adult zuko x reader nsfw | smut | minors dni. | wc: 2,3k
summary: in which adult zuko worships his overwhelmed wife on the fire nation throne because words alone aren’t enough.
content: fire lord adult!zuko x fire lady reader, explicit sexual content [throne room spice!], praise, comfort.
note: it’s just a little something but i hope you like it, not proofread tho we die like men.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The throne room of the Fire Nation palace glowed beneath the amber blaze of ornate fire sconces, their flames licking along the walls and casting restless shadows across polished obsidian. At the center of the vast chamber, elevated atop a dais of black marble veined in gold, stood the Fire Lord’s throne: a magnificent seat of dark wood and burnished metal, its back carved with the eternal flame symbol of the royal crest.
And upon it sat Zuko.
He looked every inch the Fire Lord now. Crimson-and-gold robes draped over broad shoulders, his dark hair pulled back in the traditional topknot, the scarred side of his face turned partially toward the chamberlain who stood at the foot of the dais, reviewing a scroll of council agenda items. Two attendants waited near the side doors, ready to announce arriving nobles. Royal Guards stood motionless at the entrance, spears gleaming beneath the flames.
But Zuko’s attention had drifted long before the chamberlain finished speaking.
The moment you stepped through the doors, his golden eyes lifted to you.
He noticed everything immediately: the rigid set of your shoulders, the exhaustion hidden beneath careful poise, the way your fingers twisted together as though holding yourself upright through sheer force. You were beautiful, devastatingly so, wrapped in ceremonial silks embroidered with molten gold flames, but there was strain beneath the elegance. A quiet ache you tried too hard to conceal.
And he hated seeing it.
The weight of the palace pressed against you from every direction. Endless petitions. Trade negotiations. Noble families whispering behind painted fans. Every corridor felt lined with judgment. Too young. Too soft. Too harsh. Too loud. Too quiet. Too ordinary. Too unworthy to stand beside the Fire Lord.
"Apologies," you said, voice quieter than intended. “I didn’t realize you were preparing for council. I’ll come back later.”
You turned to leave, your hand already on the door handle.
"Everyone out."
His voice cracked through the chamber like flame striking oil.
The chamberlain blinked. "My Lord, the council preparations—"
"Can wait." Zuko's golden eyes swept over the room. "Attendants, guards, do take a break. All of you. I have an urgent matter to discuss with the Fire Lady. Privately."
No one dared argue. The attendants scattered immediately, guards bowing before retreating through the towering doors. The chamberlain hesitated only a heartbeat longer before lowering his head and following after them. Heavy doors shut with a resonant thud, sealing the throne room in silence save for the soft roar of firelight.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft, searching your face with those intense eyes that had seen too much war and too much loss, yet still looked at you with nothing but tenderness.
You tried to hold it in. You really did. But the words came tumbling out as you began to pace the throne room floor, your hands gesturing helplessly.
"The noble families are circulating rumors that I'm not fit to sit on the throne because I wasn't born into this life. They say I don't deserve this. That I'm just a decorative piece on your arm. That my efforts on the trade agreements are pointless because I'm not a warrior, not a firebender, not enough."
You climbed the steps toward him, frustration sharpening your movements.
"Today the governor of Yu Dao implied the orphanage reforms are a vanity project. Said you would’ve never wasted time on something so frivolous" Your voice cracked. "I'm trying so hard. I've memorized every protocol. I've studied the histories until my eyes ache. I greet every petitioner with respect. But it's never enough. They don't see me. They see some—some outsider who doesn't belong."
Zuko watched you for a long moment before holding out a hand.
"Sit with me," he murmured, and he patted his lap. "Come here."
You glanced toward the closed doors. “Zuko—”
"I don't care about the council," he said simply. "I care about you. Sit."
Slowly, you crossed the final steps and settled onto his lap sideways, silk cascading over his thighs and spilling down the throne like liquid flame. The moment you touched him, his arms wrapped around your waist instinctively, pulling you flush against the solid heat of his chest.
The familiar scent of sandalwood and smoke enveloped you. He pressed his lips to your temple.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and fierce, his forehead nearly touching yours. "You are not an outsider. You are my wife. You are the Fire Lady. And you are doing more for this nation than half the men who criticize you."
A kiss pressed against your cheek. Then another near the corner of your mouth.
"You care about people they’ve spent years ignoring. Those children in the orphanages know your name. The people in the lower districts wait for your visits because you actually listen to them.” His lips drifted lower, grazing the curve of your jaw. “You walked into a fractured kingdom and started stitching it back together with your bare hands. With me.”
Your breath caught softly when his mouth brushed the sensitive skin beneath your ear.
“I see every sleepless night,” he whispered. “Every sacrifice. Every burden you carry when you think no one notices.”
His fingers curled beneath your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.
“You are brilliant,” he said, voice low and rough. “You are brave. And Spirits help anyone who tries convincing you otherwise.”
You felt the tears prick at your eyes, but you held them back. You turned your head to look at him, and he captured your lips in a kiss that was slow and deep and full of everything he couldn't put into words. His hand slid into your hair, careful not to disturb the intricate pins as his lips parted yours deeper. Warmth bloomed through your chest immediately, dissolving tension beneath the relentless tenderness of his touch.
You melted against him with a shaky sigh.
The kiss deepened.
His tongue swept against yours languidly, savoring every soft sound you made while his hands roamed your waist possessively. Heat curled low in your stomach, replacing frustration with something dizzying and molten. Your hands finding his shoulders, your fingers curling into the fabric of his robes.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, laying soft, reverent kisses along the line of your throat. His hands moved, unbinding the sash at your waist, loosening the intricate folds of your ceremonial robe. The fabric fell away, baring your shoulders, your breasts. The cool air kissed your skin, but his warmth instantly replaced it as he pulled you flush against his bare chest. He had kicked off his outer robe somewhere in the process, and now your back pressed against the firm muscle of his torso, the heat of his skin seeping into yours.
"I want to remind you how powerful you are," he whispered, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck. "How beautiful. How utterly irreplaceable."
His right hand cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple with a practiced gentleness that made you gasp. At the same time, his left hand slid down your stomach, past your navel, between your thighs finding you wet and ready, and he let out a soft, appreciative hum against your ear.
"Perfect. You're perfect. Every inch of you. Every curve. Every thought in that brilliant mind."
His fingers found your clit through the thin fabric of your inner robe. You arched against him, your head falling back against his shoulder, and he caught your mouth in another kiss as his fingers moved in torturously slow circles, each movement drawing a shudder from your lips. He knew your body as intimately as he knew the pull of fire beneath his skin.
His other hand kept rolling and teasing your nipple, alternating between soft strokes and firmer squeezes. When you began to move against his fingers, he chuckled low in his throat.
“That’s it,” he praised softly. “Let me take care of you.”
His middle finger slid inside you, then a second, curling upward to stroke that perfect spot. You cried out, your hands gripping his thighs for purchase. He pumped slowly, deeply, his thumb still working your clit. Your head fell back against his shoulder immediately, breath breaking into soft moans as he worked you open.
His mouth never stopped moving against your skin.
Kisses along your throat. Your jaw. The sensitive place beneath your ear that always made you tremble.
"You feel that?" he whispered. "That's yours. Every bit of pleasure you feel is yours. You earned it. You deserve it. You are enough, you always have been, and if anyone says otherwise, they answer to me."
His thumb circled your clit relentlessly while his fingers thrust deeper, slower, dragging broken sounds from your throat with every movement. You clutched at his robes helplessly, grounding yourself against the overwhelming heat unraveling through your body.
The pressure built, warm and urgent, coiling low in your belly. You ground down onto his fingers, whimpering, and he matched your rhythm, speeding up just slightly. He felt the way you tightened around him, the way your breath caught, and how your body surrendered to his touch.
"You're doing so well..."
"I'm close," you gasped, your inner walls clenching around his fingers.
“I know," he breathed. "Let go for me. I've got you."
And you did, your climax crashed over you in waves, your body shuddering against his, a choked moan escaping your lips as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing. Zuko held you firmly through it, murmuring praise like a litany against your mouth while your thighs trembled around his hand.
“So beautiful,” he breathed. “That’s my girl…”
When you came back to yourself, you were breathing hard, your body limp against his, and he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
You barely had time to recover before you felt the hard outline of him pressing insistently against your lower back. You shifted, grinding against him, and heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Someone's eager," you murmured.
"You make me that way." He kissed your shoulder.
With surprising ease, he lifted you from his lap and rose from the throne. Your legs wobbled beneath you while he shrugged free of the remaining layers of his robes, exposing the toned planes of his chest and stomach beneath the light.
Scars marked his skin here and there. Proof of battles survived. Lightning endured. Beautiful in ways words could never fully capture.
He guided you gently back onto the throne itself.
The sight alone nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
Silk pooled around your thighs, hair slightly disheveled, lips swollen from his kisses while you sat upon the Fire Nation throne looking utterly ruined beneath his gaze.
