NOTE. Implied that reader and Zuko are engaged, and reader is a woman in this one!
“Relax,” you whispered, nudging his side. “You’re clenching your jaw.”
“I’m not,” he muttered, though he immediately loosened it. “People are staring.”
“They’re always staring,” you said breezily. “But right now they’re more interested in the fresh chili sesame buns over there, I promise.”
Zuko glanced over and saw a baker pulling golden, round buns from a clay oven, steam curling in the last golden slants of sunlight. His stomach made a small, treacherous sound.
You grinned. “Hungry?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m managing,” he corrected.
You were already pulling him toward the stall, the ring on your finger cool against his arm. The sensation sends a small flutter to his chest, like a butterfly occupying the space without rent. “You’re getting a bun.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but you had already waved at the vendor. “Hi, Auntie Yin! Two sesame buns, please—and an extra one with chili if they’re still warm?”
The older woman squinted, then lit up with recognition. “[Name], you’re back! And you brought your prince again.”
Auntie Yin's husband cleared his throat. “Isn’t it Firelord, technically—”
“Pfft,” Auntie Mei waved him off with a flour-dusted hand. “Not when you’re standing in my bread line, young man.”
You laughed, leaning into Zuko as you accepted the little bundle of warm bread. “You see why I come back here?”
Just as he was about to hand in some coins, you had stopped his hand mid-way. He looked at you with a small pout, definitely confused.
“Zuko, no.”
“But—“
“We’re going to fight over this, so no.”
“I don’t like arguing with you,” he murmurs.
You pat his hand solemnly. “I know,” you say. “So I’m paying. End of story.”
He didn’t answer anything else until you raised the bun for him to take the first bite. It was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery in the middle, with little black sesame seeds clinging to his lips, the spice just right to not overpower the actual buttery taste. He closed his eyes briefly.
“I remember this,” he said. “I used to sneak out with my uncle, and we’d get these. He used to say—” His voice caught slightly, swallowing with a pleased nod. “—he used to say the best food in the Fire Nation was always on the street, never behind palace walls.”
Your smile softened.
“He was right.”
You wandered deeper into the market, weaving between stalls draped with silks, lanterns, and every kind of fried thing imaginable. People bumped into each other without apology, children shouted as they chased each other with little wooden dragons, and somewhere nearby, a flute player added a gentle melody to the thick scent of roasted peanuts and smoke.
Zuko tilted his head slightly. “You know all of them.”
You shrugged. “Grew up here. Before my family moved to the coast, we lived two blocks down.”
“Wait, really?”
“Mhm. That stall with the yellow lanterns? That used to be where I bought pickled plums on my way home from school. And that guy—” you pointed to a tall man flipping meat over a roaring fire—“used to give me extra sticks if I said please and didn’t rat him out to his wife for snacking while he cooked. Kind guy, really. Just had a habit of snacking, not that I can blame him because they're really good.”
Zuko looked at you with something like awe. “You never told me any of this.”
“I like keeping some mystery,” you teased, passing him a skewer of fire-grilled mushrooms glistening with glaze. “Try this one. You used to like mushrooms, right?”
“I still like mushrooms.”
“Then don’t make that face and eat it.”
He bit into it, reluctantly. The glaze was spicy, sweet, and smoky all at once. He blinked. “Okay, fine. That’s—really good.”
“Told you.”
You two kept walking, you pausing every so often to wave or chat or haggle for something small—an herbal tea, a dumpling wrapped in banana leaf, or dried fruit you tucked into the folds of your sleeve for later. Zuko stayed mostly quiet, watching you, feeling the tension in his chest unwind inch by inch. Your laugh was infectious, the kind that made other people smile without realizing it. More than once, he found himself smiling too, caught off guard by the sound.
At one point, you dragged him over to a table surrounded by children and old men playing tile games.
“[Name], my girl!” one of them called, holding up a tile. “Still cheating at dragon tiles?”
