baby punk, member of the lavender society, ‘95, indigenous Ndé and Diné, NoDAPL, MMIW, land back, acab, pro Black empowerment, free Palestine, acab | | anyone under 21 dni. Fuck off racists, terfs, transphobes, homophobes and conservatives. no one is entitled to my time.
i imagine the live camera feed goes off one night while youre lying in bed. new sheets still hugging you warm after the dryer. the boys are off doing their personal night routines, heavy guard dogs lay at your feet.
with the chime of your phone, a notification alerts you of outside movement. you consider it to be a waving branch or passing car, yet check it nonetheless. something about inner intuition.
youre glad you did.
watching silently as someones shadow skirts along the darker parts of around your house. passing the kitchen windows with a ducked head, then round the back.
"fuck," you bite your lip. sighing quietly as you toss your phone. "johnathan!" four heads from the bathroom peek around the doorframe slow, eyes open with the use of a full name. johnny fights a grin, ready to watch his captain get chewed out by their lady.
"..ye' love?"
"theres some weird guy wandering 'round the house outside," you inform dryly. plucking your phone back up and leaving it there. you reach for your wine glass on the bedside table, sipping as their hearts fall to their ass.
sure, anxiety stirs low in your gut. nipping at your reason and concious. but youre also keen of what your boys have lived through, the dirtest negotiations and most horrific actions.
alway do they come back home into your arms.
you could blame it on pure lack of sleep, but its nicer to pin it on the assumption youre probably the safest person in town. you were even willing to bet in the city.
so you continue with scrolling through ao3.
paying a half mind as military tense rounds over their bodies. simon whistles for the dogs and grabs his pistol. grunting and rolling his bare shoulders in atonished anger at somones sheer audacity. i mean for fuck sakes the mans tired. 
johnnys sneaking grin falls, replaced by a flat face as hes quick to grab a flashlight and gun. moving out the door on simons heels. big dogs herding around them.
"stay 'ere yeah love? dont open the fuckin' door," johns voice is a low growl. grabbing a hunters knife ( anniversary gift from you, his names carved in the wood ) and moving to the window. room lights flipped off when johnny left. scanning the open grass with an annoyed brow twitch. "kyle, wi' me."
kyle nods, glancing back three times to make sure youre content. careful to lock the bedroom door and leave a weapon with you, which he drills in not to touch less you hear the burglar. with a final glance, hes gone with the rest of them.
your ears perk for movement outside. glass shatters and a door kicks open. youre pretty sure you hear the guy shriek — most definitely simons doing, weird fucker was waiting in the dark — a brisk struggle before the house falls silent, words they dont want you hearing are exchanged then hes thrown out onto the grass.
hes quick to jump up and scurry off, wet pants uncomfortable and now stinking.
you sigh with annoyance, replacing windows was the biggest bitch. but whatever, sukuna is realizing his love for Y/N.
yall r like “hmmmmm theres both sides to the story…! on one side, a woman who is always nice to everyone and has never done really anything mean to anybody and the other is a guy who goes on podcast to call women worthless bitches and fleshlights and has a track record of cheating….we just can’t tell whose actually telling the truth!…..its too hard to decide….”
You can’t even make fun of someone for dating people younger than them anymore without being accused of discoursing. What if I don’t think you’re a pedophile for dating a 24 year old but I do think you’re kind of a lame as hell manbaby who can’t handle mature baddies and it makes me chuckle pointing it out
you’re dense asf if you’re saying the Israeli government is the problem.
Israel as a WHOLE — the very EXISTENCE of it — is a fucking cancer, and that includes the SETTLERS that actively KILL and r@pe Palestinians with the backing of the STATE OF ISRAEL. And YES every single Israeli is a settler, because they choose to stay and live on stolen Palestinian land. And to those that say, what about the Israeli’s that don’t like their government and stand for a two state solution? you’re even dumber than I thought. If there was a two state solution then Israel would have to stop annexing the West Bank, and killing children, women, and men in Gaza, AND the West Bank, which they would never do because it’s a joy for them. but even if a 2 state solution is possible, what about my grandfathers home? my grandmothers home? the homes, villages, and land stolen in 1948 that Israelis live in now? yeah they never talk about that do they?
