit while two fingers teased your entrance. The pleasure built rapidly under his skilled touch. Your hips rocked helplessly against his hand as the coil of tension tightened inside you.

He kept kissing you through it all with deep, possessive kisses that stole your breath until the pleasure finally crested. You came hard on his fingers with a muffled cry against his lips, your body shaking as waves of intense release crashed over you. 

You trembled in the aftershocks of your orgasm, still straddling Zuko’s lap with his fingers glistening from your release. His golden eyes burned with hunger as he withdrew his hand and tasted you. Before, both his hands gripped your hips instead.

“Ride me,” he ordered.

You nodded breathlessly, heart racing as you positioned yourself over his hard cock. Zuko held himself steady while you slowly sank down. The thick head pushed inside you, stretching your soaked walls. You moaned, eyes fluttering as he slowly lowered you further, inch by inch, until your ass finally met his thighs. He was buried to the hilt, filling you completely.

“It’s so much, My Lord—fuck,” you gasped, closing your eyes at the burning stretch. You had never felt so full before. It bordered on too much, like you were being split open around the Fire Lord’s cock.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

You opened your eyes. Zuko stared up at you with half-lidded intensity, his scarred face flushed with pleasure.

“Now bounce.”He said spanking your ass. 

You yelped at the sting, but it quickly melted into heat. Zuko’s strong hands gripped your hips firmly as you began to move, slamming yourself down onto his length. The initial sting faded fast, replaced by sharp, electric pleasure that raced through every nerve. You moved faster, legs trembling as you held onto his broad shoulders for support.

Zuko threw his head back against the throne with a low groan, watching the way pleasure twisted your features. Your arousal coated his cock and base with every bounce, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing through the throne room. Each bounce had the head of his cock brush perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you, drawing broken moans from your throat.

A loud knock suddenly sounded on the massive doors. “Fire Lord Zuko,” a councilman’s voice called from the other side. “The council awaits your presence for the trade negotiations.”

You froze mid-bounce while your eyes wide with panic. Zuko spanked you once more in warning.

“Continue,” he growled under his breath, golden eyes locked on yours. You continued bouncing on his cock, trying to stay quiet even as the pleasure built again.

He raised his voice toward the door, perfectly composed despite being buried deep inside you. “Ten minutes. I am… occupied.”

The risk of being heard only made you wetter. Zuko’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you harder as you rode him. Your eyes rolled back, hips stuttering before you ground down even more desperately.

Zuko’s large hand slid up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure on the sides to make your head spin. You gasped brokenly, your cunt pulsing and squeezing around him as you kept riding.

“That’s it,” he murmured darkly as lips brushing your ear. “Take your Fire Lord like this. Let me feel how badly you need this throne.”

He exhaled deeply, clearly getting close. You let out a choked sob as your second orgasm crashed over you, squeezing impossibly tight around his cock while waves of intense pleasure tore through you. It was the strongest climax you had ever felt.

Zuko slid further down on the throne and fucked up into you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. Your short, desperate moans filled the space between you as you kept bouncing. His cock twitched hard inside you, and with a deep groan as he came. As he spilled deep within you, a burst of fire escaped his parted lips in a controlled, heated exhale that singed the air above the throne.

You both stayed locked together for a long moment, breathing hard. Eventually, Zuko helped you off his lap. You quickly retrieved your discarded underwear, smoothed down your dress, and returned to your easel on shaky legs, trying to look composed as you picked up your brush again.

The doors opened. Two councilmen stepped inside, bowing deeply. “Forgive us for disturbing you, Fire Lord.”

Zuko adjusted his robes calmly, looking every bit the regal ruler once more. “Only one person may disturb the Fire Lord without consequence. Is the matter from the Avatar?”

“No, my lord. It concerns the Earth Kingdom trade routes…”

You kept painting in silence, cheeks burning with feeling yourself leaking between your legs of residue from your Fire Lord, as they spoke. The rest of the session passed in a haze.

Later that night, back in your modest home, you stood before the mirror and slowly undressed. As your robes slipped from your shoulders, you froze in place. There, on your hips, were distinct handprints from where Zuko’s fiery grip had held you. The burn marks of the Fire Lord lingered on your skin like a secret brand. You traced them gently, a shiver running through you as memories of the throne room flooded back.

Credit: Divider by @steviebbboi and picture by @/heidi_marieeee on Threads

[blaxcunicorn]

Icymi

[blaxcunicorn]

Power and Passion

Length: 2.6k

Content: Firelord!Zuko x Painter!Reader, smut, MDNI!, minor Zuko x OC character, canon divergent universe, semi-public sex, Zuko recieves head in front of the reader, throne sex, lmk if I missed anything

Synopsis: You're hired to paint Fire lord Zuko's royal portrait. However, Zuko got other plans for you.

Authors note: Zuko came back to my life beefier and hotter than ever. I couldn't help but to write him.

You stood before the massive doors of the Fire Lord's audience chamber, your heart pounding against your ribs as you clutched your satchel of brushes, pigments, and canvases. Before you could knock, one door swung open with a weak groan.

A warrior stepped out. Her face was painted and her armor illuminated from the firetorches. She must be a Kyoshi-Warrior you thought to yourself. "Painter? I’m Suki,” She beamed. “The Fire Lord is expecting you. Follow me." She led you through the echoing halls, past guards who stood like statues, until you reached the throne room. 

Fire Lord Zuko sat upon the ornate throne. He was exactly as the rumors and portraits had suggested tall, broad-shouldered, and regal in his crimson and gold robes. His raven hair was long and draped down with only the top tied back in the traditional topknot. You remember seeing him under his coronation but that was more than a decade ago. The adult years had filled him out with lean muscle and an aura of hard-won authority. He watched you approach quietly with his intense golden eyes. 

You bowed deeply. "Fire Lord Zuko. It is an honor to paint you. Thank you for this commission."

He nodded once. "Rise, I appreciate punctuality. Begin your preparations."

You set up your easel and canvas a respectful distance away, arranging your oils and brushes. You tried your best not to focus too much on the Fire Lord. The years had done him good, you thought, biting your underlip. Zuko remained seated in a perfect posture as you worked.

"Tell me about yourself," he said after a few minutes. You glanzed up from mixing the colors for his robes, surprised at the curiosity of his tone. "Most artists who come here are older masters. You're young. Where did you train?"

"I studied in the outer provinces first, then spent two years in the Capital University under Master Lo. I specialize in portraiture, capturing not just features, but the feeling behind them. Light on skin, the weight of responsibility in the eyes... that sort of thing."

He tilted his head slightly, while smiling slightly. "Ambitious. And honest. I like that." Your face was burning. The conversation flowed easily as you sketched his outline. He asked questions about your favorite subjects, your travels, even a dry comment about how difficult it was to sit still for long periods. You answered openly, warmed by his attention. He seemed almost... human like this, away from the public eye.

You were just about to begin laying down the base layers when the side door opened with a soft click. A woman entered, she wore silk robes in deep scarlet clinging to her curves. She swayed her hips seductively a half-lidded smile on her painted lips. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, but what took you back was her striking green eyes.  

"My lord... might I join you in this painting? It would be such a shame to leave your throne looking so... lonely." She slurred seductively out. 

Zuko regarded her for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Kaori. Sit."

Kaori glided forward and sank gracefully to the floor beside his throne. She leaned against his leg, one arm draping possessively over his knee, her cheek resting against the rich fabric of his robes. The pose was intimate but also possessive, her breasts were pressed softly against his thigh as she looked up at him. By the look in her eyes it was clear that she adored her Fire Lord. Zuko rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. You were told by your colleagues that the Fire Lord never married, but rather had concubines due to his family…issues one could say. Kaori was known to be his favorite and very possessive. She would interrupt any situation in which Zuko was alone with another woman. 

You swallowed, trying to focus on your work. The composition had changed. Instead of the gentle fire that was Fire Lord Zuko, it was now the Fire Lord and concubine, power and pleasure intertwined. You painted in silence for a while, capturing the contrast between Zuko's gentle strength and Kaori's languid sensuality. But the air grew thicker as Kaori's fingers traced idle patterns on Zuko's knee, inching higher. He did not stop her. It made you wonder. How was it like being his concubine. Being taken care of him and seeing him whenever he desired you. Images of him being on top of you with his dark locs draping around your head began flashing in your head sending heat between your legs. 

"She's distracting you," Zuko asked. His golden eyes were locked onto yours. "Did it bother you?"

You shook your head, your brush was trembling a bit. "No, my Lord. She's... beautiful. It adds to the piece."

Kaori giggled. "Hear that? She thinks I'm beautiful." She moved her shoulder slightly , letting her robe slip off one shoulder, exposing more skin. Her hand slid boldly up Zuko's inner thigh. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening on her shoulder.

You tried to keep your strokes steady on the canvas. Kaori noticed the attention Zuko gave to you. She knew her Firelord, his golden eyes were filled with lust. Jealousy spread around her body like poison. Kaori grew bolder, tracing up Zuko’s inner thigh slowly. Zuko remained composed, yet his golden eyes stayed fixed on you rather than on the woman at his feet.

A clink echoed as Kaori unbuckled his belt and freed his hardening cock. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her painted lips parting as she took him into her mouth. The wet sound of her slurping and sucking filled the quiet chamber. She worked him with deep devotion. With long, slow drags of her tongue followed by deeper strokes that made her cheeks hollow. Small moans vibrated from her throat as she bobbed her head.

Zuko’s breath hitched once, but his gaze never left you. Those intense golden eyes burned into yours, watching you attentively while his favorite concubine pleasured him. Heat flooded your body. Your thighs pressed together instinctively as slick wetness gathered between your legs, your core aching with sudden, shameful need. Your brush trembled against the canvas, leaving a slightly crooked line you’d have to fix later. You were intensely, embarrassingly horny with your nipples tightened beneath your robes, and warmth pooled low in your belly with every wet sound Kaori made.

