Snowy

Phainaxa syndrome. I write randomly and RARELY. Mostly Phainon (❁´▽`❁)

[sundered-star]

Is it just me or Phainon's into mirror s*x?

Just imagine doing it with him while he praises you for taking it like a good girl/boy 😫 and compliments you?! 😳

If you think he only acts like an innocent samoyed puppy.. WAIT, til' he gets on that freaky side of him. He's that bold type of flirty guy to turn you on than any vibrator could ever do.

...NEED A FANFIC FOR THIS!!!

Correct me if I'm wrong (I can never be wrong for this one👺)

[thisiscareless]

and if i get burned, at least we were electrified.

(‘only bought this dress so you could take it off’ — part three. Part one here. Part two here.)

adult zuko x reader | contains smut | minors dni.

summary: in which the fire nation waits for its future fire lady, your name is nowhere in the conversation, and zuko’s silence says all you need to know until you’re proven very wrong.

content: adult!zuko x reader, angst with a happy ending, explicit sexual content (the most explicit I’ve written ngl), friends to lovers, the gaang participating and teasing, action, humor, fluff, tooth-rotting love declarations.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The street curved gently along the inner ring of the city, where the noise of the harbor faded into half-open shops, low-burning incense, and voices blending into a steady hum.

You preferred this part of the Fire Nation. It was always easier to disappear in it.

“… I’m just saying,” Toph said, catching your arm as she walked beside you, “if he had something to say, he would’ve said it by now.”

“That’s not how things work here,” Katara replied, patient but firm. “There are protocols, expectations… not even he can just ignore the council.”

Toph scoffed. “He ignores them all the time.”

“Not about this. He doesn’t have a choice.”

“Well, that doesn’t make it right that he escorted her out of the palace and hasn’t said anything since.”

“Toph!” Katara scolded.

“It’s fine, Katara,” you said, placing your hand over Toph’s where it rested on your arm. “As much as I hate to admit it… she’s right.”

It had been days. Long enough for the palace to feel distant again, like something imagined rather than lived, somewhere you had stood, somewhere you had—

You stopped that thought before it could even dare to take shape.

“It is out of character for Zuko to cut off communication,” Katara insisted. “He must have a reason.”

“He better,” Toph muttered. “Otherwise he’s getting his ass kicked the next time I feel him take a step near me.”

That almost made you smile.

“If he ever does,” you said quietly.

Toph tilted her head.

“You’ve been avoiding the palace,” she said. “You could’ve gone back. You could’ve seen him already.”

“That’s not true. I’m not avoiding anything.”

“You haven’t gone back.”

You exhaled, soft and brief. “I didn’t think I needed to. And I still don’t…”

A group passed just ahead of you, their voices carrying in that effortless way through the crowded street.

“…it’s already decided, from what I heard.”

“Of course it is. They wouldn’t drag it out.”

“She must be someone important.”

“She has to be. The Fire Nation wouldn’t settle for less.”

Your steps slowed.

“I heard she’s from the Earth Kingdom.”

“They say she’s beautiful… from a noble line—”

You stopped, Toph stopped with you.

Katara turned, already watching you, then glanced back at the voices before returning her attention to your face. “You know they don’t actually know anything,” she said gently.

“They seem to know enough,” you replied.

Toph let out a quiet huff. “No, they don’t. They’re just filling in the blanks with whatever sounds right to them.”

“It makes sense,” you said again, your tone calm, perhaps too much. “He needs someone who benefits the nation. That’s the entire point.”

“And you don’t?” Katara asked.

You didn’t answer.

Because the answer wasn’t something you wanted to examine, at least not here, not now, not with strangers speaking as if your life were something distant and theoretical.

You straightened your posture.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said at last. “Whatever he decides, it’ll be the right choice for the Fire Nation.”

Toph snorted.

“Keep telling yourself that, pebbles.”

Toph’s nickname still lingered in the air when the wind shifted above you.

A broad and familiar shadow crossed the street, and a second later Aang landed swiftly between you and the others, his eyes moving quickly from face to face as if counting, making sure no one was missing.

“Good, you’re close,” he said, a little out of breath. “There’s been a break along the ridge road, just past the outer fields, the one that runs above the old quarry.”

You stilled.

“If it’s along the quarry edge, the base won’t hold for long,” you said, already turning toward the eastern slope without thinking.

Toph tilted her chin up slightly, listening through the soles of her feet.

“It’s shifting,” she confirmed. “Not fast, but it’s definitely not stable.”

Katara’s hand found your arm briefly.

“How bad?”

“Bad enough that if someone panics and tries to cross, the whole thing will give in,” you replied, already moving with Katara and Toph as Aang followed. “Worse if they try to force carts over it.”

“Sokka’s there,” Aang added quickly. “He went ahead when the reports came in.”

“At least he’s there,” you said. “We need to hurry.”

Without letting go of either Toph or Katara, you gathered the fabric of your skirt slightly as the stone road gave way to packed earth, the city thinning into low houses and wind-bent trees, the air turning drier, sharper.

“And…” Aang hesitated,“…Zuko’s on his way.”

Toph scoffed.

“Perfect.”

Perfect, indeed.

♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The ridge revealed itself like a wound carved into the road.

The path curved along the quarry’s edge, and where it should have held firm, there was a jagged and uneven split, the outer half sagging just enough to tilt a loaded cart toward the drop below. The ground hadn’t broken cleanly; it had given in layers, ash and stone shifting against each other debating between holding or collapsing.

Dust hung low in the air, fine and persistent, clinging to skin, settling into fabric. A group of villagers hovered nearby, caught between urgency and fear, their voices overlapping in restless waves.

Sokka’s voice cut through it all.

“No one crosses until we figure this out! I don’t care if your cabbages are going bad, you’re not dying for them!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!” someone shouted.

“And it’s still true!”

He turned as you approached, relief flashing across his face.

“There you are! Quick summary," Sokka said, gesturing sharply with the hand that held a rope, "the road’s trying to fall into the quarry, the cart’s trying to follow it, and everyone’s trying to help, which is, shockingly, not helping.”

You followed the direction of his gesture.

The cart sat at the very edge of the fracture, its rear wheels still on relatively stable ground while the front had dipped into the uneven split, one side lower than the other. The weight of it dragged forward at a slow, dangerous angle, sacks and crates stacked high enough to shift if given the slightest encouragement. Every small movement such as someone stepping too close or even a stone giving way, made it creak.

Toph and you stepped beside him, your attention already moving across the fracture along with the angle, the depth, the way the earth had split along a weak seam rather than broken outright.

“If anyone pushes that cart like this,” you said, your voice grounded enough to cut through the noise around you, “it won’t just fall.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Sokka muttered. “And someone still suggested we just… pull harder.”

Toph unwrapped her arm from yours and crouched near the split, pressing her fingers into the dirt, her brows knitting as she read the ground.

“It’s hollow underneath,” she said. “If I push from below, it collapses.”

“Maybe don’t push,” you said, lowering beside her. “Pack it."

Toph nodded once, already adjusting her stance. "I could compress the ash instead of forcing it upward", she said, a hand on her chin. "And let it settle into itself.”

Katara stepped closer to the fracture, crouching opposite Toph. She drew a thin stream of water from her waterskin, letting it spill over the loose surface where ash and dust threatened to slide.

“I can bind the top layer,” she said, her voice focused now. “Just enough to keep it from shifting while she compacts it.”

“Not too much,” you added quickly. “If it gets too wet, it’ll slip.”

Katara nodded, adjusting the flow immediately, spreading the water in a thin, controlled layer that darkened the ash without saturating it.

Above them, Aang hovered lower now, guiding steady currents of air to lift the dust away from the fracture, clearing visibility and easing the pressure of falling debris.

“I’ll keep the edge clear,” he said. “Nothing’s coming down on you.”

“Good,” Toph replied, already working.

Sokka nudged your shoulder.

“So, our part?”

You looked at the cart again as it tilted due to uneven weight, the strain pulling one wheel deeper into the soft ground.

“We lighten it,” you said. “Half the load off. Then we can reinforce the edge and guide it across.”

“Guide it,” Sokka repeated. “I like that. Sounds like we survive.”

A faint smile pulled at your lips.

“Secure the axle,” you added. “We guide it from both sides so it doesn’t tip.”

“On it.”

You turned to a villager you recognized, your tone steady enough to anchor the rest.

“We’re moving the supplies first,” you said. “No one crosses until we say so. It will hold, we just need a moment.”

They nodded, and that certainty spread quickly, calming the edges of the crowd.

Soon, movement replaced hesitation. Crates were passed down, hands working in rhythm, weight shifting from cart to ground. Katara kept one eye on the villagers even as she worked with the earth, stepping in when someone got too close, her voice soft but firm, typical Katara.

“Just a little further back... yes, there. You’re safe.”

You were halfway through unloading when warmth brushed the back of your neck and boots struck the ground behind you.

You didn’t turn, not even by mistake.

“What’s the situation?” Zuko asked.

Sokka gestured loosely. “Road’s breaking, cart’s heavy, we’re amazing.”

“We’re stabilizing before moving anything,” you corrected.

“I can see that.”

You turned.

He looked as though he had stepped straight out of the palace into the dust. His formal attire remained intact, though softened at the edges by ash and wind, dark strands of hair slipping loose where they were meant to stay in place. The gold woven into his robes caught what little light broke through the haze, dimmed but unmistakable.

And suddenly, being angry at him felt like its own kind of punishment. Because it meant distance, one you, if you had a choice, didn't want to endure.

His gaze found you then, and held just a fraction longer than necessary.

“Then you’re up to speed, Fire Lord.”

A flicker crossed his eyes.

“Good to know I didn’t miss anything.”

Toph let out a short laugh.

“Oh, you definitely missed something.”

“Toph,” Katara warned, though she didn’t stop shaping the surface, water threading through her movements.

“What do you need?” Zuko asked, already stepping forward.

“Controlled heat along the fracture,” you said. “Low and steady. Seal it after Toph compacts.”

He nodded.

“At your call.”

Toph pressed deeper, the earth tightening under her control, ash compressing into something solid. Katara followed her rhythm, smoothing the surface with precise movements of water, binding the top layer just enough to hold.

“Now,” you said.

Zuko’s fire traced the fracture, sealing the line without breaking it, the heat drying and hardening what the others shaped. Aang adjusted the air again, lifting the last of the dust away.

You and Sokka moved back into position beside the cart.

“Go slow,” you murmured.

“I am going slow.”

“Slower.”

Zuko exhaled something close to a quiet laugh.

“It’s leaning left,” you said.

“Compensating,” Sokka replied.

The rope snapped tight in your hands, the weight shifting too quickly. Before you could adjust or protest, Zuko’s hand covered yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, close enough now that his voice dropped just for you. “Let it settle first.”

“I know. I don't need help," you said.

His thumb shifted slightly, correcting your grip. Your breath caught.

Behind you, Toph laughed outright.

“Do I get help too, or is this exclusive?” Sokka added.

“Focus,” you said, though your voice’s edge was not found.

Zuko’s hand remained over yours a moment longer, steadying the pull of the rope as the ground beneath the cart shifted again, settling. Under Toph’s control, the loose ash compacted inward, tightening around the hollow pockets below, while a thin layer of moisture from Katara bound the surface just enough to keep it from slipping apart. The fracture no longer yawned open; it held, uneven but reinforced, the weight redistributing instead of dragging forward.

Zuko withdrew his hand.

“Alright,” you said, adjusting your grip, grounding yourself again. “Now we move.”

You and Sokka guided the cart, adjusting with each inch, while Zuko steadied the front, his movements precise and responsive as ever.

“Easy,” you said.

The cart shifted again. The wheel dragged over the uneven seam, resisted, then yielded, inch by careful inch, until the weight finally rolled past the fracture and onto solid ground. Only then did the strain release, the cart settling fully, the danger passing not in a break but in surrender to stability.

Relief spread through the ridge in a single, shared exhale.

Voices rose in a different and lighter tone, gratitude threading through them as people stepped forward again, no longer afraid of the ground beneath them. The man who had spoken to you earlier approached first, dust still clinging to his sleeves, his hands rough from work and now empty of it.

“It was helpful you knew this place. You kept us from making it worse,” he said, glancing briefly toward the cart before returning his gaze to you. “We were ready to push it over ourselves.”

You shook your head gently. “You waited. That made the difference!”

He smiled faintly, then looked past you. “All of you did.”

Others followed, quieter but no less certain. A woman clasped Katara’s hands briefly, thanking her for keeping everyone steady when panic had started to spread. Someone else nodded toward Toph with a mix of awe and familiarity, clearly having felt the ground shift under her control. A young boy hovered near Aang before blurting out a rushed thank you, eyes wide at the way the dust had simply… stopped falling around him. Even Sokka received a few claps on the shoulder, one villager gesturing toward the now-stable cart.

“Good thinking with the rope,” they said.

Sokka straightened slightly. “I do bring strategy to the table.”

“You tied knots,” Toph muttered under her breath.

“Strategic knots.”

You let out a small breath of a laugh, the sound more subdued than the moment called for, but it slipped out anyway.

At the edge of the clearing, just beyond the villagers and the scattered crates from the cart, a pair of Fire Nation guards stood apart from the worksite, their posture composed, untouched by the dust and urgency that had taken over the ridge. They had arrived with him, they were palace detail, not local patrol, you noticed- and unlike the others, they hadn’t intervened.

One of them now held a lacquered box, smaller than the supply crates, its surface polished to a quiet sheen despite the haze around it. It didn’t belong to the cart. It had been carried here.

For a moment, the guard hesitated, glancing toward Zuko as if awaiting instruction now that the immediate crisis had passed.

Zuko noticed, and stepped away from the group, crossing the short distance with that same controlled steadiness he owned.

The guard straightened immediately, offering the box forward.

“My lord—”

Zuko took it before he could finish, his grip firm but unceremonious, as though the exchange required no announcement.

He didn’t look at you, but the path he chose to walk placed him close enough that the space between you narrowed again, the weight of the moment returning in subtler ways.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

“Alright,” Toph said, arms crossing as she angled her chin in your direction, “are we done fixing things, or do we need another disaster so you two can keep staring at each other?”

“I vote we’re done,” Sokka added immediately, lifting a hand like he was calling it in a council meeting. “Strong vote. Unanimous, actually.”

Toph tilted her head slightly, as if listening for something only she could catch, then smirked.

“Yeah,” she went on, louder now, “we’re definitely done here. Ground’s stable, cart’s safe, tension’s… not our problem.”

“Not even a little,” Sokka agreed. He clapped his hands once, dusting them off. “Which means we should probably go check… literally anywhere else.”

“Anywhere,” Toph echoed.

Katara let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “We’ll be just over there,” she added, gesturing vaguely in the opposite direction. Far enough to be out of earshot, but close enough to pretend they weren’t leaving on purpose.

Aang nodded quickly. “Yes. Monitoring. Very important.”

“Extremely!” Katara said, reaching for Aang's hand.

Toph had already started walking with Sokka.

“Try not to break anything else,” she threw over her shoulder, entirely too pleased with herself.

“And if you do,” Sokka added, backing away now, “we’re not fixing it.”

Katara gave you one last look in a gentler, but no less knowing way, before turning to follow them.

“So,” you said at last, turning to face Zuko, your tone steadier than you felt, “I think congratulations are in order, Fire Lord. I heard you made your choice.”

“You… did?” he asked, uncertainity slipping into his voice.

You nodded, though your gaze dropped almost immediately, your foot nudging at the edge of the grass where it met the packed earth like the ground required your full attention once again. Anything to avoid looking at him, anything to avoid the way your vision threatened to blur.