“Only when you let me win,” you said with a wink.
Zuko stood beside you, bemused. “You’ve played dragon tile in public?”
“She won in public,” one of the elders cackled. “Took my whole snack allowance for the week.”
You handed over a few coins with a mock-guilty face. “Here, I owe you for that.”
“Isn’t there a law that states it’s illegal to play mahjong in public?”
...
"I don't know, is there?"
Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, you had already been ushering Zuko to the next stop. “You’ve been in more street fights than I have.”
“You’d be surprised what people will bet when they think a girl in ribbons doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“I think I married a con artist.”
You gave him a pleased smile. “Took you this long to figure that out?”
You rounded a quieter corner of the market as the last of the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Lanterns glowed in the gathering dusk, and music trickled through the air. You led him to a little bench tucked between two carts, one selling sticky rice and the other spiced nuts. You flopped down with a sigh, tugging him beside you.
For a while, you two just sat.
Zuko leaned back, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze.
“This was… good.”
You bumped your shoulder against his. “You don’t always have to be Firelord, you know.”
“I kind of do,” he said, but it was quiet.
“You kind of don’t. Not with me, at least.”
He turned to look at you. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I missed this kind of quiet.”
You hummed. “That’s what I’m here for. To remind you.”
Zuko hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers together, his finger idly playing with the ring on yours. It's nice, he thinks, just being with you like this. The market was bustling around you, but for a moment, it all faded—just a man and his beloved, full of street food and soft lantern light, sharing a bench and a memory and the kind of peace he was still learning to let himself have.
Cooley note: training with your boyfriend who's way to distracted by your body (Sokka x Male!reader)
You watch Sokka charge at you, shouting a Southern Water Tribe battle cry. You could only smirk and dodge his sword, swiftly turning your opponent's blade against him. Taking your sword and swiftly knocking his own out of his hand, you twisted your body around like you were ready to cut him down, then you stopped right at his neck, dropping your blade on the ground.
"One for the Earth Kingdom and zero for the Water Tribe, and the crowd goes wild!" You pretend there's a fake crowd chanting your name. Then suddenly—THWAK!
"Oh yeah? Let's see if you can handle a tussle, little prince!" Sokka tackled you to the ground. Usually after a sparring loss, he gets sulky and you'll have to cheer him up, but ever since you started boasting after every win, his competitive side is starting to flare more like an angry cabbage farmer.
"Hey, that's not fair! This is sword fighting day!"
"Oh yeah? Says who?" Sokka laughs in your face as the both of you wrestle, trying to get a one-up on the other. Then he had you pinned down to the ground, him atop his first win in a while. But before your beloved could rub it in your face, he stared down at you, mesmerized. Your shirt had ridden up, showing those perfect muscles of yours, the ones only a prince can have. The dazed look in your eyes, as if you were waiting for something. The way your cheeks flushed a small pink that could only be noticed by him.
"That was humiliating..." you grumbled. You hated being on your back like this, showing this kind of submission to anyone. It would leave you a mess, especially to him.
"Humiliating? Hmm, more like cute, handsome, and under me," Sokka chuckles, getting closer to you. "How am I gonna take my win when you look like, well... this?"
You frowned, eyes averting his. "That wasn't a fair win..."
Sokka sighs, rolling his eyes. "Only a prince would think of good sportsmanship when he's like this." He leans even closer till you're both chest to chest, your warm breaths mingling. "Let me take this win, pretty prince." And a warm kiss gets pressed to your lips.
Of course, you would go to a trusted water bender to discuss the scrolls you found.
Warning: Suggestive themes
From your letters, Katara could tell that you had found something important related to water benders deep within the Fire Archives. Katara and you had a sisterhood only trauma and late sake nights between two water benders could have. Stress from their lives vanished as they relaxed with each other, hair unbound.