You tried to focus on the painting, on capturing the sharp line of his jaw or the rich crimson of his robes, but it was impossible. The sight of Kaori’s dark hair spilling over his lap, the rhythmic motion of her head, and the way Zuko’s hand eventually tangled in her hair while he continued to stare at you made your mind spiral. Filthy thoughts flooded you: what it would feel like if those strong hands were in your hair instead, if that intense gaze was looking down at you while you knelt between his legs, if he would groan your name in that deep voice as he filled your mouth.

Your breathing grew shallow. You shifted on your feet, trying to ease the throbbing pressure between your thighs, but it only made the wetness worse. A soft, involuntary sound nearly escaped your lips.

“She’s distracting you,” Zuko said suddenly making your body tense. His eyes remained locked on yours. 

Kaori paused, lips still wrapped around him, but Zuko gently tugged her back by the hair.

“Enough, Kaori,” he ordered softly. “Leave us. You are distracting the artist.”

Kaori pulled off him with a wet pop, licking her lips as she looked up at him with a pout. She glanced at you with a mix of jealousy and amusement, then rose gracefully, adjusting her silk robes. With one last sway of her hips, she exited through the side door without a word.

The throne room fell silent except for the faint crackle of distant torches. Zuko remained seated, still exposed and hard staring right at you. You stood frozen for a long moment after Kaori’s departure, feeling the silence of the throne room pressing down on you. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, while your lips were slick with arousal.

“Come here,” Zuko commanded with a low and husky voice. His golden eyes held you captive. 

You swallowed hard and set your brush down. You walked up to the throne slowly.  When you reached him, you sank obediently to your knees before the Fire Lord, your gaze fell on the floor. Heat burned across your face and neck in embarrassment and your mind was spinning. 

Zuko leaned forward, placing his fingers on your chin and gently tilting your face upward. His thumb brushed slowly across your lower lip, as he studied you. “Look at me,” he murmured. You obeyed. The intensity in his scarred, handsome face made you stop breathing for a small moment. Without another word, he leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss. His mouth was warm and firm, tasting faintly of smoke and spice. The tenderness of it made your eyes flutter shut.

Then he gripped your waist and lifted you effortlessly onto his lap, placing you across his thighs. The moment your bodies pressed together, the kiss deepened. His tongue swept into your mouth, passionately dancing with yours. You moaned softly into his mouth, melting against his broad chest as his hands roamed your back.

You tried to pull back for air, gasping, but Zuko wouldn’t let you. He chased your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth with a low growl that sent sparks straight to your core. He placed one hand gently on the back of your head, pushing you closer for another kiss  and the kiss grew even more intense. It was wet, needy, and consuming.

His other hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, sliding up your thigh until his fingers hooked into your panties. He tugged them down your legs in one smooth motion, letting them pool around your ankles before you kicked them aside. Never breaking the kiss, he adjusted you on his lap so you straddled him fully. Your heated core was hovering just above his still-hard cock.

Zuko’s fingers returned between your legs, stroking through your soaked folds slowly. He groaned into your mouth at how wet you were, his thumb circling your swollen clit while two fingers teased your entrance. The pleasure built rapidly under his skilled touch. Your hips rocked helplessly against his hand as the coil of tension tightened inside you.

He kept kissing you through it all with deep, possessive kisses that stole your breath until the pleasure finally crested. You came hard on his fingers with a muffled cry against his lips, your body shaking as waves of intense release crashed over you. 

You trembled in the aftershocks of your orgasm, still straddling Zuko’s lap with his fingers glistening from your release. His golden eyes burned with hunger as he withdrew his hand and tasted you. Before, both his hands gripped your hips instead.

“Ride me,” he ordered.

You nodded breathlessly, heart racing as you positioned yourself over his hard cock. Zuko held himself steady while you slowly sank down. The thick head pushed inside you, stretching your soaked walls. You moaned, eyes fluttering as he slowly lowered you further, inch by inch, until your ass finally met his thighs. He was buried to the hilt, filling you completely.

“It’s so much, My Lord—fuck,” you gasped, closing your eyes at the burning stretch. You had never felt so full before. It bordered on too much, like you were being split open around the Fire Lord’s cock.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

You opened your eyes. Zuko stared up at you with half-lidded intensity, his scarred face flushed with pleasure.

“Now bounce.”He said spanking your ass. 

You yelped at the sting, but it quickly melted into heat. Zuko’s strong hands gripped your hips firmly as you began to move, slamming yourself down onto his length. The initial sting faded fast, replaced by sharp, electric pleasure that raced through every nerve. You moved faster, legs trembling as you held onto his broad shoulders for support.

Zuko threw his head back against the throne with a low groan, watching the way pleasure twisted your features. Your arousal coated his cock and base with every bounce, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing through the throne room. Each bounce had the head of his cock brush perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you, drawing broken moans from your throat.

A loud knock suddenly sounded on the massive doors. “Fire Lord Zuko,” a councilman’s voice called from the other side. “The council awaits your presence for the trade negotiations.”

You froze mid-bounce while your eyes wide with panic. Zuko spanked you once more in warning.

“Continue,” he growled under his breath, golden eyes locked on yours. You continued bouncing on his cock, trying to stay quiet even as the pleasure built again.

He raised his voice toward the door, perfectly composed despite being buried deep inside you. “Ten minutes. I am… occupied.”

The risk of being heard only made you wetter. Zuko’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you harder as you rode him. Your eyes rolled back, hips stuttering before you ground down even more desperately.

Zuko’s large hand slid up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure on the sides to make your head spin. You gasped brokenly, your cunt pulsing and squeezing around him as you kept riding.

“That’s it,” he murmured darkly as lips brushing your ear. “Take your Fire Lord like this. Let me feel how badly you need this throne.”

He exhaled deeply, clearly getting close. You let out a choked sob as your second orgasm crashed over you, squeezing impossibly tight around his cock while waves of intense pleasure tore through you. It was the strongest climax you had ever felt.

Zuko slid further down on the throne and fucked up into you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. Your short, desperate moans filled the space between you as you kept bouncing. His cock twitched hard inside you, and with a deep groan as he came. As he spilled deep within you, a burst of fire escaped his parted lips in a controlled, heated exhale that singed the air above the throne.

You both stayed locked together for a long moment, breathing hard. Eventually, Zuko helped you off his lap. You quickly retrieved your discarded underwear, smoothed down your dress, and returned to your easel on shaky legs, trying to look composed as you picked up your brush again.

The doors opened. Two councilmen stepped inside, bowing deeply. “Forgive us for disturbing you, Fire Lord.”

Zuko adjusted his robes calmly, looking every bit the regal ruler once more. “Only one person may disturb the Fire Lord without consequence. Is the matter from the Avatar?”

“No, my lord. It concerns the Earth Kingdom trade routes…”

You kept painting in silence, cheeks burning with feeling yourself leaking between your legs of residue from your Fire Lord, as they spoke. The rest of the session passed in a haze.

Later that night, back in your modest home, you stood before the mirror and slowly undressed. As your robes slipped from your shoulders, you froze in place. There, on your hips, were distinct handprints from where Zuko’s fiery grip had held you. The burn marks of the Fire Lord lingered on your skin like a secret brand. You traced them gently, a shiver running through you as memories of the throne room flooded back.

Credit: Divider by @steviebbboi and picture by @/heidi_marieeee on Threads

[pinkmirth]

𝐸𝒱𝒜𝒩𝐸𝒮𝒞𝐸.ᐟ ❤︎ ft. firelord zuko!

𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ of all the wonders throughout the four nations, only your cool, gentle touch can quell the fire lord’s heat.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾  ( 8k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, husband!firelord!zuko x water-tribe!wife!reader ( blue eyes / brown skin ), canon divergent universe, established relationship, diplomatic marriage, size difference, temperature play, bondage, blindfold play, sense deprivation, edging, handjob, oral ( m!receiving ), reader is very playful ‘n whimsical, cowgirl position, brat taming ( zuzu’s a liiittle mean ), doggystyle, headlock, power play, creampie, slight fire-breathing, small mention breeding kink, use of pet names, explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇.ᐟ ❥ zuko zuko zuko . . . where do i begin! hubby came back bigger, beefier ‘n sexier than everrr <3 my everlasting crush on him has only grown >.< i just knew i had to eroticize him the very second i saw him cuz LORD! zuzu looks like he could fold you in half, pick it up & put it down in five minutes flat ( a girl can dream . .  ) overall, i am ever so grateful for this atla resurgence! art credits here! thank you for reading, and please enjoy! ❤︎

𝐼𝒩𝒮𝑃𝒪 𝑇𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒦.ᐟ ( ♫ )  cold sweat, tinashe ⨾ skin, rihanna ⨾ warmth, janet jackson ⨾ say yes, floetry ⨾ i like, kut klose ⨾ baby come close, MoKenStef ⨾ so fine, mint condition ⨾ prisoner, the weeknd ⨾ afterglow, flores

zuko is a man of flicker and flame, both singed and strengthened by the very element he rules. yet, the smoke in his lungs suddenly feels less like fire and more like the banded curl of molten iron. 

poor, poor firelord. he’s usually all heat and motion, but this? oh, this is a drowning. it’s the gush of wet, lashing streams, and the heavy press of glacial frost. he is, for lack of a better word, trapped. 

he should’ve known that you only wanted to toy with him. he’d felt the intent in the heavy air of your summons hours ago, should’ve known from the — of it; that he was brought here solely for your amusement, the lord of a mighty nation reduced to a plaything at your absolute liberty. 

it all began when you first approached him that morning. he’d just emerged— well, more like escaped, from an endlessly grueling advisory meeting. a bundle of scrolls was gathered tightly in one large hand while the other palm dragged tiredly over his face. 

that’s when you swept by him, as graceful as the water you bend. you attached yourself to his side, arms looping securely around his bicep. even through the heavy drape of his robes, his arm was impressively thick, deliciously solid. you pressed flush against him, acutely aware of the broad, dense muscle packed beneath crimson silk — all that raw strength hidden under royal finery. 

zuko paused, his gaze dropping to meet yours beneath the shadowy fringe of his dark lashes. the faint curve of a rare smile reached his mouth, just as the tight ache in his shoulders melted away upon your touch. he shifted the scrolls to tuck his arm closer to yours, leaning heavily into the sweet, intoxicating draft of your perfume. more often than not, he’s completely yielding to you, letting your warmth drape over him. 