“She’s a noblewoman from the Earth Kingdom, right?” you continued. “Someone… appropriate. Someone the Fire Nation can benefit from.”

Silence answered you.

You looked up and he was staring at you, completely, utterly speechless. It made something in your chest twist.

“Of course,” you went on, the edge slipping into your voice now, “that’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

Your arms crossed before you could stop yourself, the motion sharper than you intended. Your fingers dug into your sleeves, knuckles tightening.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” you pressed. “Am I wrong?”

For a moment, it almost seemed like he might answer, finally say something that would settle the tight, aching uncertainty sitting in your heart. His mouth parted, then closed again, his jaw tightening.

Instead, he laughed.

You went still, your grip loosening just slightly before tightening again, breath catching halfway in your chest.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, the hurt breaking through now, unfiltered. “This is serious. If it’s not that, then what is it? Not like you can correct me, you’ve been avoiding me!”

The laughter disappeared as quickly as it had come when you turned away from him, the movement abrupt, but you didn’t make it far.

His hand found your arm without force, but pulling you just enough to face him again.

“I know,” he said. “And I—”

“And before an excuse leaves those—” you cut in, your voice sharper than you meant it to be, “—those exquisite lips of yours, maybe think about what you’re going to say first.”

“I am sorry,” he said.

You blinked. The words landed heavier than anything else he could have said.

“What…” The word barely formed. You swallowed, your gaze searching his face, tracing it like you might find the meaning there before you could trust your own ears. “What did you say?”

Despite everything, that familiar hint of amusement returned to his mouth.

“What did you say?” he countered. “Exquisite lips?”

You stared at him.

“Don’t,” you said quickly, heat rising to your face despite yourself. “That’s not— that doesn’t matter. Why are you sorry?” you pressed. “What do you mean?”

He held the box firmly for a moment longer, as though whatever it carried required more than just his hands to keep steady, then let it fall to his side with a quiet breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come,” he said, his voice lower now, stripped of anything that resembled formality. “And I understand why you didn’t return. The council has been occupying my time, as you know…”

“Did they cancel their command?” you asked, stepping closer before you could stop yourself, the distance between you suddenly unbearable. There was something fragile in the way the question left you that reached for hope despite everything. “You didn’t have to choose?”

He didn’t speak, nor he needed to. The answer settled in the quiet shift of his expression, in the way his gaze held yours without softening.

Your hand rose to your chest, pressing there, wishing you could steady the feeling before it broke entirely.

“So… then you chose someone.”

“I did,” he said.

There was no hesitation in it, no uncertainty, and that made it worse.

“But it’s not a matter of whether I chose,” he continued, something quieter threading through his speech. “It’s whether she chooses me too.”

You nodded slowly, though the movement felt distant, disconnected from the rest of you. Of course she would. Anyone would. He was the Fire Lord, so respected and powerful, and he was Zuko. Your Zuko.

You looked down at the grass beneath your feet, your thoughts tangling into something far less composed than you wanted them to be. Pride and longing pulled in opposite directions, each one demanding to be heard, to be chosen, to be acted upon before the moment slipped through your hands entirely.

You could say it.

You could end it there and put words to everything you had carried, everything you had refused to name, even if it meant losing him in the same breath.

Or you could stay silent. Walk away with dignity intact, even if it cost you more than you were willing to admit.

The decision hovered, ever so fragile, until something moved in your peripheral vision.

The box.

He lifted it between you, holding it out with a steadiness that contrasted the tension that had settled around you both.

You raised an eyebrow, more out of instinct than understanding, and took it from his hands, the weight of it grounding in a way nothing else had.

“What’s in there is yours,” he said, his gaze never leaving you. “Because you deserve it.”

A breath passed.

“And you can choose not to accept it.”

Curiosity moved through you before reason could stop it, your fingers lifting the lid of the box with a care that felt disproportionate to something so simple. The hinge gave without resistance, and what waited inside made your breath falter in a way you couldn’t quite control.

Your dress.

The one you had worn that night, the one that had carried you into that room, into him. The one you had left behind without a second thought, discarded against the stone floor of his bath in a moment that had felt too consuming to hold onto anything else.

Your fingertips brushed over the fabric, slow, almost reverent, the layered silk shifting beneath your touch like a quiet flame. The deep red caught the light even here, subdued by the dust of the ridge but no less alive, while the gold threading along the bodice traced familiar patterns beneath your fingers, subtle and precise, unmistakably Fire Nation in its design. It felt the same, but above all, it felt like that night.

“I should have returned it sooner,” Zuko said, his voice quieter now, closer than before, though you hadn’t noticed him step nearer. “But I didn’t know how to give it back without…” He exhaled softly. “Without it meaning more than it already does.”

You didn’t lift your gaze.

“I kept it,” he continued, and there was something unguarded in the admission that carried weight beyond the words themselves. “At first, because it was yours. And then… because it reminded me of everything I didn’t say when I had the chance.”

Your fingers stilled against the fabric.

“You’ve always been my friend,” he said, and the word landed gently, but it didn’t soften the impact. “My closest one. The person who stayed when I didn’t deserve it. The one who saw through every version of me I tried to hide behind.”

Something in your throat drew tight.

“I’ve made mistakes,” he went on, quieter now, his voice threading through the space between you. “More than I can count. And somehow, through all of them… you never stopped seeing me clearly. Even when I didn’t know how to see myself.”

Your grip on the edge of the box tightened.

“I thought that was enough,” he admitted. “That having you there, having you beside me in that way, was something I could hold onto without asking for more. But it isn’t. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

You lifted your gaze, your vision blurred at the edges, tears gathering in a way that felt unfamiliar and nothing like what you had braced yourself for.

He was closer than you expected.

Close enough that you could see a quiet undoing. The restraint he held so carefully began to fray at the edges, the steadiness of his mouth faltering, his breath unmeasured, his gaze no longer shielded. Whatever he had kept contained slipped free in the way his eyes lingered on yours without retreat, in the fragile openness that replaced his certainty, in the tenderness that seemed to rise despite him, bare and unprotected, with nowhere else left to go but toward you.

“I don’t want you like a best friend,” he said. “I never really did.”

He reached forward, setting the box between you on top of the grass before his hand moved to the fabric. He lifted the dress with care, the silk sliding through his fingers like it recognized the warmth of him, when a glint broke free from its folds.

It slipped loose with a hush, a soft, fleeting sound against the ground, so quiet it might have gone unnoticed, had it not caught the light.

Gold, warmed by the same tones that traced the dress. A ring with a stone set at its center that held its own quiet fire.

You drew your lower lip between your teeth without thinking, your eyes widening.

Zuko bent to retrieve it, and when he rose, he did not falter.

Not this time.

He stepped closer, the space between you giving way in slow, inevitable increments. The ring rested between his fingers, but it wasn’t what held your attention. It was the way his hand steadied when it neared you, how the slightest tremor gave way to resolve. The way his gaze didn’t leave yours, not even for a second, like looking away was no longer something he could bear.

He stopped only when there was nowhere left to step without touching you.

“I spoke to the council,” Zuko said. “I agreed to their terms: to choose among the guests in the gathering, to entertain their expectations, to follow through with what they believed was best for the Fire Nation.” His gaze softened, recalling it all now from a distance that no longer held the same weight. “I thought I could endure it. That if I listened long enough, if I gave them what they wanted to hear, I could still make the decision my own in the end.”

You let out a breath that trembled despite yourself, your fingers still resting against the silk in the box. “That doesn’t sound like something you would agree to,” you murmured.

“It isn’t,” he admitted. "And I didn’t. Not entirely.” His eyes flickered with something that resembled quiet amusement, though it never strayed far from you. “My uncle had… opinions.”

That drew something from you before you could stop it: a soft, disbelieving breath that almost became a laugh. “Of course he did.”

“He insisted,” Zuko continued, and now the warmth settled more openly into his tone, “that if I was going to be forced into choosing, then I should at least have every option available to me.” He paused just long enough for the meaning to settle. “Even the ones the council didn’t think to include.”

“So, when he made you invite me...,” you said, the realization unfolding in pieces.

"It was without their knowledge. Which meant that when I agreed to their conditions…," his gaze held yours. “I already knew how I intended to challenge them.”

A small, incredulous breath left you. “You planned it.”

“I hoped,” he corrected gently.

You shook your head faintly, though the motion carried no real disagreement, only the overwhelming weight of shock settling into place. “That sounds exactly like something he suggest you to do.”

“It does,” Zuko said, and this time the hint of a smile reached his lips fully. “He was very pleased with himself.”

“I’m sure he was,” you replied, unable to stop the faint curve of your own mouth.

“I used their rules,” he said, far more intentional, “to make a choice they couldn’t argue with. And when they did, even if they were already trapped, I gave them arguments they couldn’t refuse. About loyalty. About trust. About someone who understands the balance we’re trying to build better than any noble name ever could. About you," he continued, stepping just a fraction closer. "I told them that if they were asking me to choose a future for this nation, then they would have to accept that I already knew who belonged in it.”

The ring remained in his hand.

You hadn’t stopped looking at it, not really. Even when your eyes lifted to meet his again, even when his voice held you there, you stayed aware of it.

“I spent days trying to say it the right way,” Zuko continued, his voice stripped of everything except truth. “Trying to deal with the guilt that came from tying you to something you might not even want, but also coming to terms with what I’d done and, let you decide instead.”

His thumb shifted slightly against the band.

“You chose me,” you said softly, the words barely more than breath, as if saying them too loudly might undo them.

“I did,” Zuko answered, no doubt left for you to question. “And I would do it again.”

Your chest tightened, something fragile and overwhelming unfolding all at once, your fingers curling slightly against the fabric of the dress still resting in the box between you.

“But I meant it: I don’t want this to be something decided for you,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less firm. “Not by the council. Not by me. So... what do you think?"

For a moment, you didn’t answer.

Not because you didn’t know what to say, but because the answer had been there for longer than you had allowed yourself to admit, waiting beneath every glance, every almost, every moment you had forced yourself to step back instead of forward.

Your hands found his before you could overthink it, fingers wrapping around his, warm against your palms, making everything else fall away. You felt the slight tension in him ease at the contact.

“I think that…” you began, your eyes never leaving his, “I don’t want you like a best friend either.”

His hand rose to your jaw, fingers finding their place beneath your ear, along the line of your throat, settling there with a steadiness that made your pulse turn restless against his touch. His thumb brushed once, slow, like he needed to feel you there before allowing himself anything more.

And then he closed the distance. The kiss wasn’t rushed. It lingered the second it began, his mouth finding yours with a care that made something in your chest give way all at once. There was no edge to it, no restraint left to hold it back. Your fingers tightened against him before you realized it, curling into the fabric at his sleeve. The other hand found his shoulder as you leaned into him, closing what little space still remained.

He didn’t hesitate at the contact. His hand shifted like he needed to keep you there, like letting you go had stopped being an option the moment you hadn’t stepped back.

The wind moved somewhere beyond you. Voices carried faintly in the distance. The world continued, unchanged, untouched. But none of it reached you. Not when he held you close enough that you could feel the rhythm of him, steady against you. Not when the warmth of his touch felt so deeply familiar it settled into you without resistance, yet new enough that every second of it stayed sharp, impossible to ignore, something your body was still learning even as it recognized it completely.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against yours, his breath still uneven, though his hands remained steady where they held you.

You gave him your hand.

His fingers guided the ring into place, the gold catching the light as it settled where it belonged.

“Well, that took long enough.”

Toph’s voice carried across the ridge like she had been waiting for exactly this moment.

You both turned to find the rest of the group not nearly as far away as they had pretended to be, clustered together in a way that made it very clear they had seen everything.

“I told you,” Sokka said, already striding toward you with far too much enthusiasm, “we could’ve skipped the emotional crisis and gone straight to this…”

He stopped right in front of you and then immediately pulled you into a hug.

“Oh my—wait—no—” he froze mid-embrace, pulling back just enough to look at you with exaggerated horror. “Is this… is this allowed? Should I not be doing this? Is this, like, a royal offense now?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, the sound light and uncontrollable.

“I think you’re fine.”

“Are we sure?” he asked, lowering his voice like this was suddenly a very serious concern. “Because if I just violated some kind of royal boundary, I’d like to know now before guards appear out of nowhere.”

Aang stepped forward, grinning, entirely unbothered by any of it. “I’m still hugging her.”

And he did hug you, completely sincere.

Sokka pointed immediately. “See? Now if he gets arrested, I’m blaming Toph."

"What did I do?" she asked, hugging you after Aang.

"You didn't tell me not to hug her." he said, proceeding to pat Zuko's back in a congratulatory way. “Or to bow. Because I’m not bowing. I refuse. I draw the line at bowing.”

“You’ve never bowed in your life,” Katara said, stepping forward, though her smile softened the remark as she reached for your hands, squeezing them gently. Her gaze flickered to the ring, then back to your face. “I’m really happy for you,” she added. “For both of you.”

“I’m glad you all approve,” Zuko said, the faintest hint of humor threading through his voice as he glanced at them.

Toph huffed. “We don’t approve,” she said. “We tolerate. There’s a difference.”

“She means she’s happy,” Aang translated helpfully.

“I am not.”

“You sound happy,” Katara said.

“I sound correct.”

Sokka pointed between the two of you. “For the record, I’ve been emotionally invested in this for a long time, so I feel like I deserve partial credit.”

Zuko's thumbs brushed ightly against the fabric at your sides before he finally glanced up.

“At most,” he said, “you can take credit for… not making things worse.”

Toph snorted. “That’s generous.”

You laughed. “Very generous.”

Sokka looked between all of them, betrayed. “Wow. Okay. Noted. I’m surrounded by people who don’t appreciate emotional support. Alright,” Sokka said, clapping once, recovering his composure with visible effort. “So, celebration plan. I’m thinking food, obviously. Maybe something dramatic. Fireworks? Is that too on the nose?”

“It’s the Fire Nation,” Aang said. “It’s never too on the nose.”

“Perfect,” he nodded. “Then we’re doing it.”

Zuko exhaled softly beside you.

When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, not saying anything, and not really needing to.

For once, neither of you looked away.

♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the world, the council, your friends, and the endless weight of the Fire Nation. For a single, suspended moment, you and Zuko stood facing each other at the threshold of his chamber, the same room that now felt entirely different.

Candlelight flickered across the walls, gold dancing over silk and shadow, over the familiar space that had once held distance and now held none at all. The bed stood at the center untouched, but neither of you moved toward it yet.

Zuko’s hands found your waist, pulling you close. His fingers curled into the fabric of your robe, and he was smiling- not the tight, controlled smile he normally wore, but almost giddy. His eyes roamed your face like he was memorizing every detail.

“We’re alone,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “Finally.”

You didn’t answer with words. You rose on your toes and kissed him: deep, open-mouthed, hungry. He groaned into your mouth, his arms wrapping around you, crushing you against his chest. The kiss was messy, eager, all tongue and teeth and the shared taste of the celebratory tea you’d drunk earlier with his Uncle Iroh. His hands slid down your back, cupping your ass, squeezing as he pulled your hips flush against his.

You could feel him already hardening through the layers of silk. The evidence of his desire pressed against your belly, and you rocked into him deliberately, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.

“Patience,” he murmured, though his voice was strained.

“No,” you breathed, nipping at his lower lip. “You forget I’ve waited too long.”

Your fingers found the tie of his formal robe, tugging it loose. The heavy red fabric fell open, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, the lean muscle, the scattered scars. You pushed the robe off his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet. He stood before you, bare except for his loose trousers, the firelight painting his skin in amber and shadow.