France occupied Algeria for 130 years, so Israel will fall and Palestine will be free in my life time!
so genuinely, from the very very bottom of my heart, I hope Israel and any person that calls themselves a “liberal Zionist” or a “liberal Israeli” burns in the PITS OF HELL🔻
I don’t understand how some of these fics have such little attention, all of these writers are soso talented!!
Morning With Fire Lord Zuko - @magikcheese3 = This fic is just so sweet that I can almost feel the warm vibes, it’s even comfortable to simply read :)
THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT - @illumoria = She’s such a talented writer, I adore the fluffiness of this fic, it’s soso cute
Zuko drabble - @singse = This is silly in the best way. I love how you can feel the familiarity between Zuko and the reader, it’s so fun
at the end of a long day - @getosurya = (It won’t let me tag :<) This fic is so fluffy and so sweet, I love how soft Zuko is in it, it’s exactly what the world needs
Forgotten Promises - @hon3y0logy = I am lowkey obsessed with their writing, they’re so talented and this is no exception
heat pads - @arfemiz = Give me 10 more of these (I’m kidding), this is so sweet!! I absolutely need this in real life
arranged marriage first kiss - @totallynotashieldagent = They have quite a few arranged marriage fics and I will eat every single one of them up, they’re so cute
tracing zuko’s scar - @strawberrychansora = This is so gentle but so sweetly written, it’s so cute! Zuko really deserves this treatment:>
baby, come back to me - @yn2ko = I was still thinking about this days after reading it, it’s so adorable
THIRD TIMES THE CHARM - @uhmnoidontthinkso = This does handle a heavy topic, but it’s written so carefully and so considerately in a way that’s really captivating
The Firelight Between Us - @dollfacearchives = This is so well written, especially the dialogue!! I adore how beautifully love is conveyed in this :)
biting cold - @like-a-pond = I really enjoy the mix of affection and tension in this fic, it’s such a sweet read!!
puppy eyed zuko - @kittentoki = This just has such a cute blend of angst and affection within it, even imagining this could make me melt
a lover who can’t sleep - @janluxe = This one is just so fluffy, the vibes in this are so relaxed and so loving, it’s so cute!!
synopsis . Hey baby won’t you open up? Let Toph split you open like a coconut? content . afab!reader, established relationship, blind jokes, fingering, dirty talk, pussy spanking, edging, slight overstim, grinding on her hand, cockiness, etc.
author’s note: close the door ‘n open up to meeee (this song has also been stuck in my head) this is just a lil smth smth, nothing crazy yet.
"Nervous?" Ah, you knew that tone dangerously well.
It’s the same tone she always throws your way when she wants to taunt you most, the same tone that has your legs sneakily trying to squeeze together in a poor attempt at soothing the ache in between them.
"W-What? No, of course not." You claim, despite feeling exactly that.
Toph’s lips quirk ever so slightly at the corners, "Thennnn, why're you shaking so much?"
Okay, sometimes you swear your allegedly blind girlfriend has the full ability to see you because how else would she catch the way your poor thighs are struggling to sprawl out a little wider for her?
She's not even touching you anymore!
“I’m not,” You insist.
A soft tut puffs just past her lips and you watch her lean a little closer, the heat from her body radiating near yours.
"Liar," She purrs, voice catching a hint of smugness you always knew it to.
You wanted to hate how wet she got you in times like this, but after being finger-fucked to oblivion just a few seconds ago—only to have her leave your weepy cunt empty just as you were about to cum—it’s a little difficult to hate anything she does to you. “…Just, keep going.” Your impatience was a little too evident in your tone with her.
So much so that it has Toph chuckling to herself. “So impatient. Are you mad because I didn’t let you cum?” She asks all softly as if she didn’t do that very thing four times in a row.