“are you here to rescue me, or do you simply wish to distract the fire lord?” he murmured, his voice a low, resonant rumble. you catch the embedded sound of something almost playful.

“oh please, dear. why can’t it be both?” you merely hummed, melting into the furnace that is his solid frame. you loved traversing the palace’s endless halls just to catch sight of your regal husband. what a magnificent vision of royalty he was — adorned in deep mahogany and gold, all broad and powerful with a presence so commanding. your mirthful eyes devoured his sharp, handsome features, tracing the stark border of his crimson scar, framed by rich dark hair that cascaded past his shoulder plates, spilling in silky waves all the way down his back. god, you loved him entirely. 

with a saccharine smile, you leaned up on your toes, pressing flush against the breadth of his chest while your soft lips grazed the sensitive shell of his good ear. "meet me in our bedchambers come nightfall," you cooed softly against his jaw, your voice dripping with sweet mischief while your fingers trailed down the rich silk of his sleeve. 

"i have a special . . . surprise for you, but only if you're a good fire-lord and finish attending to your duties first." 

zuko’s breath hitched, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist to keep you close. "a surprise?" he echoed, his voice dropping into a rough, low register that sent a thrill straight through you. "my love, I . . . you know I have a day's worth of scrolls to sign.” 

"then I suggest you read quickly, my lord.” you try to slip away, but he holds you fast, his fastened palm a tether too tight to break from. 

"wait — what do you have in store?" he murmured, a desperate curiosity bleeding into his low tone as his towering frame cast a shadow over yours; his mouth just barely grazing your own, catching the lifting tilt of your smile. 

"just come, silly," you countered softly, pressing a sweetly addictive kiss to melt the corners of his stubborn frown. "you’ll find out soon enough." was your breathed whisper against his warm skin, letting the words ghost over his angled jaw. you gave his bicep one last, lingering squeeze before stepping back out of his embrace, dreamily drifting away down the sunlit hall. 

behind you, zuko stood completely and utterly undone in the middle of the open corridor. the absolute master of fire, now left in a lovedrunk daze — his lips slightly parted, tinted with the residual paint of your favorite hue, while an involuntary flush bloomed rosy-pink across his pale cheeks. you deserted him there, a blushing king caught in the sweet wreckage of a simple kiss. 

vitalized by your promise of a surprise and eager to reunite with you once more, he’d spent the next handful of hours tearing through his duties with a fierce determination. he signed the scrolls required of him, and scattered the ones that only proved to be a waste of his limited time; the rest he bound in delicate thread and sealed with hot, red wax.

before finally abandoning his desk, he bound half of his long dark hair away from his face. zuko stood hunched over the basin, meticulously scrubbing every trace of black ink from the ulnar sides of his palms. he wanted his hands perfectly clean, for he knew he’d be touching you tonight— and thoroughly. 

. . .

a quiet tension blankets the northern palace, but still, you can hear your husband’s approach from the moment he crosses the threshold of the inner court. his heavy, looming footsteps echo down the polished red-lacquer corridors, drawing close, and closer, even closer; vibrating through the screen walls of your quarters until your chest thrums with the rhythm of his arrival. 

zuko walks with an agonizing anticipation, one he can barely hide. every step is a losing battle against the dull ache beneath his imperial belt, a demanding throb that’s grown unbearable after hours of sitting rigid at his oakwood desk. it’s been pooling low in his abdomen since he encountered you that morning — a shameful lust he’d tried to fight off with every scroll he signed. through the thick fabric of his robes, his palm now subtly shifts over the heavy silk, desperately rubbing at his growing bulge. 

inside the room, you're practically vibrating atop your embroidered stool, your heart hammering against your ribs as a manic energy buzzes beneath your skin. the soft rattle of the sliding track warns you that he’s here. with a sudden breath, you hastily force your posture to align into an image of serene normalcy just as the door slowly parts. 

zuko steps fully into the room, the heavy wooden door sliding shut behind him, sealing the two of you in a sudden, suffocating quiet. thick, electric air blankets the bedchamber, dense with the weight of all your unsaid promises. zuko stands by the threshold, his chest rising and falling beneath his heavy imperial pauldrons. 

you turn slightly on your carved rosewood stool, an eager gleam flashing in your vibrant eyes as your gaze rises to meet his in own the reflection of the bronze mirror — his golden eyes are lidded from the weight of the crown, darkened with a bone-deep exhaustion; yet they continue to burn with this fierce, ravenous hunger. in return, he catches the iridescent gleam in your own irises, bright as chilling polar ice. 

a knowing smile touches your freshly painted lips, eager azure eyes catching the way zuko’s throat bobs as his line of vision trails down to your body. he knows exactly what you’re wearing beneath that lengthy, translucent cerulean night robe; or rather, the lack thereof. the sheer silk flows effortlessly over your curves, much like the cresting liquid waves of your frozen home. he finds it to be a refreshing distinction from the stifling heat of his world. 

he’d touched the frosty surface of your shores almost two years ago, arriving by sovereign ship to the southwestern water tribe. you were a mere princess back then, watching enthusiastically from the shadows as he formally navigated talk of a peace pact with your mother and father, the chieftains of the west. you only knew of the fire-lord through word of mouth, but seeing him in person was ever so different. 

from the very moment you laid eyes on him, zuko's stark contrast to your world — honeyed eyes, shockingly fair skin, rugged scar, and vivid red clothes, had you completely enraptured. his domineering, yet calm presence drew you in without effort. you adored the helpless way he would flush a deep red whenever you giggled and waved at him, entirely undoing his rigid, royal posture. nevertheless, your flirting persisted, despite his sheepish reactions and your father’s protective concerns. 

one day, speaking up boldly from the back of an icy council room, you had ultimately proposed a much brighter solution for a unifying pact; a royal marriage.

much to his nation's surprise, the fire lord unexpectedly returned from those frozen lands with water-bending royalty in tow. after discovering your shared goals for your peoples, you and zuko chose to bridge your countries and cultures alike in holy matrimony. both your economies have flourished and cross-national peace has ensued ever since the royal coupling over half a year ago.

it’s been quite some time, but you still feel like newlyweds — and you surely consummate like ones. 

even now, living deep within a crimson palace and married to the master of fire himself, you fill zuko with a reverent awe. he loves how you wear your ancestral blues and carry your culture with such a dignified pride.

an ethereal woman you are, daughter of the ocean who chose to bind herself to a man of the flame. and looking at you now, dolling yourself up at your luxury vanity, content within his palace you truly made feel like a home, he's desperate for even a drop from your sea. 

your husband wordlessly, finally, draws near and closes the distance, enveloping you from behind in a sweltering embrace. his heavy, muscular arms are strewn effortlessly over your shoulders from where you sit. a soft smile blooms on your lips at his sudden presence, quiet giggles slipping past your mouth when he presses a warm, lingering kiss to your temple. 

through the glass of the mirror, zuko catches your reflection. his gold eyes soften, completely drinking you in; from your sweet smile, your intricately dark woven hair, to your warm skin and those crystalline eyes that sparkle like rare sapphires . . . you are, without question, the most breathtaking woman he’s ever known. he nuzzles closer, cheek touching yours until there's no remainder of space left between you, both of your gazes locked onto the beautifully reflected image of husband and wife. 

“said you had a surprise for me. is that right, my queen?” he coos against your jaw, though his arms tighten around you, all longing and possessive. you return an excited hum, eyes twinkling in the mirror.

“i certainly do! it’s in here . . . hm. well, somewhere,” you swivel towards the drawers of your rosewood vanity to rummage through cosmetic items he can’t even begin to name. he leans over to steal a peek, long dark hair swaying over his shoulder, but you catch him right in the act. 

zuko looks ever so precious with his golden eyes blown wide, large hands thrown out in absolute surrender. you almost begin to feel bad; he watches you with such hunger, wholly unassuming of the cruel games you have planned — how hopelessly you’re going to tease him into submission until the break of dawn. 

“no peeking, my lord!” you tease, a playful push against his bicep guiding him around. zuko complies with your touch and shuffles the other way, helpless against the subtle flutter of anticipation brewing low in his belly.

you turn back to your drawers and resume the search, rifling through perfume bottles and jewelry cushions of all sorts while your voice softens into sweet instruction. 

“you’ll have to do something for me, zuko.”

“please, my sweet . . . haven’t I already done what’s required of me?” he audibly groans, a breathless plea as he fights the growing urge to steal a glance. a quiet laugh escapes you at the rare, unguarded youthfulness he only ever reveals in your presence. a tender ache swells in your chest at how he allows his entire guard to drop in your hands. 