Zuko dropped to his knees before you without hesitation.
“This throne belongs to you too,” he murmured, spreading your thighs carefully apart. “Allow me to show just how much you do.”
His tongue swept through your folds slowly, savoring you with an audible groan that sent heat spiraling straight through your body. He kissed and licked you with infuriating devotion, alternating broad strokes with flicks of his tongue against your clit until your fingers dug desperately into the throne’s armrests.
“Spirits,” he muttered against you. “You taste incredible.”
The vibration of his voice made your thighs shake.
He devoured you like a starving man, entirely unrestrained now. His fingers slid inside you again while his mouth worked your clit mercilessly, dragging you higher faster than before.
“Zuko—”
You tangled a hand in his hair instinctively, earning a deep sound from him that went straight through your core. His grip tightened on your thighs immediately, holding you open while he buried himself deeper between them.
“That’s it,” he growled softly. “Use my mouth. I want to feel you.”
The second orgasm built frighteningly fast.
Your body was already sensitive, trembling from the first release, making every stroke of his tongue almost unbearable in the best possible way.
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
His golden eyes lifted to yours briefly, darkened completely with desire.
“Come for me again.”
The command shattered whatever restraint remained.
Pleasure ripped through you violently, your cry echoing against the towering walls while your body convulsed beneath his mouth. Zuko drank in every tremor greedily, refusing to stop until your legs nearly gave out entirely.
Only then did he pull back.
When you finally turned, your legs shaky, you saw him still seated, his face glistening, his erection straining visibly against his trousers. He looked utterly, sinfully satisfied.
And Spirits, he looked devastating.
For several long moments, the throne room dissolved into silence broken only by the crackling braziers and your ragged breathing.
When he finally rose, his hand cupped your cheek with impossible gentleness, thumb brushing away the tear you hadn’t realized escaped.
He tilted your chin upward and brushed one final kiss against your lips- soft this time, almost boyish despite the crown resting atop his head.
“You are one of the best women this palace has ever seen,” he murmured.
The sincerity in his voice nearly undid you more than his touch ever could.
A watery laugh escaped you. “You’re biased.”
“Absolutely.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “But I’m also right.”
He bent down and kissed you again, deep and lingering, stealing the air from your lungs.
“What about you?” you murmured against his mouth, glancing downward meaningfully.
“It’s not necessary.” He rested his forehead briefly against yours. “Watching you fall apart for me is more satisfying than anything else.”
When you reached for your discarded robes, he caught your wrist gently.
“Take your time,” he said, quickly kissing the back of your hand. “I’ll delay the council.”
He crossed the throne room barefoot, gathering the remaining pieces of his clothing before stopping near the massive doors. He glanced back one final time.
His gaze swept slowly over you sprawled across the throne.
A dangerous smirk curved his mouth.
“I think the throne suits you, you look magnificent on it.”
And then he was gone, the doors closing behind him, leaving you alone in the throne room with the echo of his words, and the unshakable certainty that you belonged exactly where you were.
Part 2.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
note: i had a bunch of ideas written and in mind, and mixed them on this so i hope it makes sense. aaaand I’m thinking of a part 2 following Zuko’s turn on the throne…
“Zuko,” you moaned, fingers tangling in his dark hair as the Fire Lord’s crown lay discarded somewhere across the room, forgotten in the haze of desperation that had overtaken you both. Your head fell back against the cushions beneath you while he gripped the back of your neck for leverage, driving into you with relentless force.
“I know,” he breathed, his voice rough and strained. “I know.” His rhythm quickened, each thrust pushing your hips deeper into the couch until there was nowhere left to go but into him. “You—I—spirits…” The curse dissolved against his lips, frustration sharpening every word even as his pace never faltered. Sweat glimmered across his brow, loose strands of black hair clinging to flushed skin.
Your hand slid down the hard line of his arm, nails dragging along tense muscle as your gaze drifted helplessly to where your bodies met. Neither of you had even bothered removing your robes completely. Silk bunched around your waists, disheveled and half-open, and the sight of him moving inside you so slow, and deep, made your pulse stutter.
“What is it, Zuko?” you teased softly. “What do you want to say?”
The movement between you tugged your robe loose, exposing warm skin to the cool air. His eyes dropped instantly, amber darkening with hunger at the sight of your chest rising sharply beneath him. Whatever restraint he had left splintered.
“You— take me so… so well,” he groaned at last, the confession torn from somewhere deep in his chest. His rhythm slowing while he weighed whether he could spare the time to bury himself between your breasts.
A pleased smile curved against your lips. Your fingers caught his jaw, forcing his gaze back to yours. “What else, Zu?”
“I love when you… get so—tight around me,” he admitted, forehead dropping against yours.
“Do you?” you whispered, lips brushing his while you clenched around him.
His eyes shut immediately, a sharp breath escaping through his teeth as his movements nearly stuttered.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“Why not?” Your hand slid beneath the folds of his robe, fingertips tracing the heat of his chest.
“Because…” He exhaled shakily, his eyes remained closed trying to compose himself as he kept thrusting into you. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
A soft laugh escaped you, breathless and wicked. “Who would’ve thought the Fire Lord couldn’t handle a little teasing?”
You caught his jaw tighten.
“I can,” he said firmly, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. “Just don’t do that again.”
“You mean this?” you asked sweetly before tightening around him once more.
“Fuck.”
He rose abruptly, one hand tangling into your hair with instinctive force. The sharp pull sent pleasure skittering down your spine, and the sound you made only seemed to unravel him further.
For a second, his fingers softened, stroking the spot he’d tugged as though apologizing for losing control, before whatever patience remained in him vanished entirely.
Instead of speeding up recklessly, he drove into you with brutal precision in deep, steady thrusts that knocked every coherent thought from your mind one by one. The couch creaked beneath you, your legs trembled violently as moans spilled freely into the room, loud enough that neither of you could pretend the guards stationed outside the office doors weren’t hearing every sound.
Zuko leaned over you, breath hot against your ear, each stroke somehow deeper than the last.
“What were you saying, sweetheart?” he murmured. “Hm? What happened?” Another thrust stole the air from your lungs. “I can’t hear you, Fire Lady.”
adult zuko x reader | contains smut | minors dni. | wc: 5,5k
Summary: in which a very inconvenient royal gathering, one persuasive Katara, and a suspicious blue drink lead you to realize you and the fire lord are definitely not just friends anymore.
Content: adult!zuko x reader, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol use, mutual pining, humor, tension, a bath scene, lowkey ‘dress’ by taylor swift inspo but i got carried away.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
You hadn’t expected to be invited.
The Fire Lord had begun (reluctantly, and under considerable pressure) his search for a Fire Lady. Or, as the council so bluntly put it, the future bearer of his heirs. Despite his many objections, delays, and carefully constructed excuses, the royal council had finally insisted on a solution: a formal gathering. A carefully curated event where daughters of noble families and valued allies of the Fire Nation would be presented, each given the opportunity to earn his favor.
You knew better than anyone that it was, in every possible way, not Zuko’s style.
Your visits to the palace had become frequent enough that the guards barely questioned your presence anymore, and among your friends, you were the only one who never seemed eager to leave. You had seen him in moments the council never would: tired, frustrated, quietly resistant to everything they were trying to force onto him.
Which was exactly why the invitation in your hands felt so… wrong.
Katara had been beside you when it arrived, and her reaction had been a delighted gasp, followed by barely contained excitement over what she insisted on calling your long-standing crush on Zuko.
A perfectly reasonable (and, you would argue, entirely manageable) crush. Because more than anything, he was your friend.
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” you said, already trying to dismiss it. “My family isn’t noble. We live on the outskirts of the capital. I shouldn’t even be on this list.”
“Or,” Katara countered, eyes lighting up, “he did it on purpose. Maybe he realized he likes you, and this is his way of making it official!”
You huffed. “If that were true, he could have just asked me to come. Not… include me with everyone else.”
You felt more disappointment than you cared to admit, and Katara didn’t miss it.
She crossed the room, digging through your wardrobe before pulling out a garment you hadn’t touched since Ba Sing Se. “Either way, you’re wearing this,” she declared, holding it up with a grin. “You looked beautiful when you tried it on. He’s going to lose his mind! Honestly, I wish I could be there to see it.”
You hesitated, your arms crossing as your gaze settled on the dress you had been saving for an occasion that had never come.
“I’m not wearing that,” you said after a moment. “In fact, I’m not going at all.”
Katara raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just a good friend,” you added.
“He knows I’ll be traveling with Toph to visit Aang,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe he just… wants someone he trusts there.”
You raised your eyebrows.
She stepped closer, pressing the dress into your hands. “A good friend wouldn’t let him face that alone, would she?”
You exhaled.
She was persuasive. Annoying, but persuasive.
And, unfortunately, right. Not just about the quality of friend you were.
About the dress, too.