You roll your eyes and turn your head away from her, “No, I’m-,“ A hand grabs at your jaw all of a sudden, practically tugging the breath directly out of your lungs as you gasp.
Being this sensitive to her touch was really starting to make you feel kinda pathetic—albeit a natural reaction. “Look at me when you’re talking to me, yeah?” She orders, turning your head to face her… even though her eyes are most certainly fixated past you.
You pout, “It’s not like you can see whether or not I’m looking at you anyway…”
Flatly, “I can’t see your pussy either, and yet you’ve got half of the bed wet. Anything else you wanna point out, smartass?” Toph fires back at you, brows elevated slightly.
Your mouth flails open and closed for a couples seconds but no words exit you.
The only thing that happens is her body finally pressing towards your naked one again, sturdy hands finding your thighs again with ease as she pushes them apart impossibly wider. The nudging of her palms alone has your cunt gushing out an embarrassing slather of slick onto nothing. Fuck, every second without any part of her inside you was driving you insane.
Making up for the lack of your response, “Can’t see the faces you make when you cum but I still manage to get you there no problem,” She continues, smiling to herself as if proud. “Shall I go on?”
You grumble something just under your breath—which she definitely hears, but decides to let slide for the time being—and then sigh, “Can you just put them back in?”
With them referring to those perfectly stern fingers of hers, Toph quickly moves a hand back in between your parted limbs to near the puffy folds of your pussy again. A grin paints across her plush lips, “Say please.”
You groan, “Please, Toph.”
“Hahhhh, no.” She mocks, moving to instead hold her hand out, “I don’t think you deserve it anymore. If you wanna feel something so badly then here, grind.”
Your lashes go fluttering as you look down in between your bodies. The gorgeous plane of her palm is angled ever so perfectly for you to plop your needy cunt onto. You always wonder how she manages to have her hands exactly where you need them despite not being able to see. “But, I wanted-“
“Less talking, more grinding,” Your girlfriend demands, dark brows twitching into an anxious furrow, “I wanna see how impatient you really are, c’mon.”
You wanted to make another blind joke, you really really did, but seeing as her hand suddenly comes smacking! up against your cunt, you’re a left all too distracted to do so. It’s as though her quick smack was meant to encourage you or something.
…And encourage you it did.
Because now—now you’re slowly easing yourself down into her hand and letting out a moan as he politely cups the entirety of your cunt. Something short of a purr simpers somewhere in her throat at the slobbering feel of you on her hand.
Toph swears you’re absurdly wet for a woman who’s not even a water bender—who are known to be particularly soaking when aroused.
“Nngh-,“ You let out softly, your face scrunching up at the feel of your sensitive clit getting brushed over by the softly rubbing motion of her palm.
You’re too distracted at the sight below to realize she’s leaning her face towards where she believes yours is until a pair of lips are greeting yours. You’ve no idea how she does it—it’s like the moment your pussy is a pliant puddle in her hands (literally), she can see all of you and more. Especially when you finally begin to rock your hips forward to draaaag your aching cunt across her palm.
Toph’s mouth only detaches from yours so she can whisper something warm against your lips, “Yeahh, just like that. You’re such a pretty mess in my hand, I love it.”
At that, she earns a jumpy throb from your swollen cunt—the sensation leaving her no choice but to gift you with a couple more loving smacks. Squelchy drips of your arousal fly from the motion and the wet slaps echo out around the room.
Then her hand begins to press forward with this sudden pressure applied to it and your breath hitches in your throat.
To which she smiles fully, “You like that?”
You’re nodding as if she can see you doing so, “U-Uhuhh..”
“Gonna cum from this?” She taunts.
“Yeah-, fuck.. Toph!”
“Hm, that’s funny…” Her hand begins to rub and smudge up ‘n down all sloppily against your clit, leaving your jaw to fall slack from the stimulation. “I don’t recall givin’ you permission to do that.”
“Please,” You whine.
“Hm?” She pretends not to hear you, even though you know she could hear even the very rapid beating of your heart.