“those scrolls? please, my love. that’s what the nation requires of you,” you unceremoniously discard the contents of your drawer, sending a careless flurry of trinkets tumbling out into the open.

he swiftly dodges the chaotic rain of your belongings flying by. a jade hairclip cutting through the air, a heavy paddlebrush following close behind — and then, in a flash, the mesh slip of a red, translucent lace. a sudden memory hits him, forever seared into the deepest crook of his mind; him peeling that very pair off of you with his teeth just a fortnight ago . . . 

“what i expect from my husband is quite a bit different.” you lean into the word with a certain pride, making zuko’s heart skip a fierce, joyous beat. a wave of devotion washes over him; he's more than proud to bear that title for you, proud to hold you as his treasured, although entirely demanding, wife.

you've always been a particular woman, one of specific tastes, and it’s a beautiful puzzle zuko delights in solving. there's a secret, intoxicating thrill he gets in meeting your standards — to provide your every need, protect your joy with his life, deliver exactly what you desire and know he got it right.

he hangs on the silence between you, feeling the sudden shift the moment your breath catches in a soft, triumphant 'ah-hah! ' 

“zuko, my dear . . .” you sweetly begin, rising from your seat and keeping the mysterious surprise safely tucked behind your back. the long, elegant sway of your regal sleeves drapes around you like that of curtains, hiding it all the more. he sways sideways, trying to peer past the silk and catch a glimpse, but you tilt playfully and dance along with him — a brief, silly game you cut short with a soft command: 

“disrobe.” 

his single right brow lifts, a playful ember dancing in his golden eyes as he observes in your expression. he finds no hesitation. 

“you want me to . . . undress?”

“swiftly, please.” 

a rich laugh vibrates in his chest, tickled by the sudden authority in your voice. ever your willing subject, he begins to shed every heavy layer piece by piece; unpeeling his garments and letting the royal finery pool around his feet one by one. intimacy with you isn't something zuko shrinks from, no — he craves it, a sweet but rare indulgence that comes only in stolen hours between the endless distractions of ruling a proud and zealous empire.

your eyes glisten, lingering on the display as he unburdens his shoulders. the heavy pads drop, then he unties and parts his thick robes. zuko sheds the weight of the crown until he stands in nothing but simple trousers and a loose, unfastened vest of deep garnet lined with a gold-spun trim. his biceps knot and flex as his fingers catch the hem to pull his arms out the sleeves, and that’s just when your hand reaches out to stop him. 

“that’s more than enough. you’re doing good, zu. now, sit on the bed.” you take pleasure in his absolute obedience as he plops down at the edge of the frame, his weight sinking into the edge of the mattress. your voice drops to a teasing murmur as you deliver the final rule: 

“close your eyes — and don’t you open them!”

trapped in the dark and blind to your movements, zuko relies entirely on the sounds bleeding into his good ear; the whispered rustle of your airy clothes, the quiet scuffle of your feet as you slip into his blind spot. then comes a touch — a cool, frictionless material of some sort loops around his wrists before the tension pulls tight, his pulse jumping against the fabric as you knot the tail-end to the wooden bedpost. satisfied, you wind the red silk around him, binding him entirely to your whim. 

“okay, zuko. now you can look.” 

fluttered lids part to reveal his golden gaze, peering down as the world comes back into focus. a breath hitches in his throat at the sight of the rich crimson binding him to the frame.

reflexively, he gives a sharp, disbelieving tug at the fabric, a stunned laugh slipping past his parted lips. 

“what is this?” he breathes, his voice a bewildered rumble as he looks from the red silk up to you. 

“remember my dress fitting the other day, love?” 

“I, uh . . I believe so, yes?” zuko stammers, but his answer is more of a question within itself. a helpless flush stains his cheeks while his mind scrambles, wondering what on earth a simple fitting could possibly have to do with the trap of silk biting into his wrists. 

for months, the bitter court officials had bled their grievances into the palace halls, viewing your constant wearing of blue as a slap to the throne, an insult to the nation itself. you've heard their whispers; that your water-tribe attire is simply loud rebellion, a stain on the fire lord’s court. to appease the crown, you gave them their compromises — wearing their scarlet silks to grand meetings and vibrant festivals, but your daily wear remained with the colors of your home. 

when their nagging finally became too loud to ignore, you stepped into the fitting they had arranged, letting them attempt to mold you into a ‘ proper ’ fire-lady. under the cinch of their measuring tapes, you found a secret comfort knowing that zuko not only loved you, but worshipped the ground you walked on, irregardless of the threads on your back. if anything, he preferred the blue, captivated by your beautiful stubbornness they could never burn away. 

“so, they had the most dazzling assortment of silks, just marvelous. i saw such a rich shade of red, it shimmered like rubies . . . anyway, it reminded me of you! and, well, it obviously gave me other ideas.” 

a low, helpless chuckle rumbles in zuko's chest, his golden eyes crinkling with absolute adoration at your sudden rambling. even pinned to the bed frame, he's still entirely captive to the chaos of your charming thoughts, flattered to be the center of them.

“this,” he gestures towards his confines, his bicep tightening as he pulls experimentally against the silk, “is your idea?” a dark ember of amusement flares in his right eye, challenging your authority even as he willingly surrenders to it. 

“patience, husband,” you coo, rising to your feet to close the distance between you. “you’ll see.” you bring a thin strip of the same colored silk up to his face, gently drawing it across his brow. the fleeting warmth of your sweet smile is the last thing he catches before all his vision is stolen away — plunging his senses into a blotted world of unintelligible red. trapped in the thick, crimson dark, he settles into his restraints with a quiet sigh. 

. . .

that’s how the fire lord finds himself entirely bound — captured effortlessly by the one woman he would never, in his wildest dreams, desire to escape from.

around you, the grand bedchambers glow with traditional finery, bathed in shades of warm orange, pristine gold, and burning red. the drawn-open windows invite the moon’s silvered light to spill through flowing gossamer curtains, blessing your union of water and fire. 

but the gentle peace of the night dissolves the moment you shatter the quiet.

still bound to the frame of your shared bed, zuko tests the limits of his confines, a low groan escaping him as he tugs at the fiery crimson ribbon. a restless prisoner, he is, playing into the torment of your game — for a time. he always indulges his darling wife, but only for now. minutes long since passed; several long, countless ones. 

and the wait is finally managing to break him. he sits trembling on the edge of the mattress, staring up at you through a hazy, amber-yellow gaze; blindfold long since fallen, and his vest halfway discarded while it hangs over the round of one brawny shoulder. a teasing smile graces your lips as you lean in, catching his lifted chin with the delicate edge of your manicured finger to lock his eyes with yours. 

your sweet excuse for trapping his wrists had been that his crowned duties have left him far too tense; and what he desperately needed was to dissolve into your cool touch, even if he didn’t know it himself. but as your fingers drifted from the edge of his chin to settle heavily in his lap, the promise of relaxation shifted into the purest form of torment. the clock has fractured into an unmerciful blur. was it twenty minutes? thirty, forty? 

zuko loses all track and meaning of the time that follows. he can't tell, nor can he bring himself to care — not when you spend every agonizing second stroking his weeping cock so painfully slow. you know just when to alter your speed, bringing him to the absolute precipice just to rip it all away. 

it was pure torture when the red silk kept him blind to it; you know how much he loves the sight of his fat cock within your dainty hand, almost too thick for your fingers to touch around it. the last ruined orgasm had been paced so brutally fast, skin shlick-ing with every stroke. the wet, rhythmic sound of your hand jerking him off left dull, wet smacks filling the room until his body was twitching — and as he nearly arrived at his peak, the red satin eventually slipped down his face. when you finally locked eyes, he’d almost been crying . . . almost.

“hnghh, no, no, no, please— not again . . i beg you, my queen, just let me cum for you—fuck!” 

the words melt into a breathless plea as his pelvis strains upward, starving for even the slightest graze of your palm. his hips give a desperate involuntary buck, chasing the ghosting pleasure of your friction, but you hold the line; hand going completely still.

a dark, heavy whimper vibrates deep in zuko’s chest, a sound so beautifully broken it nearly falters your resolve. but not quite. his climax is ruined yet again, the fifth unmerciful theft of the night, and his entire frame shudders with a deep, aching fatigue as he reaches the absolute limit of your torment.

thanks to your doing, he’s now you in complete disarray — scattered hair falling wildly over his eyes, his sweat-sheen chest heaving with every ragged breath, powerful arms bound to the bedposts at the mercy of your every sinister whim. he can’t fucking stand being unable to touch you.

“i did what you asked,” zuko says bluntly, his voice clipped and raw. his amber gaze burns dark, hopelessly locked onto the sheer blue fabric draping carelessly over the bare expanse of your brown thighs. “I finished my duties . . I am here, yet you tease me.” 

“you sound rather impatient, zuko,” you hum, your manicured finger tracing a slow, agonizing circle over the sticky, weeping crown of his sensitive cockhead, delighting in the way he quivers. “tell me, my love . . . is the fire lord begging?” 

zuko's jaw tightens, the flexor muscle of his wrists tensing against the silk of his confines. “I w-wasn’t begging,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, raspy lower register. “please, just . . . tell me what you want from me. i’ll do anything, just let me—” he breaks off with a rough swallow, and the words die in his throat.

you let out a content hum, moved by how completely unraveled he’s become, just for you. you slide your body flush against his, letting the cool cerulean silk of your dress drag over his burning thighs. “anything I want, huh?” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss. a desperate nod escapes him, the unraveled strands of his hair swaying with the motion. 

“well, i'm about to tease some more, so I need you to stay absolutely still for it.” 

a dark realization dawns upon the fire lord; he never knew his darling wife held such a sadistic streak. he silently mourns the countless times he could have made you cum by now.