The fabric was a smoldering red, layered with silk that shifted like flame when it moved. Gold threading traced delicate patterns along the bodice (subtle, but unmistakably Fire Nation in design) while the neckline dipped just enough to feel daring without crossing into impropriety. The sleeves were light, almost weightless, leaving your arms free, and the skirt fell in flowing panels that caught the light with every step.
You didn’t belong to the court, but you certainly didn’t fade into it either.
Heads turned as you stepped further into the room, the hum of conversation continuing around you, and standing there, surrounded by a sea of people, you realized… maybe Zuko wasn’t the only one who was going to faint.
He stood across the room, mid-conversation with an attendant, a glass held loosely in his hand.
And spirits, he had never looked like that before.
Zuko was dressed in full Fire Lord regalia, layers of deep crimson and black falling sharply along his frame, embroidered with gold that caught the light like flickering fire. The high collar framed his face, emphasizing the sharp line of his jaw, while the structure of the robes did nothing to hide the strength beneath them- broad shoulders, a straight posture that spoke of both discipline and quiet power. His hair was pulled back neatly, though a few strands had come loose, softening him in a way that made him look less like a ruler and more like him.
Like the boy you knew before he’d redeemed himself, and now the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.
His gaze found you in an instant.
Without thinking, you lifted your hand in a small wave You noticed the women gathered nearby begin to murmur among themselves, one of them smiling as if that look had been meant for her.
If only she knew.
You tried to weave your way through the crowd, intent on reaching him, when the hem of your dress was suddenly tugged back by someone stepping on it.
“Excuse me, I need to speak with the Fire- oh.” The woman turned, recognition lighting her face. “It’s you. Aren’t you… a friend of his?”
“I…” Your eyes flickered past her, catching sight of Zuko already being drawn into yet another conversation, this time with a different woman. “…am. Yes.”
“I thought this event was reserved for nobility,” she continued, her gaze traveling over you with thinly veiled judgment. “Shouldn’t you be off fighting alongside the Avatar or something, instead of trying to fit into places like this?”
Before you could answer, a hand you would recognize anywhere came to rest on your shoulder.
“Lady Renmei,” Zuko said, stepping into place beside you. “I wasn’t aware your invitation had been approved.”
She bowed. “It was, Fire Lord, and it is an honor to—”
“In fact,” he cut in, “I believe it has just been revoked.”
He smiled politely in response to her shocked expression.
“This gathering is not intended for those who lack basic courtesy. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing as an attendant swiftly escorted her away.
The moment she disappeared from view, you turned back to him, your amusement impossible to conceal. You lifted your hand, and he met it with a quick, faintly smug tap. Small enough to go unnoticed by anyone else.
“So this is why the Fire Lord can’t find a Fire Lady,” you murmured. “You charm them straight out the door.”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “If that were true, I might actually be grateful for all of this. I could dismiss them quicker.”
He shifted beside you, his gaze moving briefly over the crowd. “This whole process is exhausting.”
“Have you, though?” you asked, glancing up at him. “Found someone?”
He rolled his eyes- completely undisguised, and very much not befitting a Fire Lord. “Not even close. I never intended to. But they insisted, and I was obligated to at least try, remember?”
“They’re going to be disappointed,” you said lightly. “Good luck with that.”
“Perhaps not,” he replied, quieter now.
You didn’t quite understand what he meant. He had stepped closer without you noticing, the warmth of him unmistakable now, radiating through the space between you.
“I’m glad you came,” he added. “I thought you might leave with Katara and Toph.”
So Katara had been right.
Again.
You took the untouched glass he offered, still warm from his hand. The brief contact sent a quiet spark through you, one you tried very hard to ignore.
“I just thought you might need some support,” you said. “And I am a good friend, aren’t I?”
Zuko stilled.
For a moment, he didn’t respond, as if weighing your words more carefully than they deserved. “I—“
“Fire Lord Zuko,” a nobleman interrupted, stepping forward. “Allow me to present my daughter….”
“Of course,” Zuko replied, the politeness returning instantly, though you could hear the effort behind it.
Before he turned away, he glanced back at you briefly. You dipped into a small, proper bow.
“Duty calls, Fire Lord.”
He nodded before turning away, though you could have sworn there had been something else in his eyes, almost like disappointment.
You drifted toward a quieter side of the hall, where a long table had been arranged with Fire Nation desserts- glazed fruits, delicate pastries, and warm, spiced sweets you had grown far too fond of over the years. Beside them, trays of drinks shimmered under the light.
You paused there, looking over them, unsure.
“You do not seem very happy.”
Uncle Iroh’s voice was unmistakable, even in a room this full as it carried warmth all its own.
You turned instantly, a smile breaking through as you stepped forward to embrace him. He laughed softly, returning it.
“What troubles you, my dear?” he asked, studying you with that same knowing gentleness. “Are you not enjoying the gathering?”
You let out a quiet huff, your shoulders dropping just slightly. “I would… if I could spend it the way I want. With who I want,” you admitted.
His smile deepened, thoughtful rather than amused.
You had known him long enough to trust that look,, ever since those quiet afternoons in his tea shop in Ba Sing Se, where advice had come as easily as the tea itself.
“Don’t you have a tea for this?” you added.
“Oh, my dear,” he said, folding his hands behind his back, “tea can calm the heart, but it cannot decide for it. When your path feels uncertain, it is often because you are standing at the edge of a choice you already know you must make.”
You stilled slightly at that. After a moment, he picked up a glass from the table, filled with a soft, blue liquid and offering it to you.
“But in your case,” he added with a small, knowing smile, “tea may not be enough.”
You took the glass, and the evening seemed to blur pleasantly after that.
Time slipped through your fingers. You danced with Uncle Iroh, spoke with him longer than you meant to, and drank just a little more than you probably should have. The music softened, the laughter grew warmer, and for once, your thoughts stopped circling back to him.
At least… not as often.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Iroh, I shall return with more!” you promised, already stepping away. He laughed, clearly delighted by your company.
You were scanning the room for another tray of that same blue drink when your footing faltered, and before you could fall, a pair of strong hands caught you.
“Whoops!” you laughed, looking up. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your Fire Lordness—spirits! How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Your hands slid to his arms without hesitation. “You look amazing, did you know that?”
Heat rushed to his face almost instantly.
Zuko steadied you carefully, his grip firm but controlled, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what you might do next. He glanced toward a nearby attendant. “Clear the area, tell everyone to leave,” he said quietly. “I’ll handle this.”
“Yes, Fire Lord,” the attendant replied, already moving. “Good luck with your friend.”
“Handle what?” you asked, slipping your arm through his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Who’s your friend? Have you already chosen someone?”
“You are my friend,” he said, a little more quickly than intended, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked you over. “And what, exactly, did my uncle give you?”
You followed his gaze across the room, spotting Iroh near the drinks, happily waving in your direction.
“A great piece of advice, of course,” you said, as if that explained everything. “You should try it- you look like you need it. Oh! There it is!”
You reached for another tray, grabbing it entirely from a passing attendant before Zuko could stop you.
“You’ve had more of those?” he asked, incredulous now, guiding you gently, but firmly, away from the crowd.
“Yes,” you said brightly. “It’s better than tea.”
“That’s… not reassuring.”
He led you through the edge of the hall, away from the music and the watching eyes, into a quieter corridor lined with warm lantern light. Guards straightened at his approach, but he dismissed them with a brief gesture before opening a set of doors and guiding you inside.
You stepped in—
and stilled.
You weren’t in the gathering anymore. You were in Zuko’s chambers.
The space was quieter, warmer than the rest of the palace, lit by low, steady firelight that flickered softly along the walls. Rich fabrics in deep reds and golds framed the room, but there was something more personal beneath it- less ceremonial and more lived-in. A low table rested near the center, scattered with scrolls and maps, some half-unrolled as if he had left them mid-thought. His armor stood carefully arranged near one wall, not displayed, but ready. And just beyond it, his bed… simple in structure, but softened by layered blankets and dark silk.
You turned slowly, taking it all in, your gaze lingering just a moment too long on the details that felt so familiar, so Zuko.
The quiet click of the door pulled you back. You turned, still holding the tray, and found him watching you. There was something uncertain in his expression, almost disbelieving but warmer than anything he had allowed himself to show in the hall.
“So this is where you rest…” you said, stepping further into the room, your fingers brushing lightly along the edge of a table as you passed. “Very appropriate.”
A small smile found its way onto his lips, and he ran a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristically shy gesture that didn’t quite belong to the Fire Lord.
“I wasn’t sure where else to take you so I could—” he paused, searching for the right words, “—make sure you were alright. Forgive me if this is… improper.”
“Does your chamber have a bath?” you asked suddenly, interrupting him as you turned back, your tone light but earnest. “I really need one. May I?”
He blinked, caught off guard, then nodded, still a little speechless as he gestured toward a door tucked into the corner of the room.