“Pleasepleaseplease-,” Now you were whimpering and her hand was shifting, palm detaching with messy slops of slick stringing in between her skin and yours before two firm fingers slip right into you.
Then she’s fucking her digits in rudely—prodding against the depths of your cunt and treating each clench like a guide as to where exactly she should poke her fingertips at next.
Toph’s fingers curl suddenly and your start to grab at her bulky arms, your nails scraping at her skin harshly enough to make her hitch.
You’re whispering something about wanting to cum and although she defiantly hears you, she merely smiles wickedly. “Darn, if only I could see you right now.” Then she leans to (where she hopes) your ear, “Bet you’re falling apart, huh? Probably making the prettiest face right now.”
“M-Mhmm,” You babble.
Toph’s fingers begin to spread out against your walls in delectable scissoring motions, “Alright, you’re trembling now so I guess I’ll let you cum. But, you’ve gotta promise me something first.”
You gasp, “Anything. Please just—“
“We have Sokka here next time so he can describe the faces you’re making to me. Sound good?”
5. It’s hard to be offended when white people jokes involve bland food/tourist dads in socks and sandals/white girls in yoga pants obsessed with pumpkin spice/suburban PTA moms and other harmless and mostly true stereotypes while jokes about POC involve them being called thugs/criminals/slurs/uneducated/illegal immigrants.
6. They’re usually really fucking funny and don’t perpetuate stereotypes that will ever affect me economically, politically, or cause me any true harm, let alone create risks that “justify” my murder and/or death
ꮼ DO YOU LIKE THIS POSITION, DO YOU LIKE THIS POSITION !
cw: penetrative sex, detailed sexual positions, orgasms mentioned, fingering + eating combo, cunnilingus, strap-on use, freaked-out Sokka, men who yearn, not proofread.
ⓘ Featuring Aang, Zuko, Sokka, Toph, and Katara having very special, very favorite positions.
ⓘ AANG !
He got you in missionary once & has been addicted ever since.
He'll always be down for anything you ask for—but missionary is his go-to. From how easy it is to whisper in your ear, kiss your face, or massage your breast, he loooves it so much.
His favorite thing about missionary, though, is that whenever his thrusts hit just right, your nails will start digging in his back & leave red streaks as little secret reminders.
ⓘ ZUKO !
Zuko is easy to please; he likes every position you throw at him, but by far, spooning is his favorite.
One of the biggest reasons he likes spooning so much is the limited time before duty, or before resting, that you actually have to be intimate—he likes how sex never feels like a quickie even when that's mostly what you have time for.
Early in the morning? He can kiss your shoulder and whisper how pretty you look, taking all of him, and make sure you get breakfast in bed before going to work.
Late at night? He can feel you arch against him as you tell him how your day went—it doesn't matter what you're doing; if you're pressed up against him, thigh hiked over his hip, he's in heaven.
ⓘ SOKKA !
He cannot pick a favorite position for the life of him, so he likes to fuck in lotus & face off interchangeably.
They can be very similar depending on his mood & typically end with you moaning in each other's ears or making out, trying to drown out each other's noises.
If he wants to have something more intimate, he'll guide your legs to hook around his waist & try to kiss all over your skin between whimpers in lotus—or in face-off, he'll get a little less thoughtful with his thrusts & end up rougher than usual.
It depends on your moods, if you've been teasing each other, or if you just ask him to be rougher, but he likes both of those equally.
ⓘ TOPH !
Toph pulls the fingering & eating combo—that way, she can pull back to tease you and still be giving you stimulation.
She'll stop sucking or licking at your clit whenever she feels you tensing to tease you for finishing so quickly, as if she weren't putting her all into making you feel good.
Her favorite part is that she can pull off & talk you through it, though. Driving you crazy with just a little bit of dirty talk, it makes you both feel comfortable to giggle & deepen your connection.
She'll use her free hand to intertwine with yours & squeeze whenever she's really in the zone of munching—she's an expert with her fingers, taking great pleasure in the whines you make when she curls them just right.