“thought we'd be . . pleasing one another tonight,” he mumbles, chest heaving. the plush bow of your lips curve into a slow, knowing grin, your gaze dropping to the lewd display of his twitching dick before you reply, “but i’m enjoying the sight of you like this. you have no idea how much it satisfies me, love . . . do you not want to please your wife?” 

“. . . you're a sly woman when you wish to be.” a pained, breathless laugh escapes him, his rigid length twitching helplessly between his thighs. the sweltering heat of his blood chills slightly against the open air of the room, a brief, phantom relief. “you know I need more from you.” 

“I think what you need, zuko, is to cool down.”

“what I need is to cu—”

“don’t worry, my love.” you cut off his breathless demand with a soft, shushing hum. your palm cradles his jaw as you smooth out his unraveled hair, your lips catching the heat of his skin as you press a kiss to his sweating temple. “I have just the thing.” 

in that very moment, you decide to shift the game and draw upon an element of your own. zuko’s no mere stranger to adding a heavy scorch to the bedroom, and the sweltering effect of his bending is never anything you can't handle or easily heal with your own two hands. tonight, you see no harm in turning the tables.

your focus shifts to the nearby glass pitcher, siphoning a liquid ribbon into the air. with a sharp twist of your wrist, the droplets solidify, crystallizing into smooth, firm blocks of ice. 

before he can utter a word, you plant the frozen ice against his bare skin with intention. one block rests at the divot of his lighting-scarred solar plexus, and another the subtle dip between his thick, firm pecs, while the third one slides smoothly down the rippled plane of his abs. with a flick of your will, a final piece glides across the delicate ridge of his collarbone. as the ice begins to melt atop his heated skin, the thawed water tracks down his torso, pooling at his pelvis until it drips heavily down his cock. 

a full-body shudders wracks zuko's frame as the sudden cold slides down the throbbing length of him. the ice cubes glide over his flesh, weeping condensed streams of melted water that dribble down his muscled form. the natural heat of his body takes over to act as a forge; with a subtle hiss, the water sizzles against his skin, instantly evaporating into a misted steam that lifts in lazy, curled wisps off his bare chest. it's an instinctive reaction — like splashing lukewarm water directly onto lava-hot coal.

“are you cooling down already, husband?”

“hah, please . . did you think it would be— mm, t-that easy?”

as he predicted, the frost doesn't last. 

the fever-heat of his skin conquers the cold in seconds, rendering the ice useless against his burning flesh. a slow smile curves your lips at the realization, prompting a sudden shift in your approach; to fight fire with fire. a flame, you might not have, but you can always trade your element for the raw heat of your own body.

dropping low, your robe pools around your ankles as you settle between his parted, muscled legs. your palms anchor securely against the warm caps of his knees, pinning his attention. locking your gaze with his hazy gold eyes, your tongue slowly glides across the tip, collecting the warm salt of his precum as your lips part to swallow him into the pliant opening of your wet mouth. 

“— ohhh, fuck.”

beneath folded legs, you feel your clit throb against the heel of your foot in response to the rough moan that practically vibrates straight from his chest and down into your throat. you pull back enough to loll your tongue out, swiping it slow and wet across his reddened, weeping tip. your crystalline eyes are lively, full of mirth as you hold him captive under your stare. zuko’s amber gaze squeezes shut at the sudden onslaught of your tongue, a sharp hiss catching in his throat.

“so naughty, baby . . .” he groans, "gonna keep me here all night, hm? punish me?” 

“it isn’t a punishment, zuko,” you break the contact with a soft pop, a sliver of saliva tethering your lips to him. the words leave you breathlessly, trailing off your tongue like the sweet, contoured sound of half a moan. “i jus’ wanna play with you. don’t you wanna play with me?” 

“I would if I could,” he manages to choke out, teeth gnawing hard on his lower lip whenever your tongue swirls back under the ridge of his spit-streaked cock. “y—you’re the one who doesn’t wanna play fair. I didn’t tie myself up, now did I?” 

you drink in the ragged heave of his chest beneath the garnet vest, the tensive muscles of his forearms bunching hard against his constraints. the sheer intrigue of his submission intoxicates you, and a wicked thrill sparks within you at the thought of it — how delicious it would be to have him whining, crying for you, completely unraveled as he tugs fruitlessly against the red satin.

“I should punish you, now that you mention it,” you muse, drawing back just enough to catch your breath while your palm strokes a slow, wet path down his pulsing dick. 

before he can manage out an answer, you dive back down again, burying his thickness to the very hilt until the tip of it hits the back of your constricting throat. you have him swallowed to the base, so much so that your senses are entirely overcome; your husband is the only thing left to taste, to smell, to breathe. a faint, involuntary tinge of smoke permeates the air as his internal fire flares in shock. 

 “shit! you’re s—so bad,” zuko heaves, his muscled arms straining powerlessly against withering ribbon. 

“am I?” you wipe a wet shine of moisture away from your plush, spit-streaked lips with the back of your hand, rising slowly to your feet. zuko’s darkened gaze follows you, his heart hammering against his ribs as he realizes exactly where you’re steering this game. you had already unburdened him of his trousers and reduced him to that open vest, and now you're matching his nakedness with your own. 

slowly, you unloop your robes and step out of your soft blue silk, letting the cerulean fabric carelessly drop away. you step onto the mattress to mount him, completely stripped— your legs throwing themselves over to bracket his wide, meaty thighs as you straddle his lap, the your bare mound of your cunt sliding a mess of arousal over the hardness of him, cock jumping at the brush of hot, wet skin.

“you are troublesome, wife,” zuko manages out through grit teeth, his jaw dropping as his head tilts down to watch the exact moment you sink onto him. you settle over every wide, throbbing inch until you've taken the entirety of him into the tight, melting warmth of your creamy cunt.

“hngh, and you should . . . s—stay still,” you mewl, your teeth sinking into your own plush lip while your nails dig deep crescents into the solid breadth of his broad shoulders.

you lift yourself up, slow and agonizingly careful, before letting gravity drop you back down onto the raw entirety of his length. a shared moan tears from your throats at the impact, your bodies pulsing deliriously around one another. zuko has always been a massive stretch, so you shift into slow, shallow rolls of your hips, taking in the immense width of him until the initial, stinging burn begins to ebb away.

“untie me.”

“mm— noooo, zuko . . .” you both know that entirely defeats the purpose. 

“can’t believe you’re— fuck —doing this to me,” zuko groans, his patience finally shattering as he rocks his hips upward beneath you. the sudden, deep shift of his length inside you forces a pitched whine from your throat. he's reached his absolute limit, both with these confines and his own composure — starved of your touch, driven mad by the sight of his beautiful goddess of a wife bouncing on his cock while his hands remain pathetically, incapably pinned.

glaring down with pure disdain at the obstacle of fabric cutting into his straining wrists, the fire lord decides that your lengthy game is over. 

with carefully exerted bending, he coaxes just the slightest spouts of fire out of his warmed palms, letting the heat of a focused spark catch onto the crimson silk until it begins to catch in flames.

you're so caught in the intensity of riding him that the change goes unnoticed, until the scent of smoke reaches you; fire. your eyes snap open to see the speckled remnants of inflamed fabric and ash dissipating up into the air in burning, golden specks. 

“z—zuko!” you whine, just as he rubs his wrists where they were bound. an anxious laugh leaves you once the realization settles in; the constraints are gone, and he's no longer bound by your rules. now that he’s freed, you know he’ll have his way with you. when you meet his eyes, it concludes that the game is over, and he’s won. he peers at you with a dangerous, burning hunger, like that of a fucking predator. 

“what shall I do with you . . .” the fire lord muses, “now that i’m free?” you aren't able to argue, or comply. there simply isn't any time. 

he loops a strong, thick forearm around your waist, pulls you flush to the solid wall of his body, full breasts squished to his broad pecs, your peaked nipples grazing his chest in a way that makes you shudder against him. he tightens his hold around your middle, hot fingers stroking down the curve of your spine. 

then, the roots take hold with a searing, digging grip.

“start bouncing.” 

frozen by the shock of his freedom, you hesitate — and your husband immediately claims the movement to take absolute hold of you. his hot fingers cling to the soft flesh of your waist, and he wastes no time lifting your hips, hoisting you up only to drop you back onto his erect cock.

the loudest moan of the night slips from your throat, a bruised, sweet thing that sounds something like a whine, and half like a wail. it's pure nectar to him, so saccharine it’s almost cloying. zuko leans into the sound, aiming to pry out so much more.

he sets a brutal, drilling pace from beneath you, bucking upward to crash against the rise and fall of your pliant body, all as his hands slink up to give your bouncing breasts a thorough squeeze. his firm hips piston up to meet you with relentless, driving thrusts as he forces your weight to slam down hard against his own. 

all you can do is cry out through every heavy drag of his fat cock within you. a vulnerable whimper escapes your lips, arms looped tightly around his neck, fingers dig frantically into his skin for any semblance of an anchor while the girth of him stretches you out with every upwards surge of his tilting hips. your tongue lolls out to trace the slick heat of his throat, dragging slow and wet up the line of his perfect jaw. you press your lips against the thick vein pulsing in his neck; pulled taut from all the raw energy he exerts into fucking himself deep inside you.

“you win . . . fu—fuck, zu, y-you win,” you whine, the globes of your ass jiggling helplessly against his pounding. “zuko, p-please, too fast— you’re too fast, my love . . . i can’t — hngh!” 

a dark, gravelly laugh vibrates right against your throat, his hot pulse hammering against your chest. “oh, no. you don't get to call a timeout,” he grunts out, a rough, commanding rumble that cuts straight through your whines as he watches your face unravel — lips agape, eyes welled up with precious tears. his thick forearm locks tighter around your waist as his pelvis crashes up into yours with unmerciful force, giving you absolutely no room to breathe. “you wanted to play, yes?" more than anything, he'd consider it provocation.