You smiled, placing the tray into his hands before lifting one of the glasses and finishing it in a single motion. “Don’t get rid of these,” you added, already moving. “I love them. You should try one- here!”
You pressed another glass into his hand, ignoring the way he eyed it with suspicion.
“Oh, come on, don’t be boring, flameo hotman,” you teased, stepping backward toward the door. “I expect that glass to be empty when I come out.”
The bathing chamber was warm the moment you entered, the air thick with rising steam and the faint scent of heated stone. Fire Nation design carried through here as well- dark red tiles, polished to a soft sheen, lined the floor and walls, while narrow vents along the edges released controlled heat, keeping the space comfortably hot.
At the center sat a large sunken bath, carved from smooth stone, wide enough to fit several people at once. Thin streams of heated water flowed continuously into it from sculpted spouts, the surface rippling gently under the glow of low lanternlight.
The warmth settled into your skin almost instantly. You exhaled, already beginning to undo your dress, fingers working quickly at the fastenings hidden along the side. The fabric clung stubbornly, resisting your efforts far more than it had any right to.
You tried again.
And again.
A quiet huff escaped you.
‘Please don’t do it. Please don’t do it’, a voice in your mind insisted.
You hesitated for only a second.
“Zuko!” you called, the sound echoing softly against the stone. “Could you—” you paused, then committed, “—come help me, please?”
You weren’t entirely sure he had heard you, so you considered calling again. You weren’t drunk, you knew that, but you were certainly something. Enough to say things you normally wouldn’t, and to let thoughts slip past the careful filter you always kept in place around him.
“What can I help you with?”
His voice came from the doorway.
You turned slightly.
Firebenders… if only the heat affected him the way it affected you. You would have given anything to see those layers gone from him, just once.
“My dress,” you said, turning your body so he could see the fastening along your side. “I need you to undo it. The blue drink isn’t exactly helping.”
A faint pout tugged at your lips.
Color rose to his cheeks almost instantly.
“I—yes—of course,” Zuko stammered, clearing his throat as he stepped fully inside and closed the door behind him.
He approached carefully like each step required more thought than it should have. His hands hovered for a brief moment before finally settling at the fastening of your dress.
Warmth creeped through your body. Not from the room, from him.
His fingers worked slowly, deliberately, undoing each tie with care, though the occasional brush of his knuckles against your skin sent a quiet shiver down your spine. He was focused- too focused on the task, as if looking anywhere else would be a mistake.
Once the dress loosened enough to slip from your shoulders, he stepped back immediately, turning away from you altogether.
“What are you—?” you began, then stopped, understanding settling in. “Oh. Thank you for your help. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
The words lingered in the air longer than you intended. He didn’t move.
“I think I should,” he said after a moment, still facing away. “You’re not exactly steady, and I’d rather not have you slipping into my bath unattended.”
You smiled to yourself, the fabric already on the floor, and stepped into the water.
The heat wrapped around you instantly, sinking into your skin, easing tension you hadn’t realized you carried- but it wasn’t the same. Not like his touch.
Not like the warmth of his hands, careful and grounding, lingering far longer in your mind than it had on your skin.
You exhaled softly, settling into it.
“You can turn around now.”
He did, slowly, as if giving himself time to prepare, and when his gaze finally found you in the water, it faltered for just a fraction of a second. His eyes widened, not enough to be obvious, but enough for you to notice.
You held back a smile.
“I might already know your answer,” you said lightly, tilting your head just enough, “but could you bring me the tray with the drinks?”
He crossed his arms, something amused flickering across his face. “It’s gone.”
“What?” you asked, sharper than you meant to be. “Why?”
“I…” He hesitated, then exhaled. “I drank the rest.”
You blinked.
“You… did?” A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Well. That’s unexpected.”
“I apologize,” he added quickly, though there was a faint hint of ease in his voice now, his hands moving behind his back. “But now that you’ve discovered them, I’ll make sure they’re prepared whenever you visit.”
“They are very good,” he admitted, almost as an afterthought.
“I know,” you said, your laughter softening. “But they help you relax. I’m sure you noticed. Maybe you should—”
You stopped yourself, your hand quickly covering your mouth.
He let out a quiet laugh.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, sinking just a little deeper into the water, as if it might hide you. You inhaled slowly, steadying yourself before peeking at him again. “We’re friends, right?”
He nodded, a small, knowing smile resting on his lips.
“Would it be strange,” you continued, your voice softer now, “if you joined me? It might help. The water is… very nice. And you deserve to rest.”
“We’re friends,” he said after a beat. “We’ve been in the sea together before. I suppose this isn’t much different.”
Before you could fully process his answer, his hands lifted to the fastenings of his robes- only for him to pause.
“I turned around…” he reminded you.
You did so immediately, your back to him, suddenly far more aware than you had been moments ago. You kept your gaze fixed ahead, willing yourself not to turn, not to think too much about the quiet movements behind you such as the soft shift of fabric, the faint sound of layers being set aside.
You didn’t move. Not until you heard the water behind you, a soft ripple followed by a light tap against your shoulder.
When you finally turned, your breath caught.
His silhouette had changed. The weight of his formal attire was gone, leaving only the quiet strength of him beneath the water, the surface breaking just at his chest. His hair, no longer bound, fell freely around his face and shoulders, dark strands softened by the steam.
This time, you felt your cheeks warm.
“Well…” you said, letting out a small laugh, “I suppose the bath works better than the drinks.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I’m still not convinced those drinks should be allowed in the palace.”
“They should,” you countered, shifting slightly in the water, the movement sending gentle ripples toward him. “They make people honest.”
“That explains a lot,” Zuko replied, glancing at you with quiet amusement.
You smiled, relaxing a little more. “And they’re calming! You needed it. You looked like you were being sentenced, not hosting a gathering.”
“That’s not far from the truth,” he admitted, settling back against the warm stone ledge of the bath. “I think I spoke to at least ten people about alliances I don’t want and futures I’m not planning.”
“And the ladies?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Any of them win you over?”
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Not even close.”
“Wow,” you said lightly. “They’re going to be devastated.”
“I think they’ll recover,” he replied dryly. Then, after a beat, his tone softened just slightly. “You weren’t supposed to be part of that, you know.”
You stilled a little. “Then why am I?”
He hesitated.
“My uncle insisted,” he said. “He said I should invite people I actually trust.” His gaze flickered back to you. “People I would rather see there.”
The words hit your chest in an exquisite way.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he added.
You looked down at the water briefly, your fingers trailing through it. “I almost didn’t.”
That caught his attention.
“Why?”
You shrugged slightly, though it wasn’t as effortless as you wanted it to be. “Because I didn’t want to be… part of a list.”
“You’re not,” he said, a little too quickly.
You looked up at him again, studying him more carefully now. “Then what am I, Zuko? Just a friend?”
He didn’t answer right away.
The water between you stilled.
“Someone I wanted here,” he said finally. “A very important guest.”
You huffed softly, trying to pull the moment back into something lighter. “Well, next time you could just say that. Save me the competition.”
“There wouldn’t be any,” he replied, almost absentmindedly.
You blinked.
“…Zuko.”
He seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late, his gaze shifting, a hint of color rising to his face again.
“I didn’t mean—” he started.
“You did,” you interrupted.
You shifted in the water.
“For someone who didn’t want this whole thing,” you murmured, “you’re not doing a very good job of hiding your preferences.”
His eyes met yours again.
“I wasn’t trying to,” he said.
The words struck you more directly than you expected, like a lightning, leaving no room to laugh them off.
“Zuko, I—”
“Don’t do that again,” he said suddenly.
You stilled, confusion flickering across your face as you found yourself drifting closer without quite realizing it.
“Do… what?” you asked, a note of uncertainty slipping into your voice. For a brief second, doubt crept in… had you misread everything? Had you gone too far?
“Say my name like that,” he interrupted your thoughts, his voice lower now. He stepped closer as well, closing what little distance remained between you. “And before you ask, I mean when you say it like that. Breathless…”
He stopped himself, jaw tightening slightly, as if he had already said more than he meant to.
“It makes me want to—”
He cut himself off.
Your gaze didn’t leave his.
“It makes you want to what?” you asked, softly. “What, Zuko?”
The space between you disappeared in a single movement, his restraint finally giving way as he kissed you firmly. It wasn’t hesitant, but it wasn’t careless either; there was intention in it, in the way he held you and the way he didn’t pull away.
Your hands found his hair almost immediately, still damp, fingers threading through it. The contact seemed to undo something in him, his composure slipping as his hands moved to your sides, finally allowing himself to touch you, to feel the closeness he had been so careful to avoid.
You were already close, but it wasn’t enough.
His grip tightened as he drew you closer, guiding you with him as he lowered himself against the edge of the bath, bringing you with him until you were settled over him, the water shifting around you both.
“Zuko…” you breathed, breaking the kiss.
“Exactly like that,” he murmured, his forehead resting briefly against yours. “You’re not very good at following requests, are you?”