ⓘ TOPH & HER STRAP !
Toph tries to be open to whatever you suggest but was very skeptical when you brought up buying a strap-on for the bedroom until you helped her put it on one night & rode her till your legs gave out.
The girl loves cowgirls, how your hands tremble holding yourself up, the whines of her name, and how you'll collapse into her chest whenever you're close, moaning against her neck & she can thrust her hips into yours to coax out louder noises.
She'll always stroke your back after you finish & is deeply grateful she agreed to buy the strap-on with you.
ⓘ KATARA !
She loves it whenever you sit on her face.
Her hands curl around your thighs, helping you roll your hips into a slow grind while her tongue explores your body—it's always so hot to know she's the reason your thighs are shaking.
Sometimes she'll trail a hand up to knead one of your breasts, eating harder whenever little gasps start to escape your lips for her.
Her favorite part of it is whenever you're getting close and start pulling at her hair & show her how much you need her.
ⓘ KATARA & HER STRAP !
She wanted to add some heat to the bedroom and picked out the prettiest sky blue strap to use on you—in every damn position she could think of. The position she'd had the best luck in was doggy style.
It's comfortable; she can rub your back, let you rock your hips back against her while adjusting & muffle yourself into your pillows.
She'll kiss your back when you're getting close & coo that you should let go for her and get so ecstatic whenever you finish.
─ summary: You have been happily married to Zuko for a while, yet all anyone can talk about is the fact that you don't have children. You decide to do something about it.
─ pairing: Fire Lord Zuko x wife!reader
─ content: no spoilers| 18+ MDNI | insecurity | mean girls | smut | filthy smut | oral female receiving | p in v | breeding kink | overstimulation | angst | fluff
─ Word Count: 3k
─ a/n: I have had a crush on Zuko (and his dad) for so so long. These TikTok edits have validated everything for me. Thank you as always for likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. 🖤
The corridors of Caldera Palace stretched out before you, a labyrinth of polished obsidian and crimson velvet that seemed designed specifically to make you late. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs, the sound echoing in your own ears as you hurried past the towering, gilded pillars. You were supposed to be in the tea room twenty minutes ago. The other ladies would be waiting, their delicate porcelain cups steaming, their eyes sharp and expectant.
You smoothed the front of your silk robes, your fingers trembling slightly against the expensive fabric. Being the Fire Lady was a role you were still growing accustomed to, a second skin that hadn't quite fit perfectly yet. There were protocols, expectations, and a relentless, suffocating scrutiny that came with being married to Zuko. You loved him with a fierceness that sometimes scared you, but the court was a different beast, a creature of whispers and poisoned smiles.
As you approached the carved double doors of the tea room, you slowed your pace, intent on composing your face into a mask of serene apology. You reached for the latch, but the sound of voices from within stopped your hand cold. The heavy wood doors were slightly ajar, leaving a sliver of space just wide enough to hear the low, murmuring cadence of conversation.
You knew you should announce your presence, knock, and sweep in with your head held high, but the specific cadence of your name spoken in that tone, a mixture of pity and malice, rooted your feet to the stone floor.
"It's been over a year," a voice whispered. "And not a whisper of a child. The palace is silent."
"Perhaps the Fire Lord is simply… busy," another voice replied, the tone dripping with insinuation.
"Or perhaps he simply doesn't care to. Have you seen them together? He is polite, certainly. But affectionate? Passionate?"
A third woman laughed softly, a cruel, tinkling sound. "Maybe it is her. Perhaps she is barren."
The blood drained from your face so fast it left you feeling lightheaded. Your grip on the doorframe tightened until your knuckles turned white. You wanted to burst in, to scream at them, to set the tapestries ablaze, but the crushing weight of their words settled on your chest like a physical blow.
Barren. Undesirable.
You knew Zuko. You knew his gentle heart, his patience, but in the dark, quiet moments of the night, when you lay curled against his chest, a tiny, insidious voice had whispered the same fears. He had never pressured you. He was content, he said, to just be with you. You had interpreted that patience as love, but now, through the filter of their cruelty, it felt like indifference. Maybe he was waiting for you to fail. Maybe he was staying with you out of obligation until he could find a way to quietly set you aside for someone who could give him what he needed.
Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and humiliating. You couldn't go in there. You couldn't sit across from them, sipping jasmine tea while they looked at you with those pitying, judgmental eyes, knowing what they thought of you.
You turned on your heel, your silk skirts whispering frantically against the stone as you fled to your chambers. You didn't care if you were seen running, you just needed to escape.
Hours bled into one another. The sun dipped below the caldera rim, casting long, bloody shadows across the room, and still you did not move. A maid knocked tentatively at one point, inquiring about dinner, but you had shouted through the door that you were not to be disturbed, your voice cracking and raw. You sent a message to Zuko's aide, not to Zuko himself, you couldn't bear to hear his voice just yet, stating that you had a headache and would not be joining him for supper.
You lay curled on the chaise longue near the window, staring out at the darkening volcano, your eyes swollen and your heart a heavy stone in your chest. It was fully night when the doors opened. You didn't look up; you knew the rhythm of his footsteps. You heard the soft click of the doors locking again, and then the rustle of fabric as he shed his heavy outer armour. He moved quietly, reverently, as if approaching a wounded animal.
"Hey," he said softly. The sound of his voice, low and rough with concern, nearly shattered you all over again. "You missed dinner."
You burrowed deeper into the cushions, turning your face away from him. "I wasn't hungry."
Zuko walked around the chaise, crouching down so he was in your line of vision. The golden light from the hearth illuminated the sharp planes of his face and the molten gold of his eyes. Those eyes were searching yours now, filled with a worry that made your stomach twist.
"Your aide said you were upset," he said, reaching out to brush a lock of hair away from your damp cheek. "He said you've been in here all day. Talk to me. Please."
You squeezed your eyes shut, fresh tears leaking out to track through the dried salt on your skin. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to scream at him. The words were stuck in your throat, jagged shards of glass.
"Zuko... do you not want to have a baby with me?"
He froze, the hand stroking your hair stopped mid-motion. "What?" he breathed, the word laced with genuine bafflement.
You opened your eyes, forcing yourself to look at him, to let him see the mess you had become. "We've been married for over a year. Everyone else... everyone is pregnant or holding their children. And we have nothing. You've never... you've never pushed for it. You've never even mentioned it." You took a shuddering breath. "I heard them today. The ladies, they say you don't want me. They say I'm barren, and I realized... maybe they're right. Maybe you don't think I'll be a good mother. Maybe you don't love me enough to—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Zuko interrupted, his voice rising in pitch. He reached for your hands, clasping them tightly between his own. "Stop. Just stop for a second. Is that really what you think? That I don't want children with you because I don't love you?"
"Why else haven't we tried?" you cried, the dam finally breaking. "You're the Fire Lord! The line is everything! And you just... you're so calm about it. It feels like you're waiting for something better."
Zuko's expression shifted from confusion to a pained sort of horror. He sat down on the edge of the chaise, pulling you upright so you were pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your hair, and held you so tightly you could barely breathe.
"I love you more than anything in this world. I haven't pushed because I didn't think you were ready."
You pulled back slightly, staring at him. "What?"
"I didn't want to drag you into motherhood before we had even figured out how to be us. I wanted it to be something we chose together, when the world wasn't falling apart around us." He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears. "I would wait ten years for you. I would wait forever. But if you think for one second that I don't want to have children with you, you're crazy."
You searched his gaze, looking for any trace of a lie, and found none. There was only heat, and adoration, and a simmering hunger that made your pulse quicken. The crushing weight in your chest began to lift, replaced by a sudden, desperate need.
"I want this," you whispered, your voice gaining strength. "I want a baby. I want your baby."
A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of possessive pride. "Then we will," he promised, his voice dropping an octave. "We'll have a family. I'll give you whatever you want."
"Starting tonight."