She loves the hidden scrolls you shared with her, as the fire nation confiscated them throughout the war. They were quite informative about other ways to use water bending. This time when you arrived, the smile on your face had Katara taken aback. Your smile meant mischief, and she hoped at someone else’s expense.
Both of you sit in her private tearoom at the Air Temple next to Republic City. You told her that hot tea for this conversation wouldn’t be a good idea. She brings a pitcher of cold water instead, eyeing you warily. “Did you find more sex education scrolls? The last time I couldn’t eat cantomelon for a week,” Katara huffed, remembering every time Aang ate in front of her, a cold stutter wracked her body.
“Yes and no. These involve water benders before the war. Noble families had hard times conceiving before Sozin. Here, look at the scrolls, the diagrams.” You unrolled a scroll and watched Katara’s face. From concentration to shock, then to embarrassment. Feeling your own face warm up when she covers her mouth, knowing where she was.
“Oh my, four times?!” she exclaimed, fanning her face, now understanding not having hot tea for this conversation.
“For the unhealthy ones, I recall both of our husbands are very healthy and fit.” You utter this coyly, your smile returning. You knew Katara would get her husband into that position.
“Why (y/n)?” Katara says, still looking at the particular diagram.
“Several reasons. I trust you to use this information to add to the healing breakthroughs from water benders. Update the water tribe’s archives, but those prudes would probably get rid of them. I have copies in case they do. And-” you hold your cup tight, the cold water becomes ice. “The fire elders are getting annoying. Zuko and I have been married for a couple of weeks and they are getting worse with their demands. You’ve checked us and so have the fire healers; nothing is wrong but I’m one sly comment on him getting a concubine before I create a new war crime. "
“No,” Katara says with a playful tone but with firm weight. “Let’s not create another diplomatic crisis. How can I help…from afar? I would rather not hear you two again if I can help it.” Katara offers for the sake of her husband’s dignity. Your earlier smile returns, now with wicked amusement sparkling in your gaze.
From a distance, Zuko experienced a chilling sensation.
Little dabble to work up the courage to actually write smut with Zuko.
— i'm picturing firelord zuko after having his way with his pretty wife (you) all night , panting and sweaty bodies cling onto another. The cozy blanket covering half of his naked body , firelord zuko who lights his cigarette with the tip of his finger.
microdrabble zutara fic that my darlingest @sunjaesol and dearest @bluefirewrites encouraged me to post here.
post-canon! <3
~.~
She’s on the docks, a couple of weeks after he is crowned the Fire Lord, standing across from him with the sea wind blowing through her hair, and he almost asks her to stay.
“Is it okay if I write to you?” She asks him, and he feels something chip; a piece of bone from his ribs, a fantasy from his collection of hopes. Once Katara leaves, this will be real. This will be different. He’s supposed to do this on his own – but now that he’s learned the merits of teamwork, the idea of running a country without the help of the Avatar’s crew makes him want to throw up.
“Only if you’re okay with me writing back,” he tells her. He wants to throw up.
Katara would never turn her back on someone who needs her – would she stay if he needed her help to run a country? Would she stay if he needed her input to begin rebuilding what his father demolished?
He could never ask her any of that.
Firstly, because he really just wants. He wants her. He wants her partnership, her input, her presence. He wants her approval in how he fixes things.
(But Katara doesn’t serve wants, he knows. She doesn’t serve anybody.)
Secondly, because he does not want to be the one to trap her in an illusion of choice. If she wanted to stay, he would accommodate her every wish and pray that she’d still be around each morning when he woke up; but he would never request for her to stay in the country that she spent years of her childhood hating, and he would never interfere with the future that he knows she’s going to build for herself.
She laughs at his comeback, he almost asks her to stay, she gently wraps her arms around him in a tight hug and he genuinely thinks this might be the last time that he sees her.
Please come back.
“Thank you, Katara,” he whispers into her hair instead.
He pretends that she holds him tighter after that – but he’s pretty sure that it was him that pulled her closer instead.