You let your gaze travel down his body: the hard planes of his abdomen, the dark trail of hair disappearing below his waist, the prominent bulge straining against the silk of his trousers. Your mouth watered.

“Your turn,” he said, his fingers already working at the knot of your sash. He was less patient than he pretended; the fabric slid away quickly, and he pushed your robe aside, baring you to the warm air. His breath caught. “I’ve always known it, and I’ve seen you, but… spirits, you’re beautiful.”

His hands found your breasts, cupping them, thumbs brushing over your nipples. They stiffened under his touch, and you arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips. He leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, his tongue circling the sensitive peak. You gasped, your fingers threading into his hair, holding him there.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his free hand sliding down your stomach, between your legs. His fingers found you wet, slick, ready. He groaned against your skin.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. “Is that because we’re engaged, or because you’ve been thinking about this all day?”

“Both,” you admitted, your hips grinding against his hand. “I couldn’t stop imagining your mouth on me, like at breakfast, even when I was mad at you.”

He growled, low and possessive, and suddenly he was lifting you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, laying you down on the silk sheets, the cool fabric a shock against your heated skin. He stood over you, his eyes dark with desire, his cock straining against his trousers.

“I want to taste you,” he said, his voice rough.

“Actually, I have an engagement night request,” you said, stopping him. “I want to taste you, Zuko.”

His eyes shone. With no further discussion, He tugged at his trousers, pushing them down his hips. His cock sprang free- long, thick, flushed a deep red at the tip, already leaking a bead of pre-cum. You reached for him, wrapping your hand around his shaft, feeling the heat and the velvety softness of his skin stretched over the hardness beneath. You stroked him slowly, watching his eyes flutter shut, his breath hitch.

Then you leaned forward, taking the head into your mouth.

Zuko groaned, a deep, guttural sound that seemed to come from somewhere primal, something you’d never heard before. You swirled your tongue around the tip, tasting the salt of his arousal, then took him deeper, your lips sliding down his length. His hand found the back of your head without pushing, just resting there, his fingers trembling.

“That feels– yes,” he breathed. “just like that.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you pulled back, then plunged down again, establishing a rhythm. His taste was intoxicating, and the sounds he made- the broken moans, the whispered curses- only made you more eager. You took him as deep as you could, feeling him hit the back of your throat, your nose brushing against the coarse hair at his base.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his golden eyes fixed on you. “Taking me like that…”

You looked up at him, your lips stretched around his cock, and the sight of his face all flushed, eyes half-lidded, and lips parted in pleasure made you moan around him. The vibration sent a shudder through his body. His hips bucked involuntarily, driving him deeper.

He pulled back before he came, his chest heaving. “Not yet,” he panted.

He guided you back onto the bed, your head sinking into a pillow. He rose over you, his cock nudging at your entrance. He paused, hovering, his eyes meeting yours. “I couldn’t get tired of this view…”

“Me neither.”

He pushed in. The stretch was exquisite, a slow, burning fullness that made you gasp and arch. He filled you completely, inch by inch, until his hips were flush against yours, and you could feel him deep inside, pressing against that sensitive spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. He stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed to yours.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “So tight. So perfect.”

Then he began to move in long, slow strokes that dragged against your walls, each thrust a deliberate, loving caress. He set a rhythm, steady and deep, his hips rolling against yours. The angle was perfect with your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight a comforting pressure on top of you.

“Look at me,” he said, and you did. His eyes were burning, not with fire, but with emotion. “I want to see your face. I want to remember this forever.”

You reached up, cupping his scarred cheek, and he turned to press a kiss to your palm. His pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts.

He angled his hips, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and you shattered. Your orgasm crashed through you, a wave of heat and pleasure that clenched around his cock, pulling him deeper. He cried out your name as he followed, his release hot and pulsing, filling you completely. He kept thrusting through the aftershocks, slowing only when you both lay trembling and spent.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a quiet urgency, like even now he wasn’t willing to risk any distance between you. His face found its place in the curve of your neck, his breath warm, uneven at first, then slowly settling as it brushed against your skin. You could feel the rhythm of his heart through the space between you, so fast and insistent, it hadn’t yet caught up with the stillness that had begun to settle around you.

“I…” His voice faltered, softer than you’d ever heard it, the word catching somewhere deeper than his throat. “I love you.”

You smiled, the warmth of it softening through you before you even realized it, your fingers drifting over his chest in slow, absent patterns, tracing the rise and fall of his breath, the steadying of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“I love you too, Zuko.”

For a while, neither of you spoke.

The candles burned lower, their light steady now instead of restless, the room no longer charged with urgency. His fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, slow and thoughtful, like he was memorizing the shape of you in this moment, in this place that now belonged to both of you.

“Fire Lady,” he murmured after a while, the title quieter than it had ever sounded, as if he was still letting it become something real.

You huffed a small laugh against his shoulder. “That sounds… incredibly official.”

“It is,” he said. “But there’s no one I would rather call that.”

Your hand found his again, lacing your fingers together between you, his thumb brushing over the ring now resting where it belonged.

“…Sokka hugged you before I did.”

You blinked.

“What?”

Zuko shifted enough for you to catch the expression on his face, very clearly not as unaffected as he was trying to seem.

“He called you Fire Lady first,” he added. “And then he hugged you.”

You stared at him.

“You’re jealous of Sokka?”

“I’m not—” he started, then stopped, exhaling through his nose. “I just think the order of events was… incorrect.”

You laughed, the sound warm and bright, echoing in the room. “You proposed to me, Zuko.”

“Yes,” he said immediately.

“And you kissed me.”

“Yes.”

“And then Sokka hugged me.”

He frowned slightly, as though reconsidering the timeline. “That doesn’t make it better.”

“It absolutely does!”

You shifted closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Besides,” you murmured against him, “I think you’ve made your position very clear.”

That earned the smallest hint of a smile from him, the tension finally giving way.

“Good,” he said.

You settled back against him, your head resting just beneath his chin, his arms wrapping around you again without hesitation nor doubt.

Outside, the palace still existed, the council, the expectations, the future waiting to be faced.

But in there, none of it felt overwhelming anymore. Because this time, it wasn’t something he had to face alone.

And neither were you.

♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Note: What. A. Journey. This has been. Thank you so much for the overwhelming support on these series, I really appreciate every comment and interaction. I didn’t want to make this longer but damn I love the dynamic created so much!! Bet I will write about engaged reader and you can feel free to picture the lore of these two lol.

I’m planing an extra that can be read as a standalone as a thank you for the support! So I hope you liked this and I hope you like that when it comes out. Xx

🏷️: @thatonegirlag

[crushmeeren]

☽ ⋆ ⋅ it’s not zuko’s fault his wife can’t keep her hands off him.

☼ cw ; fem! reader, fire lord zuko, being late to a meeting because you can’t stop riding zuko, mentions of all the babies you guys have, sokka being sokka. the gaang’s all here (after the sex).

☽ ⋆ ⋅ m.list

“Come on Zuko— one more time? Please?” You’re panting, naked, hands braced on Zuko’s sweaty chest as you grind back and forth in his lap.

His breath hitches from the sheets, squeezing your hips. “Seriously? I’m already late. How does it— fuck. Stop that!” Zuko frowns and pinches your ass when you tighten around his cock on purpose.

“How does it look if the Fire Lord can’t stop fucking his wife long enough to attend a simple meeting with the Avatar?” He continues.

Zuko is still half hard inside your pussy, cum trailing down his shaft— filling out thick and hot by the second.

“Then why are you getting hard again?” You tease, dipping down to suck on his throat.

“That— that’s unfair,” he moans. You draw back to look at his face, and his cheeks are flushed such a similar color to his scar it almost blends together entirely.

“And if you really thought this meeting with Aang was important you wouldn’t still be in bed with me.” You place your palm over Zuko’s mouth, grinning at the way his eyes go wide and his cock twitches.

“Now shut up and let me ride my husband one more time.”

When you walk into the fire temple chambers where the meeting is taking place, the entire group is there.

Aang and Katara share a look, laughing at the picture you and Zuko make. Hair mussed and clothes ruffled, a hickey high on Zuko’s throat.

Sokka looks thoroughly annoyed and throws his hands up in exasperation.

“Seriously dude?!” He shouts, jumping from his chair and jabbing a finger at the poorly hidden hickey. “This is why the fire temple is crawling with your offspring!”

Toph snickers, and Zuko doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

forgive me i wrote this in thirty minutes immediately after i watched the movie.

[singse]

"Do you think she likes being with me?" Zuko asks Iroh one warm evening, both of them sheltered under the tall tree's green leaves. They cast patterns across the grass and the small table their tray of tea sits. "Do you think that...she minds all of this?"

"Why the sudden question?" Iroh asks in return, settling down his cup. "Did something happen between you two? It's normal, you know. To have the occasional argument."

Zuko shakes his head. "No, nothing happened." His face softens, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly. "Everything's been so great, it all feels like a fantasy sometimes. I just..." He trails off for a moment, hesitant. "Before we met, she was so free and spontaneous. She traveled around without a second thought because no obligations held her down. It remained the same when our relationship started until we got married and..."

"Became the Fire Lady," Iroh finishes, understanding. "You fear that she may be resentful towards you."

The words make Zuko flinch inwardly, his hands curling into fists in his lap.

"I sometimes wonder if I wasn't the Fire Lord," he confesses quietly. "If I refused to take the throne and chose to roam the world with her. If I had been born a regular person who was able to indulge in my whims and then met her." He stares at the deep reds of his robes that lay messily over his knees and finds he despises the colour. "I just...want her to be happy and I fear I'm not making her that."

Iroh doesn't reply at first, his face showcasing deep thought as he looks up at the vibrant leaves. Then he looks back at his nephew and smiles.

"You love her so much that if she asked to be free of you, you'd let her go without a second thought."

Zuko stares at him, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

"How did you—?"

"I'm your uncle, Zuko," Iroh reminds him. "We've also spent over the last decade in each other's pockets. I can read you and you can probably read me."

"Probably?"

"I'm also wiser than you," Iroh teases. "And my poker face is far better than yours."

Zuko scoffs but he's amused, Iroh can tell.

"I know her too, Zuko," Iroh continues. "I know that she would not stay if she were not comfortable or happy. Do you know why?"

Zuko shakes his head.

"Because you've nutured your relationship into something beautiful and trusting. You have not trapped her in a cage like your father did your mother. You let her speak her mind and feel her feelings. You value her opinions and take them to heart, using them in your decisions everyday. You show her that she is the most important person in your life in every little thing that you do. I don't know about you but I think that's a relationship worth staying for."

A moment of silence follows allowing Iroh's words to sink in heavily. Zuko swallows thickly, blinking his eyes suspiciously fast as he clear his throat.

"Y–you really think that—?" He starts slowly but is interrupted by your arrival. You're running into the gardens, robes hitched up so the hem doesn't trip you. You collide into Zuko's back, laughing when you almost topple both of you over.

"Zuko!" You exclaim happily, clinging to him and Iroh watches, fond, as his nephew immediately adjusts himself to hold you in his lap. His arms are firm around your waist and his expression, despite shocked, melts into pure affection.

"My Lady," he says smoothly, playful enough that it has you giggling. "What has you running around this evening? Did something happen?"

You shake your head, grinning. "Nope. I just thought about how I haven't seen you since morning and I missed you." You place a soft kiss against his cheek, rendering him speechless, before turning to Iroh.

"You owe me a rematch in Pai Sho," you declare, eyes glimmering and Iroh laughs, belly deep.

"Bring it out now and we'll see if you've learned enough to almost beat me."

"I'll go get the board." You place another kiss on Zuko's cheek, closer to his lips this time, before running out to grab the board.

"Still think she minds all of this? Still think she resents you?" Iroh asks but he already knows the answer.

The deeply in love smile Zuko gives in your direction is the biggest answer he can get.

He's relieved.

Iroh's done his duty as an uncle once again.

[bluukive-deactivated20260523]

𖧧 (MDNI) Firelord Zuko is rather awkward when it comes to his playful wife

Sawrry for the double post, my fyp has been filled with my malewife and I had to try writing for him.

"Am I not good enough to sleep with yet, Firelord Zuko?"

"Tch. I told you not to call me that," your husband murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The wrinkled edges of his scar deepened as he refused to make eye contact with a very exposed you laying on your side. "I'm your husband, not some... some stranger you lay with every night."

"You certainly act like that way. You can't even make look at me in the eye without scowling," you retorted, rolling your eyes and shuffling into a seating position. The silk sheets under your bare knees had twisted as you moved, the man now listening to you tug your robe over yourself.

All whilst keeping his eyes off of you, of course.

Zuko moved around your bedroom, busy doing nothing as a heat bloomed across his cheeks hotter than any fire he could shoot out of his fingers.

He was the Firelord, for God's sake. Why couldn't he face his clearly receptive wife who wished not nothing more than getting intimate with him?

Your voice calling out again interrupted his conflicted thoughts. "I get it what this is about. You don't love me," you sniffled dramatically, turning your back to your husband so that the grin on your face was concealed from sight.

In an instant, he whipped around — eye twitching. "Don't— God. don't start. You know that's not true."

When you didn't reply, he shuffled over, scratching the back of his head with a curse. His long hair had been freed a while back, framing the angular contours of his face under the flickering candlelight. Were you really upset?

You turned around once his hot palm met your revealed shoulder, where the robe had slipped off of you somewhat. There, he saw the way your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line.

Ignoring the fullness of your chest to the best of his fading ability, the way it sloped downwards until your nipples poked out from between your robe, he opened his mouth to apologise.

Until your eyes flickered with mirth.

Zuko pushed back, face deadpan. "What is wrong with you— mmph!"

Your husbands complaints were cut short the moment you tugged him by the arm, obscuring his vision the second he face-planted into your breasts.

Not that he minded, of course — but it was rather difficult for Zuko to do anything when all he had was a mouthful of soft flesh he could barely breathe around.

You stroked his head, carded your fingers through his long hair somewhat lovingly yet scolding all the same. "I didn't know I married a prude. You can fight plenty on the battlefield, so why not in bed?"

"That's not the same," he argued, the flush on his face deepening further when he pulled away. His eyes searched your face, taking in each and every detail he had come to love so dearly.

Indeed, you were beautiful — and it was that exact reason he couldn't face doing anything with you.

It was as if he became overwhelmed with a sudden sense of inadequacy. It was a feeling he struggled to articulate into words, the old habit of resorting to impulsive means threatening to bubble up yet again.

But Zuko swallowed it down, shook his head, and cradled one side of your face. "It's not you. It's me," he began, "am I really worthy of—"

You shut the thought down immediately, silencing him with your lips on yours. The peck was brief, yet carried over each and every thought you has for him.

"None of that. When has it ever been like you to talk like this?" You challenged, playfully cocking your head to the side. You dragged his hands down to your breasts, eliciting a faint twitch deep in his undergarments. "That's not the Firelord I married."

Phwump!

"...you're right," Zuko swallowed, regaining a semblance of his confidence back after gently pushing you onto your back. Just about, though — because he was still having difficulty finding it within himself to look into your eyes even whilst looming over you. Once he did, though, he was a goner.

Your husband scanned your entire form, cursing himself for what a fool he had been, missing out on countless nights on getting to know you, your body. "A fool indeed," you echoed, smiling once Zuko realised he had spoken allowed.

"Stop making fun of me," he rumbled, lowering his head to nip at your throat. "I'm not here to be turned into the butt of your jokes."