Zuko blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in your demeanour, but a slow, crooked smile spread across his lips. "Starting tonight," he agreed, leaning in to kiss you.
What he didn't fully realise was how seriously you meant it. You needed him now. You climbed into his lap more fully, straddling his thighs on the lounge chair, your knees digging into the velvet cushion.
He didn't stop you. His hands moved to your waist, gripping the curve of your hips, pulling you harder against him. You could feel him already, hard and thick beneath the fabric of his trousers, a testament to his own hunger.
"Are you sure?" he breathed against your lips, even as his own hands were busy pulling the pins from your hair, letting it spill down around your shoulders.
"I've never been more sure of anything," you whispered back, and then you were kissing him.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a clash of teeth and tongues, a desperate, messy tangle of need. You tasted the tea he had been drinking earlier and the distinct, sharp taste of him. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pulling the layers of your robes aside until his skin was against yours.
You ran your hands over him, tracing the ridges of muscle, feeling the way his breath hitched under your touch. You needed to feel all of him. You stood up just long enough to let your robes fall to the floor, kicking them away, before climbing back onto him, clad only in your thin under-wrap.
Zuko watched you, his golden eyes burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. He reached up, his fingers hooking into the strap of your wrap and tugging it down, baring your breasts to the cool air and his heated gaze. He didn't touch them immediately; he just looked, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you.
"You are so beautiful," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "And you're mine."
"Yours," you agreed, leaning down to capture his mouth again.
He stood up then, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, as he carried you the short distance to the bed. He laid you down against the sheets, the movement gentle despite the desperation thrumming between you. But the moment your back hit the mattress, the dynamic shifted.
You weren't going to let him be gentle. You needed to take control, if only for a moment, to prove to yourself that you could have this, that you could demand this. You rolled, using the momentum of his descent to flip him onto his back. You straddled his waist, your hands pressing flat against his chest to hold him down.
Zuko let out a low chuckle, a sound that vibrated through your palms. He looked up at you, his hair fanned out against the pillow, a smirk playing on his lips. He liked this. He liked the certainty in you, the fire. His hands came to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you down harder against his erection.
"Is this what you want?" he teased, his thumbs stroking the skin just above your hipbone. "To ride me?"
"Yes," you breathed, grinding your hips down against him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. "But not yet."
You shifted up his body, moving until your knees were on either side of his head. You looked down at him, seeing the raw hunger in his eyes as he looked up at you, his hands coming up to grip your thighs.
"I want to taste you."
You lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his hot breath against your wet folds making you gasp. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open, and then his mouth was on you.
He licked a broad, flat stripe up your slit, from your entrance to your clit, and you cried out, your head falling back. He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your entire pelvis, and then he dove in.
Zuko knew exactly how to touch you, exactly how to make you fall apart. He alternated between sucking hard on the sensitive bundle of nerves and lapping at it with quick, flicking movements, all while his nose pressed against you, grounding you.
You grabbed onto the headboard for support, your knuckles white, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The pleasure was building fast, a tight coil in your low belly threatening to snap. You looked down, seeing only his eyes visible between your thighs, burning with gold, fixed entirely on your face. He was entirely absorbed in your pleasure, focused solely on making you feel good.
"Zuko," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. "Please… don't stop."
He didn't, doubling his efforts, adding a finger, then two, pumping them inside you in time with the thrusts of his tongue. The stretch was perfect, the curve of his fingers finding that spot inside you that made you see stars. Your thighs began to tremble as the orgasm crashed over you.
You came with a cry, your back arching, your hips grinding down against his face as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. He didn't let up, drawing it out until you were whimpering, oversensitive and trembling, pushing weakly at his head to get him to stop.
He relented, pressing one last, gentle kiss to your clit before helping you slide down his body.
But you weren't done. The orgasm had taken the edge off, but it hadn't quenched the thirst. You needed him inside you.
You felt his cock, hard and heavy against your stomach, leaking pre-cum onto your skin. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his thick length. He hissed, his hips bucking up into your touch.
"Please, Zuko."