A soft laugh escaped you, light but unsteady, as you leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek, just at the edge of his scar. He stilled for a moment, caught off guard by the gentleness of it before your hand came up to his face in a quiet reminder that it was only you. He relaxed.
“I am,” you said quietly. “Even more now, I promise. The blue drink made me more… agreeable.”
“Then,” he replied, his voice lower now, steady but no longer distant, “may I request something of you?”
You simply nodded.
“Would you let me touch you?” he asked.
Given the way you were seated over him, the question felt almost rhetorical.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”
A small smile curved on his lips as his hand moved between you. “You sound delightful,” he murmured. “That’s a word I’ve never heard from your mouth before…”
You didn’t get the chance to respond.
A sharp gasp escaped you as his fingers found your clit, circling with intention, drawing an immediate reaction from you. Your body sank further onto him, your hands rising instinctively to cradle his face as he leaned back against the edge of the bath.
“Isn’t this trick effective?” he asked, his voice edged with curiosity as his movements grew more precise. His other hand steadied your waist, keeping you from shifting too far. “I don’t hear you talking anymore…”
A breathy laugh slipped from you as you leaned into the crook of his neck. “You are… you—” you tried, your words breaking as his rhythm adjusted, firmer now, exactly where you needed him.
Until he stopped.
You barely had time to react before his lips brushed your shoulder, grounding you again, and then he rose from the water, lifting you with him effortlessly.
“You move your waist too much,” he said, almost thoughtful, as he carried you out of the bath without pause. “I think we should move somewhere more… stable.”
“I’m being carried, so I trust you,” you replied with a small laugh. “Though I’m starting to think this was your plan all along.”
The lightness in your tone didn’t last long.
He set you down gently on the bed, and for the first time, you really looked at him.
Water still traced down his skin, every line of his body defined beneath the dim light- the strength in his shoulders, the firmness of his chest, the way his abdomen tightened with every small movement. There was something almost unfair about it.
“I could really get used to this,” he said, moving over you.
He had barely settled into place when you shifted, pushing him onto his back instead. Now he lay against the mattress, and you were above him, your body still damp, the last drops of water slipping between you.
“Me too,” you answered.
Your hands moved over him starting at his chest, sliding lower, until they reached him. Already hard. You stroked him once, then again, slow enough to feel the effect it had on him as his breath caught.
“You were right,” you murmured. “This trick is… very effective.”
His hands found your waist, gripping just firmly enough.
It was all the invitation you needed.
You leaned down, pressing your lips to his again as your hand continued its slow rhythm, your body shifting closer until you aligned yourself over him. You paused just for a second, before easing down, taking him in gradually.
Both of you let out a low moan at the same time.
You adjusted, your hands moving briefly to push your hair back before settling into a rhythm- slow at first, but with an urgency beneath it that refused to be ignored. The lingering warmth from the drink was nothing compared to the feeling of him inside you, the steady pulse of him making your body respond around him.
The pace didn’t stay slow for long.
The soft sounds of movement filled the room as your rhythm quickened, the contact between you becoming more insistent, less controlled.
“You feel… so good,” he said, his voice strained now, his hands tightening as he shifted, lifting you slightly just to change the angle, his movements growing harder and faster.
“Don’t stop, Zuko… please,” you breathed. “I’m close.”
“How could I even dare?” he answered, his voice strained with his own effort.
The heat of him only seemed to intensify, his skin burning warmer beneath your hands, his grip tightening as he moved with you; matching your pace, guiding it, until it was impossible to tell who was leading anymore.
“You’re so… beautiful,” he murmured against your ear, his voice breaking slightly as his rhythm continued, the sounds of your bodies meeting filling the space between his words. “You always have been…”
His voice, his words, the feeling of him still buried inside you- it all came together at once, sending you over the edge. Your body trembled, your legs tightening as your release hit you.
He held you through it, steadying you, grounding you, before easing you down onto the bed beside him- never leaving you, never breaking the connection between you.
His movements grew uneven, less controlled, until he followed you, his breath catching as he finally stilled.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Only your chests did in attempt to catch your breath.
His hand remained at your side, absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against your skin, as if grounding himself in the fact that you were still there.
You shifted slightly, just enough to look at him.
He was already looking at you.
You leaned in first.
His hand came up to your face almost instinctively, holding you there with gentleness.
When you pulled back, it wasn’t far.
“We’re… very bad at being just friends,” you murmured, touched with the faintest hint of a laugh.
A breath of a smile crossed his lips.
“I think we’ve been bad at that for a while.”
You huffed lightly, letting your forehead rest against his for a moment. “Katara is never going to let me hear the end of this.”
That earned you a quiet laugh from him.
“She already didn’t,” Zuko admitted.
You pulled back just enough to look at him. “What does that mean?”
“She may have said something,” he replied, almost too casually. “About you not just being there for… support.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly, though a smile betrayed you. “I knew she was involved somehow. She was very insisting about that dress.”
“I’m glad she was,” he said. “You looked flawless.”
Your fingers drifted lazily over his chest, tracing patterns without much thought. “I don’t regret listening to her. Nor do I do the dress, the drinks, the very questionable decisions—”
“The drinks were definitely a factor,” he added.
You laughed softly. “They were excellent, by the way.”
“I noticed. And I’m glad you don’t regret it.”
You shifted closer again, your head finding a more comfortable place against him, your voice lowering as the weight of the night finally began to settle in.
His arm moved around you without hesitation.
Your eyes began to grow heavier, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion you had been ignoring all evening.
“Don’t let them pick someone else,” you murmured, already half-asleep, your words softened by sleep.
A quiet breath of a laugh left him.
“I’d like to see them try,” he said quietly, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin as the night finally stilled around you.
Part 2.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
Note: i spent so much time on this. it wasn’t supposed to be this long but I hope you enjoyed! Xx
you could do it on your own (while you're looking at me).
adult zuko x reader nsfw | smut | minors dni. | wc: 1.1k
summary: after a long day trapped in meetings, zuko returns to his chambers only to find you already halfway undone by thoughts of him.
content: fire lord adult!zuko x fire lady reader, explicit sexual content [masturbation, watching/mutual pleasure, bit of dirty talk], steam/firebending imagery, pet names (“love”), established relationship.
note: this is what happens when i try writting a blurb, a short one-shot comes out - loosely inspired by ´sports car´ by tate mcrae, and s/o to fandom_fire on tiktok for the "lord" hc.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
It began with a memory.
You found yourself thinking about the way Zuko had looked that morning: the early sunlight tracing the edges his scar, the sharp line of his jaw as he fastened his belt, the lingering heat in his gaze before duty finally dragged him from your chambers. Even half-dressed and distracted by royal obligations, he had looked at you as though leaving you behind was a personal offense.
Then your thoughts drifted further back, to several nights before, when he had pulled you into the shadows of an empty corridor because, in his own strained words, he “couldn’t wait anymore.” One hand had braced against the wall beside your head while the other covered your mouth to swallow your cries, his desperation unraveling through every thrust until your knees had nearly given out beneath you.
Hours had passed since he’d disappeared into meetings. Dinner had come and gone without him, leaving the palace unbearably quiet. And alone in the privacy of your bedchambers, wrapped in silk and memory, your hand couldn't help but slip beneath your robe.
Your fingers found the slick heat between your thighs. Slowly, greedily, you began to touch yourself, chasing the ghost of his mouth, his hands, the weight of him. The memory alone made your breath falter.
You were so lost in it that you barely heard the heavy doors creak open.
Your head snapped up.
Zuko stood in the doorway, hair slightly disheveled as though he’d spent the evening dragging frustrated hands through it. His robes hung loose at the collar, and his amber eyes (usually controlled and unreadable in court) darkened the moment they landed on you. Your legs pressed together on reflex.
“Zuko, I—”
He crossed the room without a word.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed and moved toward you until he knelt at your side. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face with gentleness before trailing lower, covering the hand you had instinctively hidden between your thighs.
His mouth curved faintly.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he murmured. “Let me see what you do when you think about me.”
Heat flooded your face. Even so, you let him pull your hand away. Your fingers glistened with your own arousal, and his gaze lingered on them for only a moment before he brought them to his lips.
The sight of his tongue sliding across your skin made your stomach tighten.
His eyes fluttered shut briefly, a quiet shudder passing through him, and when he looked back at you, his expression had gone molten.
“Keep touching yourself,” he said under his breath. “I want you looking at me.”
You sank back against the pillows, your robe falling open completely as you obeyed. Silk pooled uselessly around your waist, leaving you bare, thighs parted just enough for him to see the evidence of your arousal between them.
He did not touch you. Instead, he reached down and freed his cock from his trousers, wrapping his fist around the shaft with a low exhale. It was thick and flushed, the head dark and wet. He began to stroke himself slowly, his gaze fixed on your body.