"You know I'll— mmh, do it regardless," you cooed breathily. Not once did Zuko pull back, even when you angled your head to the side to give you easier access.

His lips simply followed the movement with growing confidence — until he sank onto his knees, face buried between your quivering thighs.

[persephore]

consummate — fire-lord zuko ⤥

synopsis it’s been years since life had been rebuilt after ozai’s reign of tyranny. the fire nation — the entire world — is walking the fragile line of peace. to the council, it’s the perfect time for the firelord to marry a commoner woman of the water tribe. to zuko, its an even better time to get the gaang back together.

pairing firelord zuko x reader - insert

cw 3.5k, arranged marriage, implied kataang, aang is written as a wise ray of sunshine, sokka is a sarcastic womanizer, toph beifong is herself, katara is slightly stubborn, canon universe, wedding night, falling in love, fluff and smut, subtle angst, porn with feelings and plot, cunnilingus, married sex, throne sex, penis in vagina sex, no use of y/n for afab!reader, accidental branding, briefly mentioned breeding kink, creampie, short and sweet

link available on ao3

a/n haven’t seen the full movie yet so this is based off the many clips i’ve seen. im ngl, i know the whole storyline from tiktok so at this point i basically have seen the whole movie. anyway, happy reading!

To Aang, Toph, Katara, and Sokka

Becoming the Fire-Lord has normalized stress and many restless nights. Despite it all, I cannot forget the joy we shared. Before we parted ways there was a promise that if we ever needed each other we would come calling. This is my call. I’m getting married tomorrow night. Two months ago, the council decided the responsibility of ruling would be made a bit lighter with a wife by my side to care for. I haven’t met her yet. Never spoken to her. I kept putting it off, thinking they would cancel the ordeal on their own judgment, but now there’s only one more sunrise before the big day. I wish for advice as I also wish to see you all again even more. I missed you.

- signed, Fire-Lord Zuko

Zuko’s fingers brushed the makeup barely concealing his scar.

“What if she thinks my face is hideous?”

“Oh, please,” Toph scoffed, seated on the floor of his private chamber, “As if any woman on earth has ever called you ugly before.”

“I never thought you’d still be capable of seeming so insecure,” Katara chuckled lightly, “Being nervous is a good sign at the start of a relationship.”

“They’re both right.” Aang offered a smile and two thumbs up of encouragement. One of his arms was loosely wrapped around Katara’s waist. “You’re overthinking this, Zuko. The woman’s most likely scared of being in an arranged marriage too. Worried it will forcefully tie her to some mean, arrogant tyrant.”

Sokka leaned against the doorframe. “In that case she would hate the old you. Unless she likes mean, arrogant tyrants. Then you’re screwed regardless.”

Three other individuals in the room glared at Sokka while Zuko swallowed hard and glanced at his reflection in the mirror one last time.

Royal robes had been neatly cleaned and pressed in preparation for the wedding. Recently, long dark hair had grown even longer. Excluding the scar his skin was unblemished. Fire-Lord Zuko looked far healthier now that stress wasn’t too much of a constant in his life anymore. The Fire Nation was at peace, other elemental civilizations equally so. This timing was perfect to prove he wouldn’t be as aggressive as his predecessor. To marry a bender provided by the water tribe and birth a heir.

All according to the council, of course.

Still, he buried his face in his hands.

“At the end of the night I’m expected to consummate the marriage…”

Sokka fanned his hand with mock nonchalance. “That should be the easiest part. I mean, we’re all adults. We already know what part goes in where —“

Both Aang and Katara coughed, faces flushed bright red.

“What if she doesn’t want to?” Zuko groaned. His forehead collided with wood. “What if the idea scares her off or makes her think I’m some kind of sick bastard? A royal marriage remains unconfirmed unless the wedding night is spent together.”

“Here’s some real advice, lie to the council. Pretend like something happened even if it didn’t. Old geezers who haven’t gotten their rocks off in years wouldn’t be able to decipher a lie like that.”

Toph’s words made Zuko inhale deeply, exhaling twice as hard in an effort to calm his nerves. The woman was right. Besides, there wouldn’t be any worry of witnesses accusing him of deceit.

“Or are you just nervous because you haven’t been with a woman in a while?”

Zuko’s teeth gritted at Sokka’s teasing. “It hasn’t been that long.”

Toph snorted a laugh. “Oh yeah? How long has it been?”

No answer was given, not when Zuko came to the realization that it had been a while. It wasn’t intentional, nor something he knowingly kept track of.

“Told ya.” Sokka gloated at the silence. “It’s expected for a Fire-Lord to be pent-up — you know, ruling his kingdom and all…”

Katara rolled her eyes. “As if you’re drowning in women.”

Sokka smirked. “Duh, I am. That’s my specialty.”

“Anyway,” Aang recentered the conversation, “Everything will be fine. When we first met, all of us had our own negative perceptions. Now we’re all here to support you because you proved us wrong. If you did it once it could definitely be done again.”

“Correctamundo,” Sokka firmly nodded, placing a hand on his hip. “Right now your biggest worry should be if your bride is actually super gross-looking.”

“That shouldn’t matter, Sokka.” Katara sighed. “I doubt it. Water tribe women are always beautiful.”

Aang hadn’t taken his gaze off Katara as he mumbled, sheepishly massaging his neck.

“Agreed.”

“Appearance hasn’t crossed my mind. Who am I to judge something like that?” Zuko stood from his seat at the vanity. Heated hands straightened his black and red garments before his eyes settled on each of his childhood friends. His tense expression softened. “I appreciate you all finding time to be here. Truly.”

Katara gave a gentle smile. “Whenever you need us we’ll find time for you. Always.”

Two servants entered the room with their heads bowed low, announcing synchronously once permission was granted.

“Fire-Lord Zuko, your bride has arrived from the Northern Water Tribe.”

Fireworks exploded under a vast starry sky. The festival of steam had commenced, joining water and fire.

The entire time, Zuko hadn’t realized he was staring.

Dancers, music, lights… all were a blur. None could captivate him as his wife had. Feeling him watch you, you glanced in his direction. The small motion made Zuko mend his posture and offer an awkward closed-lipped smile, but his gaze refused to depart from the soft looking skin of your lips, your eyes glowing above a trail of embers. A word hadn’t even uttered through your lips intended for him yet.

Man, how long has he been this pent-up without realizing?

Perhaps Sokka was right.

Zuko made a silent oath to never utter those words out loud.

The wedding ceremony had went smoothly.

There was no doubt it would since there was no need for the husband and bride to interact with each other beforehand. Besides making eye contact a few times, each remained within respective palanquins while a highly-ranked councilman announced the newfound duties of an emerging royal family.

Much later into the night both you and Zuko were still seated separately, only allowing him to admire you from afar. The robes on your body were elegant, silver and blue fabrics complimenting the power coursing through your veins. A corset squeezed ribs so much Zuko could see your small gasps for breath. Each time you shimmered in firelight when a dancer passed made the Fire-Lord even more mesmerized.

There was a new ring on your finger, a fire nation crown on your head…

A weight heavy on your skull.

All of this — the dress, the jewels, the endless fuss — it wasn’t intended for the pleasure of love. Today was dedicated to the survivors traumatized by a meaningless war, worried that a minor incident would tip the scale. To the mothers and fathers fearing their children will be kidnapped and forced to fight again, losing their lives for a selfish tyrant. That stripped this marriage of any emotional meaning and instead provided a logical one. And you — since childhood you had wanted to escape the Northern Water Tribe and its society favored toward men.

Now, what should have been an opportunity at freedom felt more like a cage.

Your fingers clenched the fabric of your dress. You leaned over to a fire nation servant, whispering words Zuko couldn’t hear.

Then, you climbed off the palanquin held on the shoulders of water tribe maidservants.

Zuko watched you saunter into the palace before quickly hustling to follow you, ignoring a councilman who had asked where he could be running off to.

Through long corridors, you stepped onto a balcony, leaned against a railing as you gazed up at the moon. A source begging to be used. It couldn’t be. Not when all that surround you was aggressively overpowering fire.

Zuko stepped onto the balcony behind you, quietly offering his first words in hours.

“May I ask what’s on your mind?”

A response came just as gentle.

“Needed some air. The steam was too much to handle. Too forceful.”

Zuko knew you meant that more in a figurative sense than literal.

“I assume the centuries of war imposed by the fire nation has made you reluctant of this marriage…”

“Reluctant isn’t quite the term I would use.” For a water tribe commoner, your tone was surprisingly warm and steady. “I prefer to drift with the flow of life. If it has brought me to be with you, I will accept it.”

Zuko leaned his forearms on the railing of the balcony; gazed down at the people still singing, dancing, drinking. A mix of water-benders and fire-benders lingered in the crowd, fewer earth-benders cheering along. All interacting with one another.

“My mother was forced to marry my father. She lived a facade of contentment, but cracks always showed the truth,” he buried reemerging thoughts of resentment to instead whisper, “I refuse to become like him.”

The Fire-Lord hesitantly pulled a small box into the night air. One that had been hidden within his robes the entire evening as he struggled to hide the slight tremble of his fingertips. Zuko watched you open it with awe, your eyes brimming with gratitude at the sight of a traditional betrothal choker inside. Instead of being water tribe colors, the collar was black while the pendant itself was blue with fiery red detailings.

“This is beautiful,“ you whispered with honesty, “Unique.”

“It was inspired by one I had seen before. May I put it on you?”

As soon as you nodded Zuko shifted behind you.

Gentle hands slowly tugged blue attire lower. A chilly breeze licked the base of your neck. You could feel him close. Even through clothes his body was warm, strong. His presence created a heat of its own. The adornment raised to wrap tight around your neck.

When Zuko spoke, his sultry breath caressed your ear like silk.

“I was scarred due to my father’s relentless greed for power. The fire nation has hurt me too. I’ve worked tirelessly to fix the consequences.”

“Then I suppose a mark like this isn’t new to you?” A silver sleeve was pulled back to display a burn on the otherwise smooth skin of your arm. “What happened to all the fire nation soldiers arrogant enough to burn children for fun? Do they still live their lives worry free? Is the Fire-Lord so forgiving?”

Zuko tenderly raised your arm to his lips where he placed a soft kiss on the scar.

“I assure you that they’ve been dealt with. A long time ago. Thoroughly.”

“Well the trauma still remains.” Your back turned to him. “I apologize for my insolence, my lord.”

Strong hands held your waist with a benign yet commanding strength, stopping you from drifting away. “There’s no need to call me that. You’re my wife. It sounds a little —“ he cleared his throat, faint redness creeping up his cheeks “— suggestive when my title comes from your lips.”

Your head tilted to the side. A teasing grin crawled onto your face. “Is that how you prefer it, my lord?”

“When a voice such as yours says it, yes.”

You stiffened upon the realization that his flirting had managed to draw a smile from you. After a moment of hesitation, you turned back around to face him. His eyes meet yours under the moonlight, a fountain of fire on the balcony making them glow golden.

“We can make this work,” you conceded with a sigh. “I just want freedom, is all. To feel like my own person, not some random water-bending commoner forced to marry the ruler of the fire nation.”

“Everything you want will be yours. I promise.”

There was a glossy look in his eyes, wet and wanting. A hunger that had been restrained. He inched closer, providing all the time you would need to pull away.

But, you didn’t.

As soon as his lips met yours, his body relaxed for the first time of the night, stress melting beneath your hands braced his chest. All the while, his touch never stopped wandering. Your neck. Your arms. Dragging along your spine until your back subconsciously arched.

A breathless laugh escaped you. “Why are you so eager? We have all night.”

“You’re comfortable spending the night with me? You’re not scared or disgusted or…”

He trailed off at the feeling of your fingertips grazing slowly down his body, ceasing dangerously low on the fabric concealing his v-line.

“We still have a marriage to consummate.”

“You knew about that…?”

“I was discomforted at the thought of sleeping with a man the same night I’d meet him. But…” your words became even quieter, but they were certain, “I think… now that I’m aware of the honor you prioritize… I’m okay with this. More than okay.”

Zuko no longer held onto restraint as he fumbled to steer you toward his private chamber. When your bodies stumbled into the corridor, Toph, Sokka, Aang, and Katara were straining to hear if things were going smoothly with the newlyweds who had disappeared from their celebration. You halted at the sight of a peculiar man — Sokka — straightening when he realized he’d been caught with his ear against the door.

A long heated kiss was planted to your cheek while you spoke with a smile. “I was informed by some servants earlier that my husband’s friends will all spend the next three days here. That he treasured you all above anything else. I hope we’ll become equally as close during that time.”

“Are you trying to suck her face off? That’s not how you’re supposed to kiss —“

Katara slammed a hand over her brother’s mouth to muffle the heckling. “I’m sure we will. Enjoy your night. Looks like he already is.”

Zuko paused long enough to toss your weight onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. You let out a small noise of surprise while he nodded firmly to his group of friends.

“If you need anything do not hesitate to call for a servant. We will see all of you at breakfast.”

Without waiting for a response, Zuko carried you towards the entryway of the throne room, hurriedly stating that it was closest. Aang laughed when the threshold shut with a loud slam.

“Looks like he was worried for nothing.”

“Who’s next to get married in the group? Never would’ve expected him to be first.” Toph sighed, “I haven’t met anyone strong enough to outmatch me yet.”

Sokka shrugged. “Meh, I’m having to much fun playing around.”

Both Toph and Sokka swiveled to face Aang and Katara who both nervously twitched. Heavy stares were desperately avoided.

In the grand room, Zuko murmured against your mouth. His muscled chest cornered yours against his throne. You had already pulled his clothing from him down to just his underwear, delighting in the way firelight from candles outlined his blatant strength. “Tomorrow, I will dedicate my time to learning more of you. Ways a devoted husband should.” His hands caressed along your sides, fiddled with buttons.

There was a teasing look on your face when you pulled the pin that declared him Fire-Lord off his head, long hair releasing from its hold.

You grabbed him close. Soft lips grazed his earlobe.

“I’m aware of another way a husband and a wife should get to know each other.”

Zuko seated you on his throne then lowered to his knees, inching the fabric of your dress from your thighs as amber-colored eyes gazed up into yours.

“Of course, my love.”

Wet. It was all so wet.

Zuko’s saliva drooled over your entrance, tongue sliding over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His mouth latched onto your pussy hot and drenched. Amber eyes looked lost, unfocused, as if the intoxicating passion drawing whines from you was drowning him along with. The sight of the Fire-Lord quivering, kneeled in front of his throne while he serviced you between your thighs… The man was famished. His painfully hard cock stood upright through a tight confinement of fabric.

Closed eyes, furrowed brows, the sweet juices leaking from your cunt glossed his lips.

Messy, so unbelievably maddening.

You whimpered as legs clenched against his head.

“My lord…”

Frantically, your clothes were torn away with a loud rip. Broad fingers slid your panties to the side as boxers were haphazardly shoved down his thighs.

“Give your first order as queen, my love.” His hands softly caressed the flesh of your hips while he kissed your collarbone. “Declare what you desire of me.”

“I … I order you to make love to me.”

"From this moment forward, whatever you wish is my command.”

The delicate moan that echoed the throne room nearly made him cum on the spot when the head breached. Barely. Deliciously tight was the hole that anchored him within.

"I’m yours, my lady, all of me," In an attempt to soothe you, warming fingers massaged your waist in circles. There was a possessed look in his eyes when you watched the pleasure shown on his face. Parted lips, groans scraping from the depths of his throat. A thumb circled your quivering clit. "That’s it…”

Surprised, a broken-sounding moan left your lips when he began to thrust hard without him being fully inside yet.