"so don’t scream for a 'slow down' now — take it. it's all for you.” 

before your lungs can even claim their next breath, zuko slides out of you entirely; having decided you deserve it much rougher for the constraints you placed upon him. a small pout touches your lips at the sudden ache of his absence, but the fire lord pays your frustration no mind. he's far too focused on delivering the consequences of your little stunt. 

effortlessly, his heavy palms flip you over and guide you flat onto your tummy — your lower back dipping into a sharp, deep curve that hoists your hips high into the air; the most perfect arch. left exposed and shivering with anticipation, your ass impetuously wiggles against the heavy bob of his waiting erection, desperate to feel him. a low, raspy chuckle vibrates in his throat, deeply satisfied by the hunger that now consumes you; just as it did him. 

“you want it? huh?” he lilts, his breath hot against your skin as he deliberately presses the crown of his cock to your opening. instead of sinking inside, he slides around your fluttering pussy, dragging the thick, veiny underside over your rear.

he taps the sticky crown of his cock against the soft flesh of your supple ass cheeks, a deliberate, maddening friction that denies you the very thing you're begging for. a dry laugh catches in his throat as your posture shudders utterly reveling in the sweet, broken whines that spill past your lips at the torment.  maybe now you'll get it. you're only feeling a fraction of what you put him through.

“n—need it so bad, d-don’t tease, husband . . .”

“of course, my sweetness.” his voice is a low, deceptive whisper right before his hips crash forward. it's downright mean, how he pushes inside you with a sudden, ruthless depth. zuko stuffs every last inch of him to the absolute hilt, done so viciously that the air is knocked clean from your lungs. your chest heaves against the mattress, voice cracking into broken, stuttered pieces as his name shatters throughout the room, like that of a priceless gloss vase.

“zuko, s’deep — y-you’re so . . so deeeeep,”

“hm . . what was that?” zuko murmurs out feigned ignorance, his wide palm flattening against the small of your back to enforce a deeper, sharper curve to your spine. the visceral slap of skin on skin rings out like thunder with every punishing smack, a lewd tempo that fills the grand bedchambers — a thick, sweltering sound so loud you're certain the advisors and palace maids a world away could easily track the . . . scandalous nature of your night. 

“zu—zu-ahh . . z—ukooo!”

“is that how you properly address your husband?” he taunts, his voice a low rumble as he bites back a growing smile. the damp end of his tongue flits out, lazily running across the edge of aligned teeth, “how you address the fire lord?”

“p-pleaseeee—” before the word can fully escape you, zuko answers your whine by stalling his momentum, feeding you long, agonizingly slow strokes. with every deliberate thrust, your body is throttled forward, melting deep into the crimson bed as you lose all coordination. a helpless sob catches in your throat, your drooling mouth agape against the mahogany bedding as you take the full, thick mass of him in slow motion, his damp skin dragging within yours. his pelvis presses hard against your ass, the heavy stickiness of his balls tapping your puffy slit

“d-do . . . mmph, wh—whatever you want." you exhale through a whining plea, weight sinking into the foam of the bamboo mattress. maybe if you appease him, stroke his ego, he'll take it easy on you. "p-punish me, zu . . . please, jus' punish me.” 

“and get you off so quickly? impatient little thing,” he only tsks, his hand comes down hard against your backside. the reddening sting forces out your small gasp. “you're not cumming until I deem it fit.”

zuko shifts his weight, sliding his stance closer until his torso pins your back flat against the mattress. leaning his upper body forward over your shoulder, his arm snakes around to trap you by the sensitive curve of your throat. he loops the thick, solid crook of his elbow right beneath your chin, pressing the rounded meat of his massive forearm against your windpipe.

with an deliberate flex, he brings about a deliciously suffocating squeeze. your throat is locked tight in the vice of his strength, constricting your oxygen until your lungs begin to burn hollow from the desperate lack of it. unable to draw a clean breath, every heavy push of his length inside you makes him feel twice as thick. 

the room spins into hazy blur, making you acutely aware of how his unhurriedly he drags inside you; stretching you out in agonizing slow motion while you choke out muffled, desperate whines against the crushing authority of his arm.

he fucks into you slowly from behind, his large frame completely curled over your spine while he holds you trapped in the thick vice of his headlock. you helplessly muffle your whimpers and drool all over the solid breadth of his meaty, flexing bicep. from above, the fire lord ignores the chaos of the room to simply stare down at your face, a wave of profound adoration breaking across his features for third time today, because you belong entirely to him — his pretty, precious baby.

“that’s what it takes for you to act right?” zuko huffs out an incredulous laugh, “you’re finally being so good, love . . . taking me so fucking well.” the words are thick with an intoxicating pride as his warmed breath dusts your cheek.

never does it come with one; but without warning, his palm delivers another sharp, loving smack to your right cheek, leaving a trailing sting that audibly sizzles against your damp skin. before another sound can fully leave your throat, his lips drop lower, a searing kiss pressed possessively to the very base of your neck, the curve of your spine, the crown of your hair. in every aspect, he consumes you.

you're balanced precariously on the absolute edge, and zuko can tell. your vision begins to spot, your entire frame stringing tense and your mind going beautifully dumb the exact moment you finally release your sweet, gushing juices all over him. eyes brimming over with heavy gemmed tears, he fucks you thoroughly through the crash of your orgasm; rocking deep into the stubborn squeeze of your convulsing pussy.

zuko's rigid and twitching inside you, his amplified volume matching the gradually careless rhythm of his thrusts. a rough groan tears from his throat as he openly relishes the slick, heavy friction of his veins dragging wet and sloppy from deep within your walls. even with the lingering shock of your own orgasm, it's clear to you that he’s soon to follow suit. truthfully, you're amazed that he managed to hold out up until now; though, not for much longer.

“you’re being so good to me, sweetness . . . letting it all go just for your husband, cumming all over me . . . ooh, you’re making me feel too fucking good, can’t hold back anymore — i'm next, my love, m’right behind you — fffuck.”

you can feel the very heat of his seed flooding your inner walls as he cums hard and deep, muttering jumbled obscenities out into the humid air. misted puffs of smoke curl past his agape lips along the calls of your name. his hips give a final, desperate jerk, his throbbing cock spouting thick ribbons of white until he’s completely drained himself inside you. 

his chest heaves, glistening in the low orange lighting as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting to trace soothing, balmy circles over the flesh he so ruthlessly manhandled. a quiet moan escapes your lips, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch releases your strung muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly stretched begins to settle into your bones.

you give a small, helpless whine when his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot, his touch a tender mercy. you know, of course you do that you are covered in the visual evidence of his hunger, but you choose to pay the marks no mind until the sun rises. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are far too used to seeing the fire lord’s signature handprints painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.

his chest heaves in the dark as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting from manhandling to tracing soothing circles over the skin of your body he so ruthlessly possessed. you let out a soft, trailing moan, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch unties your muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly filled and stretched, in all those creative positions, begins to settle into your bones as a sweet fatigue. 

a small, sharp whine slips from your lips when zuko’s calloused thumbs knead an especially tender spot. you know that he's ravaged you. you probably look as undone as you feel, and it's going to be painfully obvious for anyone looking at you to tell. though you can't yet see the crimson marks he left in his wake, you've already decided those are tomorrow’s problem. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are already far too used to seeing the fire lord’s permanent signature painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.

“i'm sorry, love . . i'm so sorry,” zuko whispers into the crook of your neck as he continues his slow massage, his touch smoothing over the marks he left behind. “just can’t control myself when it comes to you, my queen.” 

“mmmnn . . . it’s, ah . . s’okay,” you slur against the mahogany bedding. a thick, post-orgasmic drowse claims your senses, your eyelids fluttering wearily the last of your strength dissolves into the sheets. he’s truly managed to unburden you of every last ounce of your energy. 

tenderly, zuko rolls you onto your back and gently cleanses your skin, taking a soft handcloth from your drawer to wipe away any slick evidence of love-making; even as the dark temptation to stuff himself back inside your sweet pussy and keep you plugged with his dripping cum starts to become a greater urge. zuko fights it, deciding he can save the intention of impregnating you for another, more purposeful night — that is, if your womb hasn't already . . . taken his heir after the dozens of positions he molded you into all in one night. 

a feather-light kiss grazes your forehead, tender and warm, just before the red covers are drawn up over your shoulders to ward off the chill. zuko watches you drift into slumber, a soft chuckle escaping him as you mutter a sleepy, incoherent complaint about the 'unfairness' of him being able to melt away your icy defenses. settling into bed, he spoons you close, wrapping his thick, strong arms around you to keep you snug against the solidity of his chest. 

“rest while you can, love," he whispers adoringly into your hair, smelling of rich imported oils, a tinge of his own smoke, and the salt of your sea. "because when the sun rises . . . i’m taking my turn with you and that ribbon.”

© 𝒫𝐼𝑁𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻.ᐟ ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. reblogs are highly appreciated! please and thank you! ❤︎

𝒯𝒜𝒢𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯! ❤︎ @shawtuzi @snore-3 @icyoni @ashleyneedsthat @zukofucker777 @thesmutconnoisseur ⨾ I hope you enjoy, my loves! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[ooohladymaria]

"Sons of sand"

An artwork of mine that blew up on tik tok

❗️Please don't repost without credit❗️

[qirarey123]

Zutara+Steambabies family photos 🔥🌊

[eureicca]

Zutara Month 2021 Day 1: Momtara and Dadko

Yes it’s already ZK month here in my country. I was suppose to do a Fire nation version of this but irl keeps on getting in the way 🥲. Momtara and Dadko is usually my go to zk fics, especially when I am in need of a boost of serotonin. I do plan to draw some of my fav fics that has this prompt, but if you have fic suggestions feel free to tell me about it!