He looked at you, his eyes dark, his jaw set with a sudden, intense resolve as he flipped the two of you over.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he said, his voice low and rough. "And I'm not going to stop until I've filled you up. Until I'm sure I've put a baby in you."
The words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and a deep satisfaction. This was what you needed.
He reached down, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing forward as the thick head of his cock stretched you open. You gasped at the burn, the sheer size of him always a shock, no matter how many times you did this. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside you.
You felt so full. Stretched. Possessed. He held himself still for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling, his forehead resting against yours. Then he started to move.
He pulled out almost all the way, leaving just the tip inside, before slamming back in. The force of it knocked the breath out of you. He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours. He wasn't holding back anymore. He was fucking you with a single-minded intensity, driven by the same desperate need that was fuelling you.
"Is this what you needed?" he gritted out, his hand sliding down your body to grip your thigh, pulling your leg higher to change the angle. "Do you feel how much I want you?"
"Yes," you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Zuko, yes!"
"You're going to look so beautiful round with my child," he growled, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. "Everyone will know. They'll know exactly who you belong to."
His words were filthy, devastatingly so, and they made you wetter, made your inner muscles clench around him. He groaned at the sensation, his rhythm faltering slightly.
"Fuck," he hissed. "You like that? You like the thought of being full of me?"
"I love it," you moaned. "I want it! I want everything."
He shifted his weight, bringing one hand between your bodies to press flat against your lower stomach, right where your womb lay. The pressure was intense, adding a new layer of sensation to the already overwhelming pleasure.
"I'm going to cum right here," he said, his fingers pressing down hard. "Over and over again."
The image he painted was so vivid, so erotic, that you felt your orgasm building again, stronger than before. The coil tightened, your muscles tensing, your breath hitching in your throat.
"Don't stop," you begged. "Please, don't stop! I'm close!"
"Let me feel you."
He thrust into you harder, deeper, hitting that spot inside you with every stroke. The pressure on your stomach, the friction against your clit, the sheer size of him, it was too much. It was perfect.
With a cry that was half-sob, half-scream, you came. Your pussy clamped down around him, rippling and spasming, your whole body shaking with the force of it. Zuko groaned, long and low, and thrust into you one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go.
You felt him pulse inside you, the hot rush of his cum filling you up, spurt after spurt. He kept thrusting, shallow, jerky movements, prolonging both your pleasure and his own, marking you from the inside out. He collapsed against you, his breathing ragged and heavy.
You felt boneless, spent, but the ache inside you was gone, replaced by a warm, glowing satisfaction.
But Zuko didn't pull out.
He stayed inside you, softening slightly but still substantial. He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
"I love you," he whispered, brushing a stray hair away from your face.
"I love you too," you replied softly.
He shifted his hips slightly, the movement sending a jolt of overstimulated pleasure through you.
"Sorry," he murmured, but he didn't move away. Instead, a wicked glint entered his eyes. "I told you… you're in for a very long night."
He began to move again, slowly, gently, rocking into you. You could feel his cum inside you, wet and hot, shifting with every movement. It was filthy, and it was perfect.
You didn't sleep that night. You explored every inch of each other, the desperation fading into a deep, thorough exploration of pleasure. He took you from behind, your face pressed into the pillows, his hands gripping your hips as he drove into you. You rode him again, slow this time, watching his face as he fell apart beneath you. He whispered filth in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how much he couldn't wait to see you swell with his child.
By the time the sun began to peek through the heavy curtains, painting the room in shades of grey and gold, you were exhausted, your body aching in the most delicious way. You lay tangled in the sheets, your head resting on Zuko's chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Less than a year later, the Caldera Palace was not silent. It was filled with the cries of a newborn, loud and healthy and demanding. You lay in the bed, cradling your son against your chest, watching as Zuko walked over to you. He looked tired, his hair loose and messy, but his eyes were shining with a pride so bright it almost hurt to look at.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then to the soft fuzz of the baby's head.
"He's perfect," Zuko whispered. "Just like his mother."
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