@lupanaoflaminar || thanks for the suggestion! apologies for the delay. enjoy!
aang notices a change in the dynamic between zuko and katara.
how does he notice this shift?
appa detects that dramatic shift first--nudging him and pointing out how much closer and intimate they've gotten. from exchanging little whispers, maybe sweet nothings for all that aang knows, or stealing glances when they can. it must cease in aang's world, because he does see katara first and that means she's his turf, thank you very much.
appa disagrees.
never does he feel more betrayed, but if there's anyone's judgment aang trusts more than anyone's, it's appa's. so he knows when to wave that little white flag in the realm of his disastrous excuse for a love life. katara seems interested in zuko, as much as she vehemently denies it to his face.
appa knows better; now aang knows better.
it's another evening of watching those two fumble around each other like imbeciles. ok zuko's the imbecile, especially for weasling his way into her radar like this; katara's the smartest, prettiest, most powerful girl in the world in aang's eyes (though her interest in zuko has him reconsidering that judgment). appa adjusts his position where he is by aang and yawns, just before taking action.
zuko and katara choose to sit next to each other by the fire, but there's a healthy distance between them. something aang appreciates, but apparently appa has other plans. zuko relaxes his posture, tension releasing from his body and feeling at peace in katara's presence. aang continues to glower like a jealous partner. that's just like aang always feels around her. zuko does seem to want to make a move but is petrified about proceeding. firelord title aside, he's just like any other awkward teenager working through complicated emotions like feelings for a girl near and dear to him.
aang tries to ignore the jealousy pooling in his gut. really, he does. he's given the time to back COMPLETELY off. he knows katara doesn't belong to anyone, and she can be with whoever makes her happy. if zuko makes her happy, then that's that. appa has a great judge of character after all and zuko is still his dearest friend above all else.
while katara's attending to some strands of hair that have gone astray from the humidity, zuko admires her with the most soft affection glimmering in his amber eyes. it makes aang sick to his stomach. that's how AANG always looks at katara . . .
he catches zuko glancing at her every now and then, and almost tries to reach his hand out to her, but retracts at the last minute. he's probably groaning to himself, and appa, as fed up with these antics as he is, nudges zuko hard by the shoulder and now he's barely centimeters from smelling katara's freshly washed hair.
"s-sorry! sorry. don't know what got over appa and i uhhhh -- am i invading your personal space?"
katara glances up at him with a puzzled expression before shaking her head with a smile.
"not at all zuko." in fact to zuko's delight and aang's disapproval she scoots into him, practically in his lap. "is that better?"
"i, uh, yes! of course," zuko stammers. appa groans before returning to aang's side, pleased with his role of zuko's personal wingman.
"you know you're supposed to be on my side," aang whispers. "but i guess it's just not meant to be with us."
appa grunts in response, as if to affirm what aang said is true.
inspired by: ❝ wake me ❞ \\ by bleachers
( honorary tag;; @honorforged )
______________________________
right from the start I knew,
you'd set a fire in me.
& I'd rather be sad with you,
than anywhere away from you...
Destined for another sleepless night, it was the fourth time in a week Mai’s mind refused to grant her any reprieve as day to day stresses ran together into waking night terrors of listless anxiety like the beautiful fading colors of sunset bleeding into the jet black ink of night. Restlessness; it was an ailment for which she had no cure and felt helplessly out of her depth for how to categorize and compartmentalize like most extremities of her emotions. She knew she made for a poor bedfellow on nights like these, tossing and turning while twisting up the sheets between them; it was a wonder Zuko ever got any restful sleep when her own mind refused to grant her any serenity or peace of her own.
I can't believe I captured your heart.