Expect for 5 more entries hopefully I won’t be late in posting it :))

[eureicca]

[ID: A digital colored drawing of Zuko and Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender. The first panel shows Zuko and Katara alone at night underneath the glow of the moon, seemingly in a serious conversation. Katara is wearing a red crop top and loose pants as well as gold arm bands. Meanwhile, Zuko is dressed in red robes and a black cape. Katara has her right hand on Zuko's chest. She says, "Wow. Your heart is freaking out." Zuko, with his left hand around her hand on his chest, answers, "Yeah." The second panel shows Katara with hesitation in her eyes. With her eyebrows furrowed, she asks, "Because of me?" The third panel shows Zuko looking at her earnestly.]

Tentatively, she reached out to touch his chest and his heart freaked out worse as her warmth spread through him more effectively.

“Wow,” she chuckled. “Your heart really is freaking out.”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Because of me?”

He nodded.

to read more check out Unsteady by @cynical_mystic on AO3

Also, Mimi on Instagram or Twitter is one of the artists for this fic too please go and see her work!!

@zkbigbang

[eureicca]

Zutara Twitter made me do it

[eureicca]

🔞🔞🔞TW: SMUT🔞🔞🔞

Click keep reading to see full image

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Ever since I’ve read Solace of Night by @formerlygoldilocks (alongside the artworks of @favlie link here & @fghartwork link here), Comforts of Night by @gemgirl28, Warfare at Dawn by nire, The Skins of Diplomats by @fictionissocialinquiry, and Crashing of Tides by Lliyk. I’ve been itching to draw a nsfw fanart of Zuko and Katara in their vigilante persona, so imagine them after their mission they would “cool down”. I don't know if I'll be posting more nsfw here since I can properly tag here, while on Twitter it is risky to do so.

[bootoji]

Love Fushiguro

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Toji x SugarBaby!FemReader

Synopsis: You’ve been involved in a sweet situationship with Toji Fushiguro for 3 years. Money and sex are the trade-off for a life of luxury. Over the years, you seem to have blurred the lines between sugaring and wanting a life with Toji.

part 4: You try to pick your life after the Fushiguros destroy it but it’s not that simple. You have to pick your battles and sometimes….you lose

[part 1], [part 2], [part 3]

“Were you expecting my husband...Bunny?” She smirks. You step back as she walks inside. Her heels click away as she walks towards the kitchen. She sets her purse down.

“I didn’t know,” You whisper.

“Do you have tea? Why don’t you put some on? Let’s have a chat.” She smiles, climbing up and sitting on a stool. You quickly send an SOS text to Satoru before walking out to the kettle. Anna taps her acrylic nails on the counter, the whole time sending your nerves up the wall. Your hands shake as you hand her the tea.

“This is my favorite tea. Did Toji buy it?” She smirks. You don’t respond, only stand on the other side of the island. She takes a sip and wipes the corner of her mouth.

“Can we just get this over with?” You whisper. She laughs, throwing her head back.

“You’ve been fucking my husband for who knows how long....You don’t get to rush this, you little whore.”

Ouch. You flinch at her words. She tilts her head before turning and looking at the apartment from her seat.

“Did you design this yourself?” She asks. You dig your nails into your palm and nod.

“How long have you been fucking my husband?” She asks. You take a deep breath, trying to convince your heart you’re not in danger.

“4 years.” You whisper your voice, shaking at every word. You’ve never been in a confrontational situation. You grew up always getting your head down to avoid trouble. Now you are smack in the middle of it with a deranged housewife.

“4 years. We’ve been married for 6 years. That’s a long time to be a mistress.” Anna pulls out a pink vape and takes a pull.

“There’s no smoking.” You mumble, picking at your nails. She chuckles.

“I pay for this place so I can do what I want.” She responds, taking another hit. You don’t make eye contact, which makes her laugh. She lays the vape on the table. You remember how much Toji hated you smoking, and you wonder if he hated it because it reminded him of her.

“You had no idea, Toji and I owned this building, did you?”

Your eyes snap toward her direction. She holds her belly and throws her head back laughing. She wipes the fake tears from the corners of her eyes before looking at you with another demeaning smile.

“Toji put you on the top floor with no neighbors. He put you in a little box, my love. God, do you think you’re the first and only woman he’s cheated on me with? Gave this false lifestyle. I always find out. Now, how are you going to pay me back?” She asks, taking a hit from her vape again. You play with the end of your shirt. She gets up from her seat and knocks the teacup over, spilling the liquid everywhere. She approaches you. You flinch when she raises her hand. Anna smiles before touching your cheek. She gives it a pat.

“How much did my unfaithful husband pay you every time you spread those legs?” She asks, taking a hit from her vape and blowing it into your face. The smell of mango makes you dizzy, and you step back. Anna uses her foot to hit the inside of your foot, making your left foot move, spreading your legs. She blows into your face again.

“I want every cent back. You’re going to pay it back. There’s not a company in this country that doesn’t bend over for my father. Once I leak your name, you will never be able to work in this country. Do you understand?”

“I don’t know how much he’s spent on me. I have some saved up. I can pay you that and-”

“How much?” She cuts you off.

“Half -half a million.”

She laughs that annoying high-pitched laugh. Throwing her head back, holding her belly.

“Little girl, you don’t even know how to trick right! What is Mei-Mei teaching at the dollhouse? Dear god. Did you think this was going to be forever? He would leave me for you. Ha-Hahaha!” She laughs, buckling over as embarrassment fills your veins. You want to crawl into a hole and die. She stops abruptly and looks over your tearful expression.

“Dear God....Toji...Toji was your first. He was your first time wasn’t he?” She whispers with a look of almost sorrow, but it vanishes quickly into a smile. She covers her mouth to hold in her laughter as you look away, not wanting her to read you anymore. Anna grabs her purse and pulls down her shades.

“I’ll have my accountant look over our account, and I will send the bill. The amount you owe me will break you. Why don’t you go beg Mei-Mei for another job at Dollhouse? It’s the best I can do. I wouldn’t want to put you in a company where you’ll sleep with another married man. But that is what you’re good at. I’ll be in touch, Bunny...Do answer.” She shouts before leaving the apartment. Your legs give out, and you crumble to the floor, breathing heavily. You grab at your chest, clawing at your heart. The apartment began to tilt as your brain tries to find comfort for you. I’m going to die, the thought sends your body further into fight or flight mode. With all the blood rushing to your ears, you fail to hear Satoru and Suguru calling your name. Satoru scoops you up and carries you to the bathroom. Suguru turns on the shower as Satoru rocks you.

“Hey. Hey. Come back. Breathe one two three.” He counts. Your heart lets up. The shaking slows down, but you keep your eyes closed, listening to the sound of the shower. Waterfall. It calms you slowly as Satoru strokes your back. It’s your calming. You forgot about that. It’s been so long since you had a panic attack.

“I’ll clean up the spill,” Suguru whispers, leaving the bathroom. Satoru kisses your forehead as you steady yourself in the silence of the room. The last time you had a panic attack was when you failed an exam after cramming all night. Disappointment drives you to panic attacks. Your poor parents. You’ve shamed them in the worst way possible.

“Your parents......they’re not disappointed in you,” Satoru whispers. You open your eyes and stare up at his blue ones. They look so peaceful, like you could drift away in them for all of eternity. You push away from him and stand up with shaky legs. He helps you to the living room. You sit down and tell them about Anna.

“Fuck her. Listen, I will give her the money-”

“No. I’m not going to drag you into this.”

“You’re not in this alone. We can help you-”

“I need to figure this out alone. I appreciate you guys wanting to help, but I refuse to get you caught up in my mess. I’ll get her money back.” You take a deep breath and slouch on the couch. Satoru joins you he throws his arm around your shoulder.

“I need to move the fuck out of here. ASAP.” You sigh. The next few days, you and Satoru spend packing. You fully move back into your old apartment. You haven’t heard from Toji, which is probably for the best. Anna is surely insane and isn’t going to let you live peacefully. You’ll pay her and disappear for sure. Satoru rests his head on your lap. The two of you started binge-watching something of his choosing, but you haven’t been paying much attention. The worries of how much you owe Anna are eating you alive.

“We should do something. Crazy?” Satoru suddenly sits up. You nod, encouraging him to go on. Listening to your best friend, the two of you end up fulfilling your dream at Twister Twos piecing and tattoo shop. Shoko walks into your living room and eyes you, then Satoru, and finally Suguru. Using her pointer and pinky finger, she points to you and Satoru.

“Why are these idiots in their underwear with ice on their genitals?” She laughs. Suguru smirks.

“They got pieced.”

“Jesus.”

“So worth it,” Satoru mumbles. You give a thumbs up. Shoko plops next to you on the couch.

“Mei-Mei said you could work the bar. There’s a position open.” She replies, placing her feet on your coffee table.

“Whoa, whoa, what?” Satoru winces as he sits up.

“Dom doesn’t pay me much. I want to earn money fast. The quicker I get to pay Anna back, the quicker she leaves me alone.” You reply. He shakes his head.

“All three of us could just chip in and pay-”

“I said no. This is my mess. I’ll fix it. She just wants her money back.”

Shoko shakes her head. “It’s never about the money. It’s about humiliating you until she’s bored. I grew up with a bat shit insane mother. I would know.”