Zuko was never a patient man.

Immensely infatuated with you? Yes.

Careful to remain merciful when necessary? Yes.

But patient wasn't a descriptor even his childhood friends would use for him.

Raw, like an untamed animal, each thrust shoved him deeper until your pussy was stretched to the fullest, his balls slapping your ass.

Zuko’s jerky movements melted your thoughts when his mouth attached to your neck and began to suck and bite, strong hands holding your knees over his shoulders. He wasn’t too vocal — small groans and whines doing more than enough to turn you on even more — but you were. How could you stay quiet when his cock bulled through your walls with the heat of a madman, the thumb once at your thigh returning to your clit as needy moans shifted an octave higher?

Uncontrolled, filthy taunts were whispered against your ear.

“Look at you taking me so well…”

“I can still taste your pussy on my tongue…”

“You’re squeezing me, my love, my wife… so wet…”

And when you clamped on him with a sweet cry, he groaned, forcing his length with a squelch.

"So good..." his voice fractured when your pussy squeezed tighter. "Ready to let go for me? I can feel it."

It was true. You were close, oh so close. Any sense of control slipped through your grasp. Your legs jolted with every driving thrust, wetness leaking onto the seat beneath you.

“I — I can’t…”

"Yes you can. Bless me with the expression my queen makes when she loses control. I — I’m here. I’m right here with you."

Zuko talked through your moment of pure bliss, guiding with soft whispers of worship for your body, your beauty. He begged you to cum as if it would be the last time he ever got the chance to feel you. His heat enticed. His weight cemented you to his throne. In a matter of seconds the coil snapped free. A wave of pleasure washed over you — brutal, making your head tilt back.

Your hands moved in a hurry to stifle your loud moans. They were immediately yanked away, pinned to his heaving chest.

“Don’t hide. Everyone in the palace will know you’re mine.”

His sudden possessiveness was one that couldn’t be controlled.

It strengthened at the feeling of his cock beginning to throb. The urge to stuff you filled his mind till he was nearly delirious.

“Oh god …”

One final slam lodged him deep with a low groan. Burning hands fisted the armrests of his throne, then grasped you tight when his dick pulsed, trembles shivering through his thighs.

A kiss poured longing into you until you were aching, yearning. His cock swelled and erupted, filling your already sloppy hole with a mess of cum. The entire time, Zuko whined and shook, feeling your pussy convulse to beckon more and more of his load. Your desperate mewls of his name only made him feel even dizzier, his eyes shutting tight. Curses rolled from him like a mantra. A small whisper mentioned how much he craved to see your stomach full with his child.

Scratches trailed down his chest red-stained like claw marks.

By time Zuko regained his senses the realization of how heated his body had become dawned.

Smoke wafted from the hand placed on your hip. The scorch caused you to flinch at the burn accidentally left behind as the Fire-Lord hurriedly flung himself to the ground. Zuko tensed. The scar was shaped like a disfigured handprint. If anyone saw it the first rightful assumption would be he branded you intentionally or assaulted you out of anger.

Fingertips mindlessly grazed his own scar. Breaths came faster out of panic.

“Sorry, I — sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I usually have better control —“

“I like it,” you murmured tiredly, caressing the mark, “If the council ever questions our marriage, I will show them this with pride.”

The genuine contentment on your face was everything needed to quell his racing heart.

[tellatoast]

…it’s real hot in here😮‍💨😮‍💨

[persephore]

consummate — fire-lord zuko ⤥

synopsis it’s been years since life had been rebuilt after ozai’s reign of tyranny. the fire nation — the entire world — is walking the fragile line of peace. to the council, it’s the perfect time for the firelord to marry a commoner woman of the water tribe. to zuko, its an even better time to get the gaang back together.

pairing firelord zuko x reader - insert

cw 3.5k, arranged marriage, implied kataang, aang is written as a wise ray of sunshine, sokka is a sarcastic womanizer, toph beifong is herself, katara is slightly stubborn, canon universe, wedding night, falling in love, fluff and smut, subtle angst, porn with feelings and plot, cunnilingus, married sex, throne sex, penis in vagina sex, no use of y/n for afab!reader, accidental branding, briefly mentioned breeding kink, creampie, short and sweet

link available on ao3

a/n haven’t seen the full movie yet so this is based off the many clips i’ve seen. im ngl, i know the whole storyline from tiktok so at this point i basically have seen the whole movie. anyway, happy reading!

To Aang, Toph, Katara, and Sokka

Becoming the Fire-Lord has normalized stress and many restless nights. Despite it all, I cannot forget the joy we shared. Before we parted ways there was a promise that if we ever needed each other we would come calling. This is my call. I’m getting married tomorrow night. Two months ago, the council decided the responsibility of ruling would be made a bit lighter with a wife by my side to care for. I haven’t met her yet. Never spoken to her. I kept putting it off, thinking they would cancel the ordeal on their own judgment, but now there’s only one more sunrise before the big day. I wish for advice as I also wish to see you all again even more. I missed you.

- signed, Fire-Lord Zuko

Zuko’s fingers brushed the makeup barely concealing his scar.

“What if she thinks my face is hideous?”

“Oh, please,” Toph scoffed, seated on the floor of his private chamber, “As if any woman on earth has ever called you ugly before.”

“I never thought you’d still be capable of seeming so insecure,” Katara chuckled lightly, “Being nervous is a good sign at the start of a relationship.”

“They’re both right.” Aang offered a smile and two thumbs up of encouragement. One of his arms was loosely wrapped around Katara’s waist. “You’re overthinking this, Zuko. The woman’s most likely scared of being in an arranged marriage too. Worried it will forcefully tie her to some mean, arrogant tyrant.”

Sokka leaned against the doorframe. “In that case she would hate the old you. Unless she likes mean, arrogant tyrants. Then you’re screwed regardless.”

Three other individuals in the room glared at Sokka while Zuko swallowed hard and glanced at his reflection in the mirror one last time.

Royal robes had been neatly cleaned and pressed in preparation for the wedding. Recently, long dark hair had grown even longer. Excluding the scar his skin was unblemished. Fire-Lord Zuko looked far healthier now that stress wasn’t too much of a constant in his life anymore. The Fire Nation was at peace, other elemental civilizations equally so. This timing was perfect to prove he wouldn’t be as aggressive as his predecessor. To marry a bender provided by the water tribe and birth a heir.

All according to the council, of course.

Still, he buried his face in his hands.

“At the end of the night I’m expected to consummate the marriage…”

Sokka fanned his hand with mock nonchalance. “That should be the easiest part. I mean, we’re all adults. We already know what part goes in where —“

Both Aang and Katara coughed, faces flushed bright red.

“What if she doesn’t want to?” Zuko groaned. His forehead collided with wood. “What if the idea scares her off or makes her think I’m some kind of sick bastard? A royal marriage remains unconfirmed unless the wedding night is spent together.”

“Here’s some real advice, lie to the council. Pretend like something happened even if it didn’t. Old geezers who haven’t gotten their rocks off in years wouldn’t be able to decipher a lie like that.”

Toph’s words made Zuko inhale deeply, exhaling twice as hard in an effort to calm his nerves. The woman was right. Besides, there wouldn’t be any worry of witnesses accusing him of deceit.

“Or are you just nervous because you haven’t been with a woman in a while?”

Zuko’s teeth gritted at Sokka’s teasing. “It hasn’t been that long.”

Toph snorted a laugh. “Oh yeah? How long has it been?”

No answer was given, not when Zuko came to the realization that it had been a while. It wasn’t intentional, nor something he knowingly kept track of.

“Told ya.” Sokka gloated at the silence. “It’s expected for a Fire-Lord to be pent-up — you know, ruling his kingdom and all…”

Katara rolled her eyes. “As if you’re drowning in women.”

Sokka smirked. “Duh, I am. That’s my specialty.”

“Anyway,” Aang recentered the conversation, “Everything will be fine. When we first met, all of us had our own negative perceptions. Now we’re all here to support you because you proved us wrong. If you did it once it could definitely be done again.”

“Correctamundo,” Sokka firmly nodded, placing a hand on his hip. “Right now your biggest worry should be if your bride is actually super gross-looking.”

“That shouldn’t matter, Sokka.” Katara sighed. “I doubt it. Water tribe women are always beautiful.”

Aang hadn’t taken his gaze off Katara as he mumbled, sheepishly massaging his neck.

“Agreed.”

“Appearance hasn’t crossed my mind. Who am I to judge something like that?” Zuko stood from his seat at the vanity. Heated hands straightened his black and red garments before his eyes settled on each of his childhood friends. His tense expression softened. “I appreciate you all finding time to be here. Truly.”

Katara gave a gentle smile. “Whenever you need us we’ll find time for you. Always.”

Two servants entered the room with their heads bowed low, announcing synchronously once permission was granted.

“Fire-Lord Zuko, your bride has arrived from the Northern Water Tribe.”

Fireworks exploded under a vast starry sky. The festival of steam had commenced, joining water and fire.

The entire time, Zuko hadn’t realized he was staring.

Dancers, music, lights… all were a blur. None could captivate him as his wife had. Feeling him watch you, you glanced in his direction. The small motion made Zuko mend his posture and offer an awkward closed-lipped smile, but his gaze refused to depart from the soft looking skin of your lips, your eyes glowing above a trail of embers. A word hadn’t even uttered through your lips intended for him yet.

Man, how long has he been this pent-up without realizing?

Perhaps Sokka was right.

Zuko made a silent oath to never utter those words out loud.

The wedding ceremony had went smoothly.

There was no doubt it would since there was no need for the husband and bride to interact with each other beforehand. Besides making eye contact a few times, each remained within respective palanquins while a highly-ranked councilman announced the newfound duties of an emerging royal family.

Much later into the night both you and Zuko were still seated separately, only allowing him to admire you from afar. The robes on your body were elegant, silver and blue fabrics complimenting the power coursing through your veins. A corset squeezed ribs so much Zuko could see your small gasps for breath. Each time you shimmered in firelight when a dancer passed made the Fire-Lord even more mesmerized.

There was a new ring on your finger, a fire nation crown on your head…

A weight heavy on your skull.

All of this — the dress, the jewels, the endless fuss — it wasn’t intended for the pleasure of love. Today was dedicated to the survivors traumatized by a meaningless war, worried that a minor incident would tip the scale. To the mothers and fathers fearing their children will be kidnapped and forced to fight again, losing their lives for a selfish tyrant. That stripped this marriage of any emotional meaning and instead provided a logical one. And you — since childhood you had wanted to escape the Northern Water Tribe and its society favored toward men.

Now, what should have been an opportunity at freedom felt more like a cage.

Your fingers clenched the fabric of your dress. You leaned over to a fire nation servant, whispering words Zuko couldn’t hear.

Then, you climbed off the palanquin held on the shoulders of water tribe maidservants.

Zuko watched you saunter into the palace before quickly hustling to follow you, ignoring a councilman who had asked where he could be running off to.

Through long corridors, you stepped onto a balcony, leaned against a railing as you gazed up at the moon. A source begging to be used. It couldn’t be. Not when all that surround you was aggressively overpowering fire.

Zuko stepped onto the balcony behind you, quietly offering his first words in hours.

“May I ask what’s on your mind?”

A response came just as gentle.

“Needed some air. The steam was too much to handle. Too forceful.”

Zuko knew you meant that more in a figurative sense than literal.

“I assume the centuries of war imposed by the fire nation has made you reluctant of this marriage…”

“Reluctant isn’t quite the term I would use.” For a water tribe commoner, your tone was surprisingly warm and steady. “I prefer to drift with the flow of life. If it has brought me to be with you, I will accept it.”

Zuko leaned his forearms on the railing of the balcony; gazed down at the people still singing, dancing, drinking. A mix of water-benders and fire-benders lingered in the crowd, fewer earth-benders cheering along. All interacting with one another.

“My mother was forced to marry my father. She lived a facade of contentment, but cracks always showed the truth,” he buried reemerging thoughts of resentment to instead whisper, “I refuse to become like him.”

The Fire-Lord hesitantly pulled a small box into the night air. One that had been hidden within his robes the entire evening as he struggled to hide the slight tremble of his fingertips. Zuko watched you open it with awe, your eyes brimming with gratitude at the sight of a traditional betrothal choker inside. Instead of being water tribe colors, the collar was black while the pendant itself was blue with fiery red detailings.

“This is beautiful,“ you whispered with honesty, “Unique.”

“It was inspired by one I had seen before. May I put it on you?”

As soon as you nodded Zuko shifted behind you.

Gentle hands slowly tugged blue attire lower. A chilly breeze licked the base of your neck. You could feel him close. Even through clothes his body was warm, strong. His presence created a heat of its own. The adornment raised to wrap tight around your neck.

When Zuko spoke, his sultry breath caressed your ear like silk.

“I was scarred due to my father’s relentless greed for power. The fire nation has hurt me too. I’ve worked tirelessly to fix the consequences.”

“Then I suppose a mark like this isn’t new to you?” A silver sleeve was pulled back to display a burn on the otherwise smooth skin of your arm. “What happened to all the fire nation soldiers arrogant enough to burn children for fun? Do they still live their lives worry free? Is the Fire-Lord so forgiving?”

Zuko tenderly raised your arm to his lips where he placed a soft kiss on the scar.

“I assure you that they’ve been dealt with. A long time ago. Thoroughly.”

“Well the trauma still remains.” Your back turned to him. “I apologize for my insolence, my lord.”

Strong hands held your waist with a benign yet commanding strength, stopping you from drifting away. “There’s no need to call me that. You’re my wife. It sounds a little —“ he cleared his throat, faint redness creeping up his cheeks “— suggestive when my title comes from your lips.”

Your head tilted to the side. A teasing grin crawled onto your face. “Is that how you prefer it, my lord?”

“When a voice such as yours says it, yes.”

You stiffened upon the realization that his flirting had managed to draw a smile from you. After a moment of hesitation, you turned back around to face him. His eyes meet yours under the moonlight, a fountain of fire on the balcony making them glow golden.

“We can make this work,” you conceded with a sigh. “I just want freedom, is all. To feel like my own person, not some random water-bending commoner forced to marry the ruler of the fire nation.”

“Everything you want will be yours. I promise.”

There was a glossy look in his eyes, wet and wanting. A hunger that had been restrained. He inched closer, providing all the time you would need to pull away.

But, you didn’t.

As soon as his lips met yours, his body relaxed for the first time of the night, stress melting beneath your hands braced his chest. All the while, his touch never stopped wandering. Your neck. Your arms. Dragging along your spine until your back subconsciously arched.

A breathless laugh escaped you. “Why are you so eager? We have all night.”

“You’re comfortable spending the night with me? You’re not scared or disgusted or…”

He trailed off at the feeling of your fingertips grazing slowly down his body, ceasing dangerously low on the fabric concealing his v-line.

“We still have a marriage to consummate.”

“You knew about that…?”

“I was discomforted at the thought of sleeping with a man the same night I’d meet him. But…” your words became even quieter, but they were certain, “I think… now that I’m aware of the honor you prioritize… I’m okay with this. More than okay.”

Zuko no longer held onto restraint as he fumbled to steer you toward his private chamber. When your bodies stumbled into the corridor, Toph, Sokka, Aang, and Katara were straining to hear if things were going smoothly with the newlyweds who had disappeared from their celebration. You halted at the sight of a peculiar man — Sokka — straightening when he realized he’d been caught with his ear against the door.