You watched the muscles of his stomach tighten, his lips part and his eyes glaze with lust which was more than enough for your fingers to resume their work, circling your clit with torturous slowness, matching his pace. A curl of steam escaped his lips. The sight of it sent a shiver through you.
"Zu—"
“Keep going,” he said, the words leaving his mouth in a breath warm enough to send another thin ribbon of heat through the air between you.
Your robes had long since ceased to be clothing. They were forgotten fabric, silk tangled around your elbows, bunched beneath your shoulders, clinging to the damp curve of your ribs like a second skin soaked through with sweat. The firelight around you caught the glisten on your collarbone, on your stomach, on the insides of your thighs. The heat from his mouth and his breathing turned the air thick and wet.
Your hair was everywhere, against the pillows, strands plastered to your temples, a few stuck to the corner of your lips. You hadn’t bothered to push them away. You couldn’t. Your hands were fisted in the sheets, knuckles white, your body growing steadily more restless beneath the weight of his attention.
“Faster,” he groaned softly, and his hand moved quicker on his cock. “Don’t even dare to slow down.”
You increased your rhythm, wet sounds filling the space between your ragged breaths. His strokes grew more urgent, and so did yours, each of you chasing the same release. Your waist was pressed flat to the mattress, your hips tilted up just slightly, enough to offer yourself fully. Your thighs were open wide, the muscles shaking, knees bent and falling apart. Your feet were planted on the bed, heels digging into the rumpled linen, toes curled as you arched into each stroke of your fingers.
"That's it," he rasped, his voice strained. "Don't look away. I want to see you, you look so ruined and beautiful, touching yourself in front of me."
Your thighs trembled harder, falling open as pleasure dragged through you in waves. Every movement of your fingers sent another pulse of heat through your body, tightening low in your belly until it almost hurt.
His hips began to thrust into his own fist, his composure cracking, his forehead beaded with sweat.
"Zuko… I'm so close," you whimpered, your fingers working desperately.
"Then come for me," he commanded, his strokes becoming erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. "Now."
Your body obeyed, convulsing as the orgasm broke over you, your cry dissolving into his name like a prayer. Your hips jerked against your hand as waves of pleasure rolled through you. Through blurred vision, you saw Zuko break with you.
A strained groan left him as his head tipped back, his hand pumping desperately before he spilled across your stomach in hot streaks. He shuddered through the release, heat ghosting from his mouth with every uneven breath.
His eyes never leaving yours, he lowered himself to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooked his arms under your thighs, and pulled you toward his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue through your soaked folds made your back curve against the mattress beneath you.
“Oh, lord…” you moaned softly.
“Yes, love?” he said smugly, the heat of his breath surrounding your aching thighs in slow waves. “If you started without me, it’s only fair that I finish it.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue returned deeper and devastating. He began to feast on you, his grunts and the wet sounds of his devotion filling the room. He devoured you like a man starved, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit between his lips, pushing his tongue inside you until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders all over again.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
note: i hope you liked itt! lmk if we like this format too or not at all. i didn't feel like writing a full shot or fic, so i tried a blurb out and this happened, curse or blessing? xx
— adult!zuko x reader. the dangers of sharing a tent with your boyfriend after a mission. | wc: 606
cw: smut, risky/public-adjacent situation, teasing, praise, hand over mouth, teeth grazing, mdni.
Zuko’s chest pressed against your back inside the cramped tent, the canvas walls doing nothing to block out the camp outside. His forearm slid under your neck, pinning you close, while his other hand glided down your side, leaving a wake of searing heat along your ribs.
The faint scent of crushed iris petals clung to the rough blanket beneath you, mixing with the sharp, green bite of strawberry leaves sticking to his skin from the trek back.
He nudged his cock between your thighs, the blunt heat of him finding your entrance.
“Zuko—“
“Shhh.”
With an unhasty push, he sank into you. The sudden fullness drew a shaky breath from both of your lungs. His hips rolled forward, each movement agonizingly committed, thick as he rode along your inner walls before withdrawing almost entirely. After the razor-thin margin of the mission, the sheer survival adrenaline was mutating into something dangerous, making the friction of his skin feel magnified tenfold.
Your fingers curled into the edge of the blanket.
Outside, footsteps crunched on dirt, faint voices from the surrounding tents flowed closer. Zuko’s breath scalded the back of your neck as he buried his face there, his teeth grazing your skin, testing the boundary of a bite.
The pressure built too fast. You let out a ragged sigh that caught on the edge of a moan as you clamped tight around him, desperate to swallow every inch of the next stroke.
“Come on,” he whispered the complaint against your throat. “They’re right outside…”
His free hand slid down between your thighs, his palm cupping you, his fingers slicking over your clit to mirror the torturous pace of his hips. Your hand tangled into his hair, pulling hard enough to root him there, the scorching urge to scream building behind your ribs. The wet, rhythmic slip of skin on skin was barely louder than the rustle of the travel mat beneath you, but every micro-shift felt deafening. Another weak sound split your lips.
"Bury your face," he mumbled against your skin. His jaw was locked, the muscles in his shoulders taut with the effort of keeping his pace measured when his pulse was clearly racing. "If you make a sound, I have to stop. And I really, really don't want to stop…”
He kept the depth exact, rocking forward until he was seated fully against you, pausing to let the ache build before sliding out again. Every long plunge sent sparks up your spine. His finger pressing just enough to make your thighs shudder.
You whimpered, your head tossing back against his shoulder. “I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. Just breathe. Let me take care of it."
Sweat gathered where your bodies locked together. Zuko’s hand left your center to grip the bone of your hip, his fingers digging in to hold you steady as he drove in deeper.
A loud sound threatened to rip from your throat. A reckless, desperate wave crashed over you…
You didn’t care if the canvas ripped, you didn’t care if the whole camp walked in, as long as he didn't pull away. You needed the ruin of it. You needed him to keep moving.
Sense left you, your hips rolling back against his in an open invitation to get caught.
“You’re killing me…” Zuko breathed.
His palm covered your mouth, firm enough to smother the high cry that followed his next deep and unraveled thrust.
“Bite down if you need to,” he said against the shell of your ear, his control cracking as his hips finally lost their cadence, driving into you with a hard desperation that matched your own. “Just don't make a sound…”
note: just felt like writing something quick. and spicy. and i was listening to ‘so high school’ by Taylor while i practiced vocabulary expansion, so why not. xx
adult fire lord zuko x fire lady firebender reader | mdni. | wc: 3,1k
summary: in which the Fire Lady has meetings to attend, and a kingdom to help run, but first she has to track down her missing husband and daughter.
content: adult!fire lord zuko x fire lady!reader, established marriage, domestic fluff, princess izumi, family dynamic, light humor, kissing, druk cameo, gaang mention.
note: no poorfread. hopefully i didn’t accidentally break any avatar lore along the way. based on this request.♡
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Your schedule had begun before the first bleeding of gold on the horizon. By midday, you had listened to three tiresome petitions, settled a petty dispute between rival merchants, and reviewed the exhaustive plans for the upcoming Festival of Harmony celebrations. You had also sat through an agonizingly circular meeting that, by all rights of efficiency, should have been reduced to a single sheet of parchment.
When you finally settled onto the high dais, you made sure to leave room beside you for your husband out of habit.
Zuko had slipped back into the palace sometime after midnight, fresh from a self-proclaimed 'sidequest' with your friends.
You had fully intended to coax the details out of him over breakfast, especially since you had remained in the capital to shoulder the festival preparations alone. That, and ensuring Princess Izumi completed her calligraphy lessons instead of smoothly convincing her tutor that practicing dragon doodles (her current obsession) counted as proper penmanship.
Unfortunately, the Fire Lord had arrived only hours before the start of your day, and left you to have breakfast on your own. You could only assume he had marched on to his next obligation.
The meeting before you was merely a dragging continuation of yesterday’s discussions regarding the festival. Most of the ministers had already begun rustling through their thick documents when Minister Qin looked up, clearing his throat.
“Should we expect the Fire Lord today, Fire Lady?”
The question was met with a few curious glances around the chamber.
You looked at the heavy iron-wood doors. At the back of the room, your chief attendant caught your eye. Nara shook her head.
“I would certainly like to,” you replied, a practiced smile gracing your lips. “But until he arrives, I suppose you’ll all have to settle for me.”
A few ministers chuckled quietly, the tension thawing. “It is always an honor, Fire Lady.”
You smoothed the silk of your robes, leaning forward. “Shall we continue where we left off yesterday, then?”
By the time you finally emerged from the council chamber, the sharp headache brewing behind your eyes had become impossible to ignore. As had the Fire Lord’s absence.
You found Nara waiting outside, a heavy stack of parchment tucked securely beneath her arm, two younger attendants trailing like shadows behind her.
“You did wonderfully, my lady,” one of them said, stepping forward to adjust the heavy drape of your sleeve.
“Thank you. Has Princess Izumi shown herself around the courtyard today?”