“Guys. It’s okay.” You smile even though your heart and brain were fighting each other. You want to tuck your tail in, run back home, but the thought of your parents sends you into the abyss. Their looks of disappointment and judgment. They would disown you. They raised you to be the best and strive for the best. They had you when they were older, so their values often aligned with what they grew up on, and no room for change. Your older brother was their perfect child. Successful. Perfect grades. Good at sports. You? An Accident. A girl. A mistake. You were pushed to be perfect like him, and where you failed, you felt it. You shake your head as Shoko holds your hand. You give her a soft smile. As soon as you turned 18, you hauled ass out of your hometown. You made a promise with your parents that you wouldn’t come back until you were just as successful as your brother. If you returned home now, what would they think? Disappointment. You can hear your father’s voice. You plug your ears, drowning him out. Satoru’s laughter snaps you back, and you look over to him, smiling. He holds your hand, and you nod.

5 weeks later, you stand behind the bar at the DollHouse, making 10 times as much as you did at the dry cleaning place. A guy winks before slapping down a big tip. You tuck it into the bra and keep making your rounds.

Mei-Mei smirks, watching you from upstairs. She pulls out her phone, snaps a photo of you, and sends it to Toji. Her phone rings instantly.

“Bunny is out of the fox house, huh?” She smirks, leaning on the rail.

“Mei-Mei....” Toji whispers.

“When she came here a few weeks ago, I thought it was a joke. You would never share her, but it must be true? The guys have lined up to get that one. I can’t tell you how many offers I’ve-”

“Mei... Fire her-”

“Anna says she owes her a lot of money. She is working off her debt.” Mei-Mei replies, laughing.

“Bunny doesn’t owe her anything. I never spent anything from our account.”

“I hate married couples. You guys figure it out. I’ll keep an eye on Bunny.” Mei-Mei ends the call as Anna walks up the stairs.

“Bottle service.” Anna smiles, walking to the VIP room. Mei-Mei calls down to the bar to request bottle service. You leave your post with the goods and head upstairs. Bottle service always gets you a good tip, so you are excited. All the excitement leaves your body when your eyes land on Anna. Mei-Mei motions you over. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards your doom. Anna takes a hit from her vape before smiling at you. You place the items on the table and quickly turn to excuse yourself, but Anna doesn’t let you.

“Bunny, you’re here to entertain. You’re a bottle girl, so entertain us.” She laughs. Your soft eyes plead with Mei-Mei. Mei-Mei opens her mouth to object, but Anna throws her hand up.

“Entertain me. You’ve done so well with my husband; now it’s my turn. I want to see what drove him so crazy that he would actually step out on our marriage for it.” She sits up smiling. Anna places her red bottoms on the table and presses play on the speaker. The music starts, and you stare at her, waiting for the ground to hopefully collapse and swallow you whole. Anna kicks the table, scaring you out of your thoughts.

“I said fucking dance!” She shouts. You slowly move your hips and turn away from her.

“Bunny, that’s enough.” Mei-Mei jumps in. Anna reaches into her bag and throws money towards you. You watch the bills fall to the floor.

“There’s the earnings you litte sl-”

“Bunny, you’re dismissed for the night.” Mei-Mei jumps in again. You leave the money and walk out with the little dignity you have left. Mei turns to Anna.

“Toji cheated on you. Going after her isn’t going to help your marriage. Leave the girl alone.”

“Mei-Mei, I am just getting started.”

You grab your things from the back rooms and leave the Dollhouse swiftly. You stand outside, about to call an Uber, when Toji appears.

“No. Stay away from me! You and your crazy fucking wife deserve each other.”You shove his chest, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Why are you working here?” Toji asks, ignoring your comments. You turn away from him, crossing your arms.

“I have to pay your wife back and-”

“You don’t owe her anything. I used my own money separate from her account.”

“She is stalking me and making my life a living hell. I’ve tried to put my degree to use for a decent-paying job, and I get turned away before I can even get a proper interview. Because of her! Both of you have ruined my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? That’s it?”

“Bunny, don’t worry about Anna. I’ll pay her back.” Toji steps towards you as your eyes have begun to blur. He pulls you into a hug. Your brain tells you to shove him away, but your heart…your heart knows these arms like no other. You allow Toji to hug you in silence.

“Let me take you home.” He mumbles. You sniffle and nod. The ride back to your place is quiet as the familiar structures speed by. You begin chewing your bottom lip as the laundromat comes into view.

“How…How did you know I moved here?”

Toji coughs and loosens his tie.

“I purchased Dom’s business so-”

“You and your wife are so fucking sick. You’re stalking me! Stay the hell away from me!” You scream, getting out of his car and slamming the door. You rush inside and upstairs, trying your best not to break down further. You slam your front door and lean your back against it as you slide down to the floor. You bring your knees to your chest, and you cry. Two minutes into your crying session, there’s a knock at the door. Toji leans his head against the door.

“Bunny…I don’t know how many times I can say sorry.”

“Can you pay her off and both of you get out of my life.”

“Bunny….You know I can’t do that. I’ll pay her off but…I need to…I want to be in your life.”

“As what?”

Toji is quiet on the other side. You stand up and place your ear to the door.

“As your person.” He mumbles. Person?

“I want to get married someday. You can’t even promise me that. Do you love her? Do you love me?”

“Bunny, it’s super fucking complicated, babe. I can’t snap my fingers and be done with her.”

“Do you love me?”

Toji remains quiet. You peek through the peephole and see him leaning on your door.

“I do love you.” He replies. You step back, unlock your door, and open it. Toji steps forward and cups your face.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips. You nod your head, throwing your arms around him. Toji scoops you up and closes the door with his foot.

1 year later......

Toji rubs his eyes and yawns, contemplating whether he can end the meeting earlier or be stuck through another 45 minutes of nonsense. Shiu gives him a friendly elbow to wake him up. Toji straightens up and returns to the presentation. His eyes drift down to the wedding ring on his finger. He zones out and circles it around his finger. Toji’s phone rings, and he excuses himself. Shiu glances at Hiromi, but the other male shrugs and looks back at his phone. Toji returns and ends the meeting early. The room clears out, leaving Shiu and Hiromi.

“What’s been going on with you?” Shiu questions sitting at the table. Toji begins throwing things into his briefcase.

“Dark eye bags, zoning out during important meetings, getting to work late. You look like shit, and you’re not being a proper CEO. It looks back on the company, and it looks weak to your opponents.” Shiu states, shaking his head.

“I’m just going through a lot of shit right now. I need you to cover my meetings in the morning.”

“What? Listen, are you on drugs? Be honest?” Shiu asks, getting down from the table. Hiromi raises his hands.

“Let me step out of the room before you answer.” He jokes. Toji shakes his head.

“No I’m not. Cover it. Thanks.” Toji grabs his case and walks out of the conference room.

“And you’re grumpy!” Shiu adds, turning to Hiromi. Toji rushes to his car and home. Unknowingly to him, Megumi has been following his father and waiting outside the apartment complex where he arrived. Toji punches in his door code and steps inside. He drops his case and rushes to the bedroom.

“Hana, I’m sorry a meeting ran-”

“It’s okay, Mr. Fushiguro. I understand you’re a busy man. I need to get home early today to help my grandma.” Hana smiles. Toji steps over to the crib.

“She wasn’t too fussy today, right?”

“No. She was an angel. Her 3-month check-up is at 7:30am. Feel free to schedule her next check-up anytime I’m available to take her.”

“Thank you, Hana. Get home safe.” Toji replies, scooping up the infant. Hana grabs her purse and walks out of the bedroom towards the front door. When she opens it, Megumi stands there. He glares at the teenager.

“Is this where my dad sneaks off to? To be with a high schooler?

“Ummm-”

“Megumi…what are you doing here?” Toji appears. Megumi steps inside and glares at his father. Hana excuses herself.

“I followed you because Anna said…you were cheating on her again.”

“No.”

“No! I just saw a girl-”

“Keep your voice down. Follow me.” Toji whispers. Megumi raises his eyebrow but follows his father into a bedroom. Toji nods down towards the crib. Megumi peeks inside. His head snaps to his father.

“This is your little sister, Love,” Toji whispers. Megumi stares at the infant. Love begins to stir awake, and Toji reaches down to scoop her up.

“That girl isn’t-”

“No. That’s not her mother.” Toji replies, rubbing his daughter's back, then walks out of the room towards the kitchen. Megumi follows him and sits down at the island while Toji prepares a bottle.

“Tsumiki’s tutor, right? Where is she?” Megumi asks. Toji nods.

“I don’t know. It’s probably better that way. Anna…..Anna can’t find out about Love. Do you understand Megumi?”

Megumi stares down at the counter. Toji hated to put his son in this situation. But he has done a good job of concealing his daughter from Anna and everyone else. He couldn't have Megumi ruin that and get Anna involved, who knows what she would try to do. Toji hands Love to Megumi. He takes the infant and stares into her green eyes.

“Love Fushiguro?” Megumi asks. Toji nods with a smile. Megumi mirrors the smile and pokes at her cheeks. Toji hands the bottle to Megumi. He watches the two interact. Two months ago, you left a newborn at the penthouse. A year ago, after Toji said he loved you, you completely disappeared. He was crushed, heartbroken even. He tried to find you, but it was as if you vanished into thin air. Your friends refused to tell him anything; even with all of his resources, it was always a dead end. He started to think Anna killed you off, but then….you left Love. That was the only way Toji knew you were alive and existed. If this was the only piece of you he was allowed to have, then he was going to cherish it.

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long but I had to finish up my last semester! I graduate and will now be able to write more! I have a few more chapters of this and I have a Viking Toji fic coming out soon too (special request) 😭💛

[bekazimi]

And of course I had to draw Zutara too

[demaparbat-hp]

Someone give that boy calming tea

[zuunary]

geto and zuko twin moment

[demaparbat-hp]

Katara has many regrets in life but giving her boy the Jinshi Haircut is not one of them.