A long heated kiss was planted to your cheek while you spoke with a smile. “I was informed by some servants earlier that my husband’s friends will all spend the next three days here. That he treasured you all above anything else. I hope we’ll become equally as close during that time.”

“Are you trying to suck her face off? That’s not how you’re supposed to kiss —“

Katara slammed a hand over her brother’s mouth to muffle the heckling. “I’m sure we will. Enjoy your night. Looks like he already is.”

Zuko paused long enough to toss your weight onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. You let out a small noise of surprise while he nodded firmly to his group of friends.

“If you need anything do not hesitate to call for a servant. We will see all of you at breakfast.”

Without waiting for a response, Zuko carried you towards the entryway of the throne room, hurriedly stating that it was closest. Aang laughed when the threshold shut with a loud slam.

“Looks like he was worried for nothing.”

“Who’s next to get married in the group? Never would’ve expected him to be first.” Toph sighed, “I haven’t met anyone strong enough to outmatch me yet.”

Sokka shrugged. “Meh, I’m having to much fun playing around.”

Both Toph and Sokka swiveled to face Aang and Katara who both nervously twitched. Heavy stares were desperately avoided.

In the grand room, Zuko murmured against your mouth. His muscled chest cornered yours against his throne. You had already pulled his clothing from him down to just his underwear, delighting in the way firelight from candles outlined his blatant strength. “Tomorrow, I will dedicate my time to learning more of you. Ways a devoted husband should.” His hands caressed along your sides, fiddled with buttons.

There was a teasing look on your face when you pulled the pin that declared him Fire-Lord off his head, long hair releasing from its hold.

You grabbed him close. Soft lips grazed his earlobe.

“I’m aware of another way a husband and a wife should get to know each other.”

Zuko seated you on his throne then lowered to his knees, inching the fabric of your dress from your thighs as amber-colored eyes gazed up into yours.

“Of course, my love.”

Wet. It was all so wet.

Zuko’s saliva drooled over your entrance, tongue sliding over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His mouth latched onto your pussy hot and drenched. Amber eyes looked lost, unfocused, as if the intoxicating passion drawing whines from you was drowning him along with. The sight of the Fire-Lord quivering, kneeled in front of his throne while he serviced you between your thighs… The man was famished. His painfully hard cock stood upright through a tight confinement of fabric.

Closed eyes, furrowed brows, the sweet juices leaking from your cunt glossed his lips.

Messy, so unbelievably maddening.

You whimpered as legs clenched against his head.

“My lord…”

Frantically, your clothes were torn away with a loud rip. Broad fingers slid your panties to the side as boxers were haphazardly shoved down his thighs.

“Give your first order as queen, my love.” His hands softly caressed the flesh of your hips while he kissed your collarbone. “Declare what you desire of me.”

“I … I order you to make love to me.”

"From this moment forward, whatever you wish is my command.”

The delicate moan that echoed the throne room nearly made him cum on the spot when the head breached. Barely. Deliciously tight was the hole that anchored him within.

"I’m yours, my lady, all of me," In an attempt to soothe you, warming fingers massaged your waist in circles. There was a possessed look in his eyes when you watched the pleasure shown on his face. Parted lips, groans scraping from the depths of his throat. A thumb circled your quivering clit. "That’s it…”

Surprised, a broken-sounding moan left your lips when he began to thrust hard without him being fully inside yet.

Zuko was never a patient man.

Immensely infatuated with you? Yes.

Careful to remain merciful when necessary? Yes.

But patient wasn't a descriptor even his childhood friends would use for him.

Raw, like an untamed animal, each thrust shoved him deeper until your pussy was stretched to the fullest, his balls slapping your ass.

Zuko’s jerky movements melted your thoughts when his mouth attached to your neck and began to suck and bite, strong hands holding your knees over his shoulders. He wasn’t too vocal — small groans and whines doing more than enough to turn you on even more — but you were. How could you stay quiet when his cock bulled through your walls with the heat of a madman, the thumb once at your thigh returning to your clit as needy moans shifted an octave higher?

Uncontrolled, filthy taunts were whispered against your ear.

“Look at you taking me so well…”

“I can still taste your pussy on my tongue…”

“You’re squeezing me, my love, my wife… so wet…”

And when you clamped on him with a sweet cry, he groaned, forcing his length with a squelch.

"So good..." his voice fractured when your pussy squeezed tighter. "Ready to let go for me? I can feel it."

It was true. You were close, oh so close. Any sense of control slipped through your grasp. Your legs jolted with every driving thrust, wetness leaking onto the seat beneath you.

“I — I can’t…”

"Yes you can. Bless me with the expression my queen makes when she loses control. I — I’m here. I’m right here with you."

Zuko talked through your moment of pure bliss, guiding with soft whispers of worship for your body, your beauty. He begged you to cum as if it would be the last time he ever got the chance to feel you. His heat enticed. His weight cemented you to his throne. In a matter of seconds the coil snapped free. A wave of pleasure washed over you — brutal, making your head tilt back.

Your hands moved in a hurry to stifle your loud moans. They were immediately yanked away, pinned to his heaving chest.

“Don’t hide. Everyone in the palace will know you’re mine.”

His sudden possessiveness was one that couldn’t be controlled.

It strengthened at the feeling of his cock beginning to throb. The urge to stuff you filled his mind till he was nearly delirious.

“Oh god …”

One final slam lodged him deep with a low groan. Burning hands fisted the armrests of his throne, then grasped you tight when his dick pulsed, trembles shivering through his thighs.

A kiss poured longing into you until you were aching, yearning. His cock swelled and erupted, filling your already sloppy hole with a mess of cum. The entire time, Zuko whined and shook, feeling your pussy convulse to beckon more and more of his load. Your desperate mewls of his name only made him feel even dizzier, his eyes shutting tight. Curses rolled from him like a mantra. A small whisper mentioned how much he craved to see your stomach full with his child.

Scratches trailed down his chest red-stained like claw marks.

By time Zuko regained his senses the realization of how heated his body had become dawned.

Smoke wafted from the hand placed on your hip. The scorch caused you to flinch at the burn accidentally left behind as the Fire-Lord hurriedly flung himself to the ground. Zuko tensed. The scar was shaped like a disfigured handprint. If anyone saw it the first rightful assumption would be he branded you intentionally or assaulted you out of anger.

Fingertips mindlessly grazed his own scar. Breaths came faster out of panic.

“Sorry, I — sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I usually have better control —“

“I like it,” you murmured tiredly, caressing the mark, “If the council ever questions our marriage, I will show them this with pride.”

The genuine contentment on your face was everything needed to quell his racing heart.

[tellatoast]

…it’s real hot in here😮‍💨😮‍💨

[mights-quills]

everybody wants to read smut, no one wants to read slow burn, plot heavy fics

[arfemiz]

SCARRED

fire lord! zuko x wife!reader | explicit smut, bathing sex, body worship and insecurity, MDNI 18+

masterlist . . . . . ↷

"...again?" the pillow muffled ZUKO'S groan as he rolled onto his back, eyeing the empty space beside him. the sheets were still warm from where you had been moments ago... vanishing into the bathing chamber like smoke whenever his hands wandered too close.

moonlight caught his bare shoulders tense as he sat up. "you can't keep avoiding me forever," he called toward the shut door. the answering silence prickled his skin.

Inside the bath chamber, you pressed damp palms to the mirror, your reflection distorted. three months since your little daughter's birth, and still your body felt like unfamiliar territory. fire nation nobility whispered about concubines with unmarked skin, while you...

a knock. "talk to me." zuko's voice, low on his side.

the door creaked open before you could answer, steam curling around zuko’s feet as he stepped inside. his hair, half - undone from sleep, fell across his scarred cheek. you turned away, gripping the bathing pool's edge, but not before catching the way his gaze dropped to your waist where the water's surface clung.

"you’re supposed to wait for permission to enter," you mumbled, sinking deeper into the scented water.

zuko didn’t dignify that with a reply. though, he crouched at the pool’s edge. "three years married, and suddenly you’re shy" his thumb seized a droplet rolling down your shoulder. "or is it that you think I’d mind these?" his touch grazed the faint red marks along your hipbone... lighter than the lightning scars on his chest but just as permanent.

you flinched. "the fire sages say a ruler’s consort should..."

"...look like untouched porcelain... I know, I know," he finished weakly. "the same sages who called my face unfit for the throne?" he tapped your chin, forcing your gaze up to where his scar gleamed raw. "when have we ever cared for their opinion? why start now?"

you shook your head at god knows what. jasmine petals stuck to your damp collarbones as zuko shrugged out of his sleeping robe. it soon pooled at his feet. his chest was a battlefield of its own... old ridged burns interlaced with newer, pinker marks where your daughter's tiny nails had scratched him during late - night feedings.

"zuko, I..." your protest died as he soaked his body into the water, the heat making his muscles glisten.

when his knees hit the under water stone bench, zuko’s mouth found the spot beneath your ear. "be honest... which part of you thinks I’d ever stop wanting this." he cooed on damp skin, hands sliding down to grip your waist. "these hips?" a squeeze that sent water sloshing over the ledge. "this stomach?" palms skating lower, thumbs digging into the softness below your navel where your daughter had grown. "or..." his touch drowned under the waterline, testing your thighs with a passing touch of fingertips... "here?"

you gasped, hands flying to his wrists. "zuko, are you sure you don't want to wait..."

"this isn't about me," for grounding, you leanined your head against the wet tile behind you. "I've waited enough, three months, and I know you have to." his free hand squeezed your inner thigh, slow before just holding. "every night, watching you feed our daughter and pretending not to see how you wince when she latches." his fingers danced higher, avoiding where you ached most. "listening to you cry in here afterward like I wouldn’t burn the entire fire nation to the ground if it meant taking your pain."

your breath quickened. his thumb hovered just above your throbbing core, the heat of the bathwater nothing compared to the fire coiling low in your belly. "how low of you, to think I'd care about a few angry marks?" zuko whispered to your throat, a hand sliding up to cup your breast... heavy with a nurturing substance. "when every night I lie awake smelling the scent on your skin and imagining..." his fingers finally dipped between your folds, and your back laid off the tile, in an arch with a sudden gasp.

the sound echoed off walls, mixing with the drip of water from zuko's hair as he bent to lick a stripe of your neck. "we both know," fingers circling your clit, agonising and teasing, "the sages are yet to know how wet you get for me?" his teeth scraped your earlobe. "how even now, you're clenching around nothing?"

his fingers froze... a heartbeat... when your thighs tremble. It was that pause that undid you more than his touch... zuko’s breath hitched when your nails scored his shoulders... his thumb softened its circles to light strokes the instant your breathing grew ragged.

the tile was cold against your spine, but his mouth was scorching as it trailed lower... past your collarbones, over your breasts still tender from feeding your daughter hours before. he paused there, lips floating over a peaked nipple, eyes flicking up to watch you squirm. "tell me," he reassured, "if it’s too much."

you nodded violently as his tongue swirled tight around the sensitive bud, sucking gently until your hips jerked against his stomach. the whimper that escaped you sounded foreign in your own ears... desperate and keening... but zuko drank it in like a man starved. again with his free hand pacing down to grip your hip. "I got you,” he soothed to your chest as his fingers found your dripping core once more.

and gods, he did... every slow, torturous stroke of his fingers was purposeful to make you unravel by degrees. where the younger zuko, you married might have rushed, the man before you now worked with devastating patience, curling two fingers inside you just deep enough to tease before retreating to thumb lazy circles around your clit. "zuko..." you gasped.

"I know," he breathed, crooking his fingers just right. though open-mouthed kisses were placed to the stretch marks beneath your breasts, they gentled kisses whenever you hissed. his thumb never stopped its rhythm, even as he moved to cradle the back of your head with a hand. "perfect."

zuko suddenly took back his fingers... your whine at the loss tangled with the slick sound of his hand leaving you. he lifted you just enough to align himself with your dripping entrance.

"... easy," zuko asked of you. he plunged forward, the fire of him parting you slow. his forehead kissed yours as he waited, letting you adjust... always giving, even when his own thighs quivered with the effort of holding back. "is this too much..."

your nails bit into his shoulders, cutting him off. "...don't stop," you gritted, caving in to take him deeper, the stretch burning sweetly after so long apart. zuko's groan vibrated through your chest as he sank the rest of the way home, his hips greeting yours. for a second, neither of you moved... just breathed, foreheads touching.

you almost saw stars when he took it upon himself to begin moving. zuko’s breath was hot against your temple. he pulled nearly all the way out before pushing back in with the same pathetic pace. "still think I'd want anyone else?" he rumbled in the moment. he decided on deep, measured strokes that hit that spot inside you with exactly how you wanted, each resulting by the slap of water.

you couldn’t answer... couldn’t do anything but clutch at his shoulders as pleasure boiled tighter with every thrust of his hips. zuko was close in admiring your face, loving - lustful gaze.

his grip on your waist was the only float, keeping you from slipping beneath the surface. you forced your eyes open, your vision blurring with tears. zuko’s his scar flushed dark in your view. a water drip slid from his hairline down the bridge of his nose, slanting before falling onto your parted lips.

"... zuko,” you whimpered, the name broke as his thumb searched for your clit again, circles over and over. "I can’t... I’m going to..."

"I know," he smiled, so sweet second before his mouth closed onto your jaw, then neck. "let me see you."

you came undone with a cry, your body clamping around his as pleasure surged through you like wildfire. zuko’s rhythm faltered, his own release hitting him as he buried his face in your neck.

when he finally pulled back, his hands were gentle as they traced your waist, his thumbs guarding the marks there. "beautiful,” he told himself with a kiss to your collarbone before reaching for a nearby cloth to dab at the sweat beading along your brow. the tenderness in his touch made your throat tighten... he looked at you like you were still the same woman who stole his heart years ago...

the cloth fell from zuko’s fingers into the water as you caught his wrist, laying his palm flat to your stomach... "you're thinking about something, you dare not tell."

"am I?" zuko's thumb traced your navel. "funny. I thought I was worshipping."

your laugh arrived and left when he silenced it with a kiss... slow and deep, his tongue passing in, by your lips. drawing back, his lips lingered close enough to share breath. "the sages," he brought up their wicked calling, nipping at your lower lip, "never warned me about this."

"about what?"

"that their fire lord would fall to his knees for a single sigh from his wife." zuko ushered you to perch on the pool's edge, as he dipped his head lower... pushing your thighs apart on the way down...

all atla works ࿔ ✎, @starr-jazz, @champagnesbiggestproblem, @rosieposiediditagain, @vanillakirstein, tags are open...

zuko works ࿔ ✎, @mystiquevoid, @cantbesuree

[in-som-niyah]

genuinely made me cry ngl well done op

[singse]

the fire lord's council aren't too fond of you because the one time you joined in, you said that they were all incapable of critical thinking. in the nicest, most proper way with your hands neatly folded on your lap and your voice as sweet as the candy you hide in your robes' pockets.

"fire lord zuko!" one of them exclaim angrily, looking towards him. "aren't you going to scold your wife for such disrespect!?"

zuko chooses not to speak immediately because your statement is very correct and if he opens his mouth now, he'll laugh in their faces. and you know this judging by the slight but pleased smile on your lips.

"is it disrespect if there's an element of truth in it?" zuko says calmly, squashing down his amusement for the moment. "my wife, your fire lady, is a highly intelligent woman with valuable opinions and advice to offer. so i'd recommend attempting to adapt to see her point of view and according her the same respect you give me."

the council is quiet, shell-shocked and jaws dropped.

you're positively bursting with joy, having to hide your grin behind your sleeve.

zuko will tolerate a lot of things but any form of disrespect towards you is out of the question. he'll hear about it again soon enough because the council don't take such things lightly.

but defending your honour and seeing your smile shine like the sun itself makes all that more than worthy.