She’d taken to sitting out on the balcony adjoining their bedroom to take in the tranquility of the night sky, but the expansive endlessness only seemed to widen her worries without providing the consolation of any answers to her fears. They were fears, worries and insecurities she kept abreast; secret by some but withholding by her own clever standards. Zuko already had enough on his plate she could never bring herself to add to the weight on his shoulders nor could either of them seem to find the time alone together since the wedding ceremony and subsequent celebrations. Even trying to roam the palace corridors for late night walks alone couldn’t release her from the trail of haunting shadows that followed hot on her heels. Then again, no one was ever really alone among the fortified walls of the palace and it only made Mai feel like she was under that much more scrutiny.
stake my life on it.
if somebody's gonna quit,
then I'd rather be sad with you,
than with any other girls but you...
Tonight however, she hadn’t bothered to make an escape attempt. Zuko was sleeping too soundly for her to risk waking him with any more movement and he always seemed to be aware of her absence even in half-consciousness. He was working too hard without giving himself enough of a break, tirelessly and passionately enacting all the changes he wanted to see in the world as if could solve the world’s problems in a day. The warmth of his body so close to hers radiated in waves, the only comfort she found as the early morning hours dwindled on and a familiar aching loneliness sank deeper into her chest. An all-consuming sadness entwined with her inability to quiet her mind and it was a feeling she’d shared and hosted for a large part of her life. Despite Zuko sleeping an arm’s reach away from her, he felt as far away as if he’d traveled to another land. They were both being pulled in too many directions, worn too thin and as of late it seemed they only reconnected long enough to wash up at the end of a long day before one or the other collapsed into bed.
I can't believe I captured your heart.
if you're lonely lonely lonely wake me...
Rolling onto her side with a delicate hand folded up under her cheek, Mai took in the peaceful sight of her husband sleeping without the worries of his position or weight he insisted on carrying alone creasing his young features. In sleep there was silence for him, quiet he’d been searching for his whole life and one Iroh had tried to teach him when the rest of the chaos of their world was too loud. A soft smile appeared on her plus lips, unable to help herself as she reached out with her free hand to brush a tuft of messy hair from Zuko’s forehead and let the coolness of her touch against his skin linger there.
if you’re lonely lonely lonely wake me,
if you’re lonely lonely lonely wake me…
As if all of a sudden, Mai could no longer stand what little physical distance remained between them. Untwisting the covers from between her legs, she shimmied closer in against Zuko’s side as she draped an arm across his bare torso and the other continuing to brush through his hair gently and rhythmically. “Zu…” She cooed softly, a hoarse whisper meant only for his ears and the stars still gleaming and shimmering from outside the open balcony doors. Mai softly draped one of her bare legs overtop of his, making herself more comfortable between the sprawl of his legs as her body continued to meld into one form with his as she propped herself up on one elbow with just her lips hovering dangerously close to his ear.
“Wake up my love…” She whispered again, a little more insistent this time with an urgency sure to wake any man from slumber. As if to reiterate the full weight of her intentions, Mai leaned in and delivered a kiss to the side of his head before nuzzling her nose against his temple in a further attempt to rouse him.
“If I’m lonely… wake you.” She repeated his own words back to him, a promise he’d given her and one they’d agreed upon together as a single equal partnership. With a little more deviousness she knew would chase away the last remnants of sleep, Mai’s fingers drifted lower to the pulse at his neck and dragged her sharp fingernails delicately across the exposed skin as she ducked in again to suckle his earlobe between her lips at first before nipping gently with her teeth.
Katara squirms on the ship, the events of the air temple still fresh in her mind. The crew all avoid her but at least Zuko and Iroh attempt to be civil, even if disappointment is evident in their eyes. Toph scoffs at her when they cross paths and Ty-Lee glares daggers at her whenever she walks by, standing in front of Aang as if to protect him from Katara. Even Sokka is ignoring her and every time he does, she remembers how hurt he was when she yelled at him.
It's then that a terrible realization hits her: she's standing on a ship where everyone, including the Fire Nation soldiers, members of Fire Nation royalty, the Avatar himself, and even her brother- all of them think that she's the monster