The two attendants exchanged a quick glance before shaking their heads.
That was unusual. Izumi practically lived to lie in wait outside the council chamber, eager to ambush you and accompany you through the rest of your royal duties after lunch whether she had been formally invited or not.
“Not at all, my lady,” Nara replied, her fingers tracing the edge of her ledger. “I can send someone to check the tutoring rooms.”
“Yes, please do.”
Nara tilted her head toward a passing attendant, a single look conveying the command.
You let out a long exhale, rotating your shoulders to ease the tension from the dais.
“Alright. Let’s move on to the next task.”
The group fell into a rhythmic step beside you.
“So, up next we have a fitting for the banquet,” Nara recited, her eyes scanning her notes. “The floral committee requires your final approval on the centerpieces. The palace artist is also requesting another sitting for your portrait…”
You let out a groan, the sound catching in your throat.
A glimpse of Zuko would have been a saving grace by now. A kiss (preferably, something slow and entirely improper for the daytime) was out of the question. Even stealing a few moments together in an empty room or corridor, the way you used to during your first years as Fire Lady, felt like a luxury from another lifetime.
“…and the dressmakers would like to discuss alterations,” Nara continued mercilessly. “That is for the immediate hour, but we could begin the trade research before the next council meeting if you wish.”
“We would need the Fire Lord for that,” you noted. “It’s vital he’s aware of the terms before we draft the decree.”
You pressed the tips of your fingers against your temple, soothing the pulse there, just as a breathless attendant hurried toward you.
He dropped into a low bow.
“My lady.”
“Yes?”
“Princess Izumi is not in the learning room. Her tutor claims she exceeded the expectations of the day, so she was allowed a few hours of rest.”
You nodded.
“Thank you very much for your assistance.”
The attendant bowed once more before quickly retreating down the hall.
Turning back to your staff, you crossed your arms.
“Do we have a single clue where my husband is hiding? Or is today the national day of missing royals?”
“I-I heard a guard mention the Fire Lord was at the eastern training grounds,” one attendant offered hesitantly.
“Today is his rest day,” the other countered. “I saw him heading toward the palace library earlier this morning, my lady.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Is Druk, perhaps… missing from the royal stables as well?”
Both attendants nodded.
You looked directly at Nara.
Zuko wouldn't simply vanish with Izumi without a word. Not because he was incapable of it; he had spirited her away countless times since she was a baby because, according to him, the dragon-back air helped her relax; but he never did so without leaving a note, or a whisper, or a touch against your shoulder to let you know.
The absence of the Fire Lord was one thing.
The absence of the princess was another.
But together? The pair were almost certainly up to something devious. Not the dangerous, nation-shaking kind of trouble. The fun kind. And, if you were being completely honest with yourself as you stood in the corridor, you couldn’t help the sharp twist of jealousy at being left behind…
Nara closed her ledger with a decisive snap, watching your expression.
“Go look for them, my lady.”
You looked at her. “But the fitting—”
“We will manage the dressmakers, they probably will appreciate to have some food anyway,” Nara assured you. “And we will find you if they grow restless. No need to worry.”
You gave her a grateful nod.
“Very well…”
You turned on your heel and set off down the corridor, adjusting your robes with a newfound purpose, completely unaware of where your husband and daughter had escaped to, but entirely intent on catching them in the act.
The palace grew less noisy the farther you ventured from the central corridors. You decided to check the royal library first.
No Fire Lord. Just rows of ancient scrolls and a very confused head archivist.
A quick detour to the training grounds proved equally fruitless; the sun-baked court was empty, save for a few master guards practicing their forms in the heat.
With a growing list of places to cross off, you pivoted toward the western gardens.
As you neared the threshold of the outer courtyard, a guard stationed near the archway caught sight of your silks.
“Your Majesty,” he murmured, offering a bow.
You slowed your pace, pausing just a few feet away.
“Have you seen the Fire Lord and Princess Izumi, by any chance?” you asked, maintaining a polite smile that hid the storm brewing beneath your surface.
Because if the Fire Lord and the heir to the throne had truly conspired to vanish for an entire afternoon without alerting a single member of the staff, they were both about to receive a very thorough piece of your mind…
“You will find them just ahead, Fire Lady,” the guard replied, gesturing toward the garden. “They have been there for some time.”
You raised an eyebrow, offering a brief nod of thanks before continuing down the path.
The deeper you drifted into the estate's private sanctuary, the more the outside world seemed to dissolve. The distant clatter of servants, the drone of ministers, and the sheer weight of your daily obligations faded, replaced only by the gentle rustle of open-air bamboo and the soft crunch of gravel beneath your slippers.
A flash of familiar crimson stretched across the grass caught your attention.
Druk was sprawled comfortably beneath the high afternoon sun, his scales absorbing the heat like rubies. With renewed determination, you stepped around the massive curve of the dragon's tail, ready to demand an explanation.
Your daughter sat cross-legged in the grass, a big leather-bound tome propped open in her lap. It was an advanced text on history of the world, far beyond the reading level of a five-year-old. Which meant she was almost certainly fabricating the entire narrative.
“…and then the dragon became Fire Lord becauseeee he is very powerful, you know,” Izumi informed the page, her tiny brow furrowed in absolute seriousness. She traced a finger over a detailed woodblock print of a map. “…but it was very difficult because dragons do not wear shoes. It was very tragic…”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt laughter threatening to ruin your entrance.
Right beside her sat Zuko. Or rather, he was completely dead to the world. As in, he was taking a nap.
One of his broad arms rested loosely around your daughter’s shoulders while he reclined back against Druk’s warm, rise-and-fall flank. The dragon seemed equally invested in the collective afternoon nap, the tip of his tail curving lazily around the patch of grass to form a protective barrier, keeping the outside world at bay.
Izumi delicately turned a heavy parchment page.
“…so then the dragon made a law that everyone must stop wearing shoes!”
An elegant solution to a complex political crisis, apparently.
You simply stared, letting the sheer absurdity of the scene wash over you. Your husband had missed the meeting you carried on, and somehow, he had ended up playing mattress to a dragon while your daughter dictated constitutional reforms for shoeless mythical reptiles… By all rights of the schedule, you should have still been annoyed.
Instead, your gaze lingered on the way Izumi leaned closer into her father’s side with every page she turned, making sure he remained part of her little world even while unconscious.
You took a soft step forward.
A stray twig yielded beneath your shoe.
Izumi’s head shot up instantly, her golden eyes widening as they locked onto yours.
“Mama!” she gasped.
You quickly raised a single finger to your lips. “Shhhh.”
The little girl slapped both hands over her mouth.
You walked closer, stepping onto the grass to look down at Zuko. He let out a slow breath in his sleep, his thumb twitching where it rested on Izumi's shoulder. His head remained tilted to the side, his sharp jawline relaxed. With his hair worn half-down, the long, dark strands fell softly around his face, framing his features and catching the filtered sunlight, while the top was gathered into the small, golden headpiece of the Fire Lord.
You crouched down right beside them. The temptation was simply too great; you leaned in, reaching out to gently brush a loose strand of hair away from his forehead, when Izumi decided to shatter the silence.
Pointing a dramatic finger at her father, she said at a full-volume shout:
“Papa is sleeping!”
At the sudden noise, Zuko’s eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, instincts kicking in as a barrage of disoriented questions tumbled out of him.
“What? Who? Izumi—?” His panic ground to a sudden halt the moment his gaze landed on you. The frantic edge vanished from his face, replaced by a sheepish grin. “Oh. Hi…”
“Hello, Zu. How was the nap?” you asked with a smile, smoothly catching the massive history book just as your daughter tossed it your way.
Before the book even cleared the air, Izumi threw herself face-first across her father's lap.
“Ow—” Zuko huffed.
“Papa! You fell asleep!” she accused, burying her face into his chest.
“I apologize, Izumi…” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep as his arms wrapped around her to keep her steady.
You couldn't help but smile, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. “So, how exactly did the two of you manage to go missing together?”
“Well…” Zuko cleared his throat, trying to find his regal composure while simultaneously anchoring your daughter. Izumi had already moved, flipping over onto her stomach across his lap, stretching her small arms out as she desperately tried to reach a wildflower growing just out of bounds on his other side.
Holding her securely by the waist, Zuko looked up at you. “Izumi and I crossed paths right after my morning session. She told me that her tutor had granted her some free time, and that she was heading out to find Druk to read him a story.”
You let out a soft gasp, catching your daughter's eye.
“On your own, little lady?”
“Yep!” Izumi chirped. She didn't even look up, entirely invested in her rescue mission for the flower, her legs kicking in the air.
You shook your head with a sigh, your focus going back to Zuko, who gave you a helpless look.
“… Of course, I wasn’t about to let her wander the grounds unattended,” Zuko continued, guiding Izumi just an inch closer so she could finally snag the stem. “I accompanied her, fully intending to head straight back to the council chamber once she was settled with Druk. But…”
“But my stories made him sleepy,” Izumi finished for him. She finally pulled back, clutching the flower in her fist, her bottom lip out in a dramatic pout.