[weirdogirl404]

POV:

The face I make when I tell someone I like to read and they ask me what’s my favorite book but I only read fanfiction’s and X reader story’s

(LIKE DONT LOOK AT ME CRAZY BECAUSE I WANNA BE IMMERSED ( literally) IN THE STORY LIKE?) 👁️👄👁️

[the-ody-ssey]

I've recently been on the avatar side of tiktok and I've been BAWLING over this freaking comment

THE CREATIVITY??? OH MY GOOOODDD IM LITERALLY SOBBING

SERIOUS APPLAUSE TO THE ONE WHO WROTE IT

[singse]

"Where is my niece?" Iroh asks Zuko as he enters his study. He nods slightly at the attendants who bow in greeting. "There’s a new tea shop that opened in the city and I was hoping she'd accompany me."

"She may be feeding the turtle ducks," Zuko replies, reading through some documents. "And she won't be able to go with you today, she promised her afternoon and evening to me."

Iroh raises a brow, noting how Zuko's voice turned slightly childish. It reminds him of back when Zuko was young and a little possessive over the turtle ducks. He'd not allow anyone else near them, only his mother and very rarely, himself.

It's funny to see it now on an adult Zuko, who's a little—very—possessive over his wife and her time.

Iroh contemplates teasing his nephew about it.

"Oh?" He says. "But it'll only be for an hour or so and I know she's been excited to visit this place."

Zuko huffs. "I know. She's been talking about it since you told her." He sighs, lowering the paper in his hands so he can give his uncle his full attention. "You know I love that you and her are close. But let's be realistic, uncle. Your outings last longer than an hour and I probably won't see her until it's time for bed."

"I wouldn't keep her out that long."

Zuko stares at him.

"I promise!" Iroh laughs, amused by his nephew's disgruntled expression. "And you know there's a solution for this."

"And what's that?" Zuko asks, eyeing him warily.

"You can come with us."

"You know I can't," Zuko says, gesturing to all the work before him. "I have a meeting in the early afternoon followed by my counsel and—"

The doors to his study open, revealing a smiling you. Iroh smiles back, casting a glance at Zuko who immediately melts at the sight of you. Oh, he remembers what that was like—being that deeply in love.

"Hey," you greet happily, moving towards Iroh first who accepts the hug you give him. Then you're onto Zuko who stands and reaches for you, his arms locking around your waist as you lean into him, pressing a soft kiss against his scar. "How are my two favourite people doing?"

"Well," Zuko starts. "We were just—"

"—about to head out to the new tea shop that just opened," Iroh interrupts smoothly, ignoring the bewildered look on his nephew's face. "We were coming to look for you right now, actually."

"Oh really?" You ask, brightening up beautifully and turning your sunshine smile to Zuko. "You're coming with us? That's so exciting! We can spend the afternoon together."

"I—" Zuko looks towards Iroh, helpless, as his uncle grins. "I...yes, I'm coming with you."

"Wonderful!" You kiss his scar again and Zuko's melting again. "Let me just go and freshen up a little then we can go."

"We'll be here," Iroh replies, waving as you practically skip out of the room. Then he turns to Zuko. "Well, that was easy, wasn't it?"

"You've got to stop doing that," Zuko bemoans but there's an obvious upward curve to his lips.

Iroh blinks as innocently as he can.

"Doing what?"

[xqce]

zuko steams when he’s close?! 18+

"you're burning up," you whisper, fingers threading through his raven hair as he presses your back against the silk sheets.

"i know." he grits, "i can't—when i'm with you, i can't control it."

everywhere he touches, heat blooms across your skin like a flower trail. it’s not yet hot enough to be painful, but more-so intense—a delicious warmth that somehow finds it way from your skin to your core. as he pulls your clothes off, one by one, his golden eyes gleam molten, pupils blown with adoration.

"tell me if the heat’s too much, and i’ll stop.." he breathes against your collarbone, that’s when you promptly feel the first wisps of steam curl between your bodies.

your breath halts momentarily. the air around him is shimmering with heat haze, and when his mouth closes over your nipple, you gasp at the scorching warmth of his tongue. he groans against your skin, and more steam rises from his shoulders, his back, dissipating into the air above you.

"z-zuko—" your hands slides down his chest, feeling the rigid muscles, the frantic beat of his heart. his skin is slick with the beginning of sweat, temperature climbing steadily higher.

he pushes inside you in one smooth thrust that has you both crying out. the heat of him was incredible—his dick was warming you from the inside out, filling you with heat only a firebender could provide.

as much as he prides himself on it, zuko's control slips immediately. he sets a desperate pace, hips snapping against yours as he buries his cock in deep again and again. steam pours off his body in waves now, rising in thick clouds that make the air humid and heavy. droplets of condensation form on your skin, mixing with you own juices as the temperature in the room climbs exponentially.

"you feel so good," he groans, voice breaking. his hands adjust to grips your hips, pulling you into each thrust. "so perfect—i can't—"

you could barely breathe in this atmosphere. the steam surrounds you both like an intimate cocoon, and through it you could see zuko above you—face flushed, scar standing out starkly against his reddened skin, dark hair plastered to his forehead. he looks absolutely wild, yet simultaneously beautiful in his loss of control.

your hands slide up his sweat-slicked back and you felt the heat radiating from him in waves. it was like touching a living furnace, but you couldn't let go. you pull him closer, deeper, wanting all of that fire.

"i-i'm close," he warns, voice strangled. "i'm—oh, fuck—"

his rhythm becomes erratic, powerful, each thrust driving you higher, each kiss to your cervix hotter. you could feel his body temperature spiking, the approaching edge of his orgasm.

when you come, clenching tight around him, zuko's control shatters completely.

he thrusts deep one final time and goes rigid, a guttural cry tearing from his throat. the steam explodes from his body in a thick cloud, so dense you couldn't see anything beyond his large silhouette above you. the temperature spikes dramatically—the air around him scorching, his skin blazes against yours as he pulses inside you, lost completely to his release.

gradually, the steam begins to thin. zuko's body temperature drops from scorching, to merely hot, then to warm. he collapses against you, breathing hard.

"i’m sorry," he mumbles against your neck. "i really didn’t mean to—"

"don't apologize." you run your fingers through his damp hair, feeling the lingering warmth. "that was the hottest thing someone’s ever done to me during sex—literally."

he lifts his head to look at you, golden eyes still hazy with afterglow. a small smile tugs at his lips. "you're not burned, are you?"

"nope," you trace the line of his scar gently, "just hot."

zuko huffs a laugh and kisses you softly, “damn right you are.”

i’m dragging him back to the bed by his balls

[yenayaps]

Rose Garden Dreams

Pairing: FireLord!Zuko x RoyalAdvisor!Reader

Content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor. [tw: MDNI, angst/fluff/smut, apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, slowburn, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit, jealous!zuko, we’re already married in his head, found family trope(ish), zuko has daddy issues] wc: 4.7k

m.list | chapter two | chapter three | next chapter

With a gate of its own that requires special permission to enter, the western part of the palace grounds is considered to be one of the most guarded locations in the world. It’s where you can find the Fire Lord’s most precious treasures, his concubines. 

It’s also where you can find the orphanage he had built a few years ago— a decision he needed no advising on, as it was an idea of his own. There was no better place for a child. 

Zuko doesn’t expect everyone to agree with every action he makes. In fact, he encourages everyone to think for themselves. By all means, ask questions, disagree with him, show him a different perspective— allow him to serve his people. 

He is a fair man. 

However, the number of individuals that were against building the orphanage made him question just who exactly was he serving, because at that moment, he was surrounded by a bunch of fucking monsters. 

Apparently, placing children that were of low birth in the western court would’ve sent a ‘bad message’. In other words, it’d bring their value down to that of an abandoned child.

Do you know how morally bankrupt you’d have to be to think that? The entire purpose of closing off the area was to keep women and children safe, it shouldn’t matter if they’re biologically his or not. Even the strategist saw no validity in their concerns, and he’s known for rejecting proposals, for no reason other than finding joy in others' struggles. 

Needless to say, he continued with his plans.

The circumstances of one’s birth and status becomes irrelevant once they become a child of the palace. Zuko made sure of that by making an actual title out of it, all while hoping it’d be enough to appease a few nobles. 

He may have also let Aang take part and have a little fun with the drafting process. It looks ridiculous on paper— the document starts off by declaring them as the cutest members of the court— the failure to recognize them as such will result in the immediate loss of one's honor. 

Jokes aside, the document is as valid as it gets and it has been advised that it be treated as such. It’s one of the very few documents that mentions the death penalty— testing the legitimacy of it is not a game you want to play with him. 

The orphanage takes up a fair amount of space. The home itself is double the size of a high ranked concubine’s, with a decent sized vegetable garden obstructing the view of it. If some of the concubines are anything like their families, the last thing they need is the constant reminder that their chambers could be bigger. They are more than welcome to visit the children, though— many of them actually do, along with the servant girls.

And you, surprisingly.

Aside from all the planning, you never mentioned anything about the orphanage, let alone show interest in the matter. He just assumed you weren’t the maternal type, only to catch you there six months after the palace started taking in children. He then assumed you were just there to make sure everything was running smoothly. 

Wrong. 

He looked closer and the sight had him reconsidering just how much he knew you because you were clearly there to give a chubby, mindless baby a tour of the garden. You gave them a tomato to gnaw on while you pointed out all the different vegetables being grown, too. 

The conversation he had with you shortly after sounded more like an interrogation. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked at the child, then back at the lord who just awkwardly stood there like a child lost at the market, before stating the obvious. “Visiting.”

“Yeah, but… why?”

Your brows raised, “Am I not allowed to?”

“I mean— yeah. Of course you are, but—” he paused and gestured at the child, “why did you give the baby a tomato?”

“Because she wanted it,” you said, voice calm despite growing visibly frustrated with the questions. He gave you a puzzled look, because babies can’t fucking talk, and you further elaborated. “She was reaching for it and I let her have it.”

He almost asked if you were worried about the child choking, but you obviously weren’t since they couldn’t even break the skin of it. You seemed quite confident in your ability to keep the little human alive, which also took him by surprise. “Wait— so you come here a lot?”

You let out a sigh. “Yes.”

The questions stopped there. He didn’t want to offend you or discourage you from making future visits.

Zuko still doesn’t know your visiting schedule, you never tell him when you go even after he’s expressed wanting to visit with you. He thought today would be his lucky day since your visits have been longer due to Mira being there, but the gods never seem to grant his wishes no matter how simple they are. 

The next time he would see you is at the training site, speaking with your father. He was somehow able to give you and the soldiers his full attention, because he stopped talking to you for a split second to bark at one of them to fix their posture. 

He took that as his sign to leave. The strategist apparently had eyes on every side of his head and for all he knew, he’d be the next one to catch some odd form of that man’s wrath.

. . . . . .

It’s easy to forget just how big the palace is, but unfortunately for your fathers assistants, they are reminded of that fact whenever he summons you. The task is time consuming, your location changes depending on what you’re working on, and a lot of the time, you are working on multiple things at once. What’s worse is half the time you’re too busy to go see him, making their efforts all for nothing.

Today’s unlucky assistant checked every single location there was to think of before giving the west wing a try. He wasn’t a fan of the guards there, they’ve always treated him as if he were trying to break in and steal one of Lord Zuko’s concubines. 

You would’ve declined to meet your father today had his assistant not been in such rough shape. Not only was he tired, but he was also afraid thanks to the guards.

“How was your trip to Republic City?”

The question made your face momentarily drop— that’s what he wanted to ask? He could’ve written you a letter! 

“It was busy, but good, I guess. Found some volunteers for the Silk District project.” You don’t spare him the details. Ever. He’s the type to nitpick at them in hopes of catching a mistake that could be pinned on the Fire Lord. 

He raises a brow. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

“No,” you assure him. “Not at all.” 

He gives you a suspicious look before continuing. “Good— anyways, I’d like to send a few soldiers with you on your trip to the Silk District. I’ve received word that it’s only grown more violent since the incident with the brothel workers and I wouldn’t be surprised if those beasts tried to target you.”

It’s like he forgot that you tried to kill him once. He also called you a beast that day… and an evil little bitch. 

You smile. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he barks out an insulting laugh. “The Fire Lord may be a ruler, but don’t expect him to play the role of a protector, too. That man has a duty to stay alive and needs to focus on saving himself. You will have soldiers there to keep an eye on you.” 

You let out a laugh of your own, letting it die out into a silence that ends up getting dragged out past the point of comfort. “I understand your concerns. However, that is not necessary and I’m going to have to respectfully decline your offer.”

“It’s not an offer—”

“Father,” you’re calm as you cut him off with a simple warning. 

“No, listen to me—”

“I will break them beyond belief.” You casually threaten him, making it sound as if it were an event you were looking forward to. It makes the strategist quickly drop it— he’d rather not see you go through with that promise. You take a deep breath, pleased at how easy that was to settle, and move on as if you didn’t just threaten his men. “I am fully capable of protecting myself and will be just fine without soldiers. So please, don’t worry about me.” 

You don’t know what kind of nonsense that old man’s head is filled with. He knows you're strong enough to protect yourself, he also knows you would never count on anyone to save you, and yet he still does… that. 

Sending people after you, demanding your presence, making you accept his help.

He was worse when you were a child, there was a point in time where his control reached even the simplest parts of your life. But that wasn’t the part that infuriated you, it was the part where he’d say you had everything. 

You couldn’t even let your mind wander without being interrogated over what thoughts were in your head. 

You spent your entire childhood yearning for the freedom of adulthood, only to have it ripped away while reading an acceptance letter from the most elite subdivision in the military. To be accepted into a program was considered to be the highest honor. Yet, it was just another reminder of all the choices that you never had— it wasn’t even you that applied. 

Your memory of what happened afterwards is vague. You just remember showing your father what an elite soldier looked like and the experience was enough to send him into a full-blown crisis. It left him panicking over just what kind of punishment was awaiting him after death— he was certain he’d have to answer to someone for giving the world nothing but evil children.

Needless to say, he didn’t push you to go to that program. You were going to be the next head of the clan regardless, which shows you’d done enough. 

The thought of you training for another few years was also deeply unsettling. 

Your father has toned down since then, but there’s moments when he reverts back to the man that raised you. He still wants you to join the military, except this time around he wants you to work for him and be his replacement once he retires, just as he was for his father. He never takes no for an answer, either, and will continue to bring it up. You understand the role of an advisor doesn’t last forever, but that doesn’t mean your time as one is coming to an end soon. 

The constant pursuit of control is an exhausting one. It’s become a sad sight over the years, one that makes it hard to stay angry with him. 

It’d be nice to watch him take a break for once. 

Unlike your fathers assistants, you don’t have to mindlessly search for the lord. There are currently no meetings, which means he’s either in his office or his personal courtyard. 

Hopefully he’s in his office, you’re least likely to be met with an unwelcome surprise there. 

The courtyard isn’t that bad— it’s what his courtyard leads to: his chambers. Aside from the times he’s requested your presence, it’s a place you’ve learned to heed with extreme caution. 

It doesn’t get easier with time. The moment you’re met with an empty office, you’re already cursing to yourself and begging the gods that he’s clothed today. Seeing the lord naked once is already far too much and it’s already happened a handful of times throughout the years.

There is a reason why fights break out so often between concubines. It’s the same reason why Zuko laughed when that man assumed he had a small dick, and it has nothing to do with his personality. 

Getting the image out of your head is a task on its own and has driven you nuts at times. It’s as stubborn as the lord himself, lingering around and refusing to fucking leave. 

You soon find yourself at the entrance of his chambers, nervous as you are frustrated that he refuses to get a door. His reasoning for covering the entrance with curtains is because he enjoys the extra airflow. There’s apparently also no need for a door when he already has one at the entrance of his courtyard. Which is idiotic, in your opinion, he never hears when you knock. 

You make your presence known by calling out to him. No answer. You pull the curtain aside ever so slightly and take a peek. No idiotic lord in sight. 

You prepare for the worst. The first step is taken and you call out to him again, this time it’s more of a warning. Your footsteps echo throughout the dim space, and with each second that passes, you find yourself feeling more and more like an intruder. 

This really is the worst job sometimes. 

You call his name, again. Nothing. Your eyes land on the hallway leading to his bedroom and the doors wide open. If he were in there, he would’ve come out by now. 

He’s not here.

The conclusion brings a sigh of relief as you move on with your thoughts. There’s one other place he could be and that’s the western court, which leaves you torn. If he’s with a concubine, then that means you can take the rest of the day off. It’s getting later in the afternoon though and you’d rather not end up with more work tomorrow just because you made that assumption. 

You turn on your heel and begin to walk out, too lost in thought to pay much attention to what’s in front of you. It’s not until you’re just steps away from the entrance when you're startled by a figure blocking it. 

Startled may be an understatement. You let out this quick, blood curdling scream that left your throat raw afterwards. 

You’re dying inside from the embarrassment and Zuko thinks it’s fucking hilarious. 

“What kind of an intruder gets frightened like that?”

Your heart’s still pounding against your chest from the initial fear, making it difficult to answer back, let alone argue. “I was just— I’ve been trying to look for you— god I fucking hate you— you been standing here this whole time and you couldn’t even say anything?” 

"It’s not like I was hiding.” His grin widens. “I expected you to be a little more aware of your surroundings.” 

“Yeah? Well not everyone’s used to living in a cave,” you say bitterly, finally looking back at him again. “Sorry I’m not used to the darkness.”

He dressed down in training pants and a tunic, but clothed nonetheless. He must’ve been getting some training in since his hair’s up, too. 

“I thought you only trained in the mornings?” 

He crosses his arms and leans against the entryway, then shrugs. “The afternoon’s nice sometimes when it's quiet. One of the servants told me you were looking for me on the way there— you alright?”

“I’m wonderful.”  You weren’t sure what kind of an answer he was expecting— he asked as if that wasn’t your job to look for him. “Was there anything that needed to be finished before the day ended?” 

He hums and thinks about it, then shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, giving him a skeptical look. 

“Positive.” 

“I don’t believe you.” There’s a tinge of defeat in your tone and the little smile he gives tells you he’s in that little mood to fuck with you. “Zuko, I’m serious— I don’t want to have more work for tomorrow.”

Oh, wow. You’re actually saying his name. 

He lets out this warm, airy laugh, further making a mockery of your suffering. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to!”

“No,” he laughter dies into a low hum. “You’re all done for the day. Promise.” 

You just stare at him for a moment. It’s not that you don’t believe him, you do. He’s just a pest and you can’t believe he’s in charge of millions of people sometimes. 

“You should come train with me— I think it might help with whatever you got bottled up right now,” he casually offers.

“You scared me senseless and then you made me go around in circles trying to get an answer,” you slowly spell it out for him, not realizing it only fills his chest with a sick sense of pride. “This is because of you.”

“And now you can get revenge” he gives the solution easily, making it sound like the opportunity of a lifetime. “You won’t have to hold back on me, either. It’s probably been a while since you got to spar with someone without worrying about killing them.”

A smile manages to break through as you prepare to shut him down, yet words come out surprisingly sincere. “It pains me to say this, but I’m not sparring with someone as important as you.” 

“That’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me, you know that?” he manages to get a little remark in right before you start listing reasons why.

“Aside from Uncle Iroh, you’re pretty all alone. There is no one next in line, not even a child— that you could’ve had by now, by the way.”

“Yes, I could’ve had multiple,” he comments in amusement. 

“You have multiple meetings a week and they’re all with important people, too. Their job is to notice what’s wrong, especially when it comes to you. Any concerns they have, whether it be a scratch or bruise, can be made into a problem.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re afraid to hurt me?” he asks, words dripping from his lips like warm honey.

You’d think he’d be offended or maybe even start to make fun of you for thinking that, and you’re getting neither. He’s more flattered than anything right now. 

“I would love to.” you coldly break it to him, then go on to say a bunch of things that you hope he doesn’t make fun of you for. “But it’s you who puts on the Fire Lord’s crown everyday and people are safe now because of that— they get to live their lives in peace. Even if it were something light, I’m not going to spar with someone who has a title that actually means something. It’s not like I enjoy bending that much, anyway.”

Zuko finds himself completely still as he takes your words in— not tense, nor shocked, just processing them.

He thought you were kidding when you said he was too important. 

It’s not like his title was something you overlooked. He’s never even had to wonder if you approved of having him as the nation’s ruler. You’ve worked with him for years— of course he had your approval, of course you thought he was competent. He just never expected you to hold him in such high regard as the Fire Lord.

Taking responsibility for his family’s crimes has been nothing short of rewarding, but with it comes a certain guilt whenever he sat on that throne— it makes him wonder if it was time to shed some of that weight.

“Thank you.” His words come out tender, eyes golden and filled with awe. He’d like to say more, but something tells him that your words haven’t caught up to you yet, and so he clears his throat and moves on. “So what’s this about never having liked bending?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t really like fighting. All the running and jumping around is tiring” You murmur, just the thought of it makes you look miserable. “I only went to training because I had to.” 

“I’m sorry about that,” he hums, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t around for a good chunk of time, but he’s heard about how brutal that training was— all the fainting and bloody noses due to exhaustion. “Are you happy now, at least?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re family was set on turning you into a fucking killing machine,” he huffs out a laugh, still surprised that you hated fighting this entire time. “Are you happy with where you ended up instead?” 

“Mmm— yeah.” You pause and Zuko waits for the complaint. “It’d be nice if you made my job easier though and just answered my questions with a simple yes or no.”

“You know I like messing with you,” he murmurs, poking the tip of your nose and earning himself a little glare. “Makes my day a lot more fun.” 

“I am not your jester.” You try to say it with a straight face, only for you both to end up having to suppress a laugh, then remember what you came here for just shortly after. “I guess I should get going then since there’s no more work for today.” 

“Yeah— easy day.” He wishes you wouldn’t go right now. “…Are you returning to the north wing?”

That’s where your chambers are, on the complete opposite side of the palace grounds.

“Mhm,” you nod, shifting your stance— you can’t actually leave, he’s blocking the door. 

“Your chambers are up to standard, right?” He doesn’t move, he knows exactly what he’s doing. “I remember you complaining about them once.”

“That was two years ago,” you kindly remind him, his ability to remember such a small detail leaving you slightly concerned. You only complained about a creaky cabinet. “But, nope. I’m very cozy there.”  

“Can I see?” 

“No,” you say as politely as possible. “Any other questions?” 

He gives a contemplative hum— the longer it goes on the more concerned you grow. It’s not like you can leave since he hasn’t moved, so you’re forced to stand and wait. 

Now he’s tilting his head and studying your face. 

“Do you plan on ever asking anything?” 

“I was still thinking about it. But since you’re in a rush right now, sure.” The fabric of his shirt stretches over his biceps as he crosses his arms, eyes lazily trail down to your lips. “Let me kiss you again.”

You let out a long sigh as you start to murmur to yourself. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not,” his brows furrow with the defensive response. “Just one.” 

“Why?”

“I find it unfair that we both share the same experience, yet be in two different states of being— I was drunk.” It’s a pathetic excuse, one he just came up with.

“That’s your fault.” You almost mentioned the fact that he basically jumped on you and you had no idea about, but decided against it out of fear that it’d create an entire argument.  “Besides, I was tipsy, too.”

“I still think you should let me kiss you,” he persists.

“Of course you do.” 

“Can I?” 

“You are a pest,” you murmur to yourself once again. “Would you like me to escort you to one of your concubines?” 

“No, thanks,” he curtly says, before thinking again. “C’mon, I gave you a baby—“

You cut him off, because he did not— Mira is a child of the palace. “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Alright, fine, sorry.” He lazily holds his hands out in defense. “It’s really easy if you close your eyes, by the way.”

“You're full of shit.” 

“I am a man that would like a simple kiss.” 

You look at him, then the entrance he’s blocking, then back at him again. 

Zuko notices and smiles. “One kiss and you shall be released.” 

You were right, he was blocking the door on purpose. Bastard. It takes you a moment to even take his wishes into consideration. It probably won’t be awkward afterward since it’s happened before, but then that opens the door to him asking again. 

You look at him and he’s never looked more smackable with how unapologetic he is about it all. 

“You’ll let me go after?” 

“Mhm.” 

You take more time to respond, clearly struggling with the idea of allowing something like this to happen. A part of you wants to make a run for it, but you also don’t want to find out if he’d actually catch you. 

“Alright, fine,” you quietly say, already growing nervous from the grin that pulls out of him. 

“Don’t look so scared,” he hums as he starts walking closer. 

His words pull a slight frown from you. “It’s hard not to when you say it like that.”

He stops right in front of you and gently lifts your chin to look at him. “Like what?”

“That.” There’s less of a bite in your tone, he’s more intimidating when he’s this close. “Don’t make this any harder for me.” 

He rubs his thumb over your chin, giving you a sympathetic look. “I like it when you’re sweet like this.”

Just moments later, both of hands are cupping your jaw and he’s leaning forward. 

His lips are soft. 

They’re not crashing into you this time and you can’t help but think about how they’re pressed against you so gently. Even with the way he takes his dear time, everything feels so light, it’s easy to breathe. 

Slowly, he pulls away and you’re met with heavy lidded eyes. His hands are still cupped around your jaw, you’re not sure if you want them to pull away just yet. 

His thumbs rub over your cheeks. “Would you be mad about one more?” 

You know you should pull away, the disappointment for not doing so comes out in your voice. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

“I know,” he murmurs, nose brushing against yours before pressing another kiss against your lips. “I’ll leave you alone after this.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

His only response was another kiss. It starts off like the first, but becomes more familiar. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you in and deepening it, until the faint sounds of your lips parting and moving with his could be heard. 

By the time he pulls away, you’re both slightly out of breath, and you’re wondering if this is where the line should be drawn.

Zuko’s thinking the exact opposite. “Still think we shouldn’t be doing this?” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this at all,” you let out a small laugh. 

His hold on you is firm and when you fail to turn your face away, he looks at you in amusement. “Why are you laughing then?” 

“Because I was supposed to leave after the first one.” 

“Sorry about that.” He smiles and presses a kiss against your temple. “You’re allowed to admit that you’re liking this, by the way.”

“I’m not doing that,” you say, words stubborn and final. 

And Zuko laughs because you wouldn’t have the privilege to come up with such an answer if you were in another scenario. You’d be admitting to all kinds of things if he could have his way with you. 

He of course doesn’t say that, being the gentleman that he is. “You’re a very cruel woman, you know that?”

You press your finger into his chest. “And you are a very selfish man.” 

Which probably wasn’t a very good idea, the poking and the name calling. It seems to have put an inappropriate thought in his head given the groan he had to suppress. 

“I am a very selfish man,” he says in a dangerously low tone. 

And then his lips are on yours because for years he’s been deprived of one of the most simple joys in life: touching a woman he likes. 

So he touches you gently. He kisses you deeply. He has been fucking starving, but he savors you completely.

Until there’s metal crashing down on the floor, followed by a yelp that makes you push him away, hard. The servant’s apologizing profusely for dropping the platter that was carrying his tea and for intruding.

Then she scatters away, ashamed and embarrassed. She was under the impression that all of the Fire Lord’s intimate encounters took place in the chambers of his concubines. She was also under the impression that he only had intimate encounters with his concubines.

Which is correct. It’s also why you take off running after her. If the details of what she had just encountered began to spread, you are fucked.

notes: god i need him so fucking bad i just know he'd talk u through it wait im the writer HE DOES talk u through it

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[yummydummyangel]

Put me in a headlock puhhheasddedded daddy

[amortoru-deactivated20260523]

`ঔঌ. never did you expect, in all your years married, for your husband, firelord!zuko to have a breeding kink? | 18+

the supporting council of the fire nation, and even several of zuko’s advisors have been adamant on one thing since your marriage to your childhood lover: producing an heir.

“yes… i know. even my ladies in waiting are asking,” you replied. the both of you were in his study, with you lounging on some cushions while he clearly was distracted from his paperwork considering the turn your conversation went.

zuko appeared hesitant, almost antsy. “really? they’re a bit annoying, aren’t they?”

you shrugged, until you just kept talking mindlessly. “it’d be nice though…wouldn’t it?”

your words made your husband furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “what would?”

“having children?” you walked over to him, sitting on his lap as his arms snaked around your waist and held you. “being pregnant…”

“you’d be a great daddy… so why don’t we try?”

“really?” his tone changed, almost laced with a bit of amusement. “are…are you sure?”

“why not?” you leaned towards him and you swore you saw the tips of his ears go red and his face slightly appear flushed.

it was a clear fact that your husband was a fast man, but before you knew it, you were naked before him, warm skin pressed against his cold desk, quills, ink, and paper scattered. he had undressed you quickly—as if you were going to run away.

“you’re sure about this?” zuko asked, beginning to align his cock to your entrance the moment you nodded, and rubbing your arousal around his length before slowly pushing in.

fuck, you really should’ve taken to account just how your husband is… because when he’s serious about something, he’s dead serious.

“mmm—zuko-! please—fuck!”

you felt almost lightheaded, with your cunt squeezing your husband’s cock almost uncontrollably while your clit throbbed immensely. the two of you have been at it for hours, going at it like damn rabbits all over his study. on the desk, the cushions, against the wall. and now? you’re riding him while he’s sat on his chair.

“you—hahhh—said you were sure,” he replied, hands squeezing at your ass and slapping it teasingly.

you could feel his loads of cum spill out of you with every harsh thrust of his hips, with your husband groaning loudly from how tight you felt around him.

it was all too much—so. damn. much. he fucks you so mean…

your arms around his neck only tightened around him the faster you went, pulling on his long hair slightly and eliciting a whine? from your husband.

“you’re gonna—shit—look so damn pretty… so fucking pretty pregnant…” he gazed up at you, almost intoxicated with how you looked riding him, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock while you whined so cutely. your maw was slack while your eyes were glued to the ceiling, and your grip on his hair only tightened (again).

until the two of you heard a knock on the door, and he covered your mouth quickly.

“fire lord zuko, your presence is requested—“

“i’m busy.”

zuko’s hips continued, slower yet still so torturous on you. he bounced you slowly yet harshly, slamming you on his cock. then came that obnoxiously loud squelch! you could cry of embarrassment… but it seemed that your lover was enjoying this.

“w-what was that?” the advisor asked.

and it wasn’t until zuko lifted your hips and slammed you onto him one last time, where you cried out in a octave you’ve never hit ever.

“gotta make sure we have that heir, right?”

.

.

.

had to… i just had to… #leastcanonthingever anyways IM CRINE THIS IS SO OOC BUT ITS OK!! also wtf is it with me and zuko smut in his firelord study

hai mai lob @yailuxe <33

also more zuko i’ve written (prepare to get sick of me)

first full-length zuko oneshot hehehe………..