“I’m pretty sure Druk was the one who was supposed to be listening,” you noted, tilting your head toward the dragon, who let out a whistling snore that sent a tiny puff of smoke curling from his nostrils.
Izumi blinked, looking at the slumbering reptile. “Oh. He’s asleep too!”
Forgetting her pout, she scrambled off Zuko’s lap, dropping her freshly picked flower on his knee.
“Druk! Wake up! You missed the part about the shoes!” She began enthusiastically patting the dragon’s scales in an attempt to rouse him.
Zuko watched her for a moment before his gaze traveled back up to you.
“I know I should have gone to the chamber,” he said. “Even though I’m sure you took care of everything. I only meant to close my eyes for a minute…”
“I know. You were missed, though,” you admitted, letting your arms drop to your sides. You stepped a little closer, the annoyance completely melting away. “I missed you. And I still want to know how everything went yesterday.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to take your hand. “You didn’t miss much…”
“That’s never true,” you countered with a roll of your eyes, stepping into his space to squeeze his hand.
His free hand drifted up to his hair, his fingers combing through the dark strands that had ruffled against Druk's scales during his nap.
“Well…”
“I’m all ears!”
Zuko let out a huff of laughter. “Katara and I spent half the trip trying to convince Aang that a four-hundred-year-old bridge was structurally unsafe…”
“Let me guess,” you interrupted. “He crossed it anyway.”
“And there’s no bridge anymore,” Zuko finalized, shaking his head at the memory.
“Why am I not surprised?”
A heavy rustle of grass disrupted the conversation as Izumi gave Druk an especially enthusiastic, two-handed shove.
The dragon grunted in his sleep, moving his massive weight to find a more comfortable position. As he rearranged his heavy coils, his long tail swept across the grass. The muscle bumped right against the back of your knees.
“Mama!”
You stumbled forward into a freefall, but Zuko’s hands caught your waist mid air, pulling you down flat against his chest instead of the dirt. The sudden weight knocked the breath from him in a gasp, but his arms didn’t wait to wrap around your back, pinning you against him.
Your faces were inches apart, your hair mingling with his where it rested against his shoulders.
“Well,” Zuko teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is a pleasant turn of events…”
“Blame your dragon,” you whispered, yet you didn't make the slightest effort to move.
You didn't give him a chance to tease any further. Leaning down, you closed the remaining distance between your lips. Zuko let out a defeated sound against your mouth, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck.
“Can I fit here too?”
The little voice made you both smile against each other's lips. Pulling apart, you looked down to find Izumi already maneuvering her way into the grass beside Zuko. She burrowed herself under his free arm, using his ribs as a pillow before flopping the heavy book open.
“Now we can all read together,” she decided, looking up at you both expectantly. “Laying down is better anyway.”
You chuckled, shifting around until you were tucked comfortably against Zuko’s other side, resting your head on his chest. The three of you settled into the grass, Druk’s warm flank radiating heat behind you like a furnace against the afternoon breeze.
“Fire Lady?”
You didn't even have to look up to know Nara had finally tracked you down, a junior attendant hovering nervously behind her as they approached.
Zuko let out a sigh, you felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.
“We should probably go,” he acknowledged as his grip on your waist tightened, contradicting his words.
You closed your eyes, letting the peace of the garden wash over you. The headache that had been threatening to split your skull all morning was entirely gone, and you had missed your family so much…
“No,” you said, stretching your legs out beneath your silks. “We’re going to lay with her. The urgent things have already been taken care of today.”
Raising your head enough to catch Nara’s eye, you offered a calm smile that brooked no argument.
“Nara? Please tell the dressmakers to come back tomorrow. The Fire Lord and I are occupied with state matters.”
Nara took in the scene: your finally relaxed posture, Zuko’s half-down hair, and Izumi, who was already deep into an entirely fabricated chapter about a sky bison who loved crowns.
“Understood, my lady,” Nara said, bowing low. “I shall reschedule everything for the morning.“
As the rustle of their footsteps faded back down the gravel path, Zuko let out a low laugh, his fingers tracing soothing circles against your shoulder. You tucked yourself closer against his side.
“So, the sky bison said what?” Zuko asked your daughter.
“Oh, he said… my crown is so pretty. Like the Fire Lady’s…”
Zuko pressed a soft kiss to your temple as Izumi’s voice drifted through the warm air, the afternoon sun beginning its slow descent over the Caldera.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚
note: i had to do an embarrassing amount of research for something that was supposed to be no plot just vibes. buuuut i hope you liked it! thank you again to the request that inspired this! xx
🏷️my dear taglist (based off your approval in the last whaletail island series - always open!xx): @highlady0239 @xoxocelestial @eepypupy @maee67 @keropiiko @yeonatingz
adult fire lord zuko x fire lady firebender reader | mdni. | wc: 7,1k
summary: in which the gaang orchestrates a fake diplomatic summit to force the fire lord and fire lady into taking a break.
content: adult!fire lord zuko x fire lady!firebender reader, established marriage, featuring the gaang (+ suki obvi), humour, element bending (sokka back bends duh), emotional intimacy, light angst, suggestive content, post-war, fluff.
note: no smut this installment! just exhausted married idiots and the gaang deciding enough is enough. pls ignore any accidental lore inconsistencies, i had to fill some restoration era/island worldbuilding gaps with my own interpretations hehe. finally proofread. welcome to whaletail island. ♡
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The royal ship cut steadily through the waters surrounding Whaletail Island, its crimson sails shifting beneath the midday wind while sunlight scattered gold across the waves below. Ahead, the island rose gradually from the sea through layers of pale mist and dark cliffs wrapped in cedar forests and hanging bridges barely visible between drifting steam rising from somewhere higher in the mountains.
The closer the ship drew, the quieter the sea seemed to become.
Above deck, Appa rested across the reinforced platform built specially into the center of the vessel, one enormous paw twitching lazily in his sleep while Momo curled comfortably between his horns with complete confidence that no one would dare disturb him there. Nearby, the rest of the Gaang had long since abandoned any attempt at productivity.
Unfortunately, the Fire Lord and Fire Lady had not.
“They’ve been in there for hours,” Sokka complained from where he leaned dramatically against the railing near the stern of the ship, gesturing toward the private cabin below deck with a piece of candied ginger he’d stolen from the kitchens earlier. “I’m serious. At this point I miss when they used to lock themselves away for more… entertaining reasons.”
Toph tilted her head toward him. “You’re such a creep.”
“I’m not a creep,” Sokka defended. “I’m nostalgic for when they acted like newlyweds instead of exhausted diplomats.”
“That’s not helping your case,” Katara muttered, though the amusement tugging at her voice betrayed her.
Nearby, Aang rested against Appa’s side. “I get what he means, though,” he admitted. “They used to relax more. Now every time we see them they’re discussing trade routes or council meetings, which is fair, but seems tiring.”
“Mm,” Toph hummed knowingly. “And their heartbeats are awful lately.”
Katara’s expression softened as she glanced toward the closed cabin door, where muffled voices could still occasionally be heard beneath the creaking of the ship. “I think they’ve both forgotten how to stop.”
Nobody joked after that.
“Do you think they’ll get mad when they find out?” Toph asked.
“She won’t,” Katara replied confidently.
“Zuko, on the other hand…” Aang muttered.
“Good thing we’ll have his wife on our side,” Sokka said brightly.
“And if we don’t?” Aang asked.
Sokka pointed toward Appa without hesitation. “Then you grab Appa and we leave before the entire Restoration work burns down.” He straightened abruptly. “Alright. I’m going to get them.”
Before anyone could stop him, Sokka shoved himself away from the railing and disappeared down the staircase toward the lower deck.
Inside the royal cabin, warmth drifted through the polished wooden walls from the ship’s heating vents while sunlight poured through the round windows overlooking the sea. Scrolls covered nearly every available surface, spread across the low table between you and Zuko, stacked beside ink brushes, tucked carelessly beneath official maps that had slowly begun overtaking the room throughout the journey.
Across from you, Zuko let out an annoyed sigh.
“Did you sign the harbor authorization for the eastern fleet?” you asked while skimming another line of the document in your hands.
“Yesterday,” Zuko replied without looking up. “I left it on your desk.”
You hummed before taking a sip of tea, absentmindedly warming the porcelain between your palms with a flicker of firebending. Amber light glowed briefly beneath your fingertips before fading back into the warmth of the cabin.
“And did you bring everything from my desk?”
He set one scroll aside in favor of another. “Of course.”
“I think you didn’t, my lord.” You lifted your gaze toward him over the edge of the paper. “You’re becoming forgetful already...”
One dark brow lifted as he finally leaned back far enough to look at you properly instead of the paperwork surrounding both of you. Light from the cabin windows caught against the gold threading of his robes, while loose strands of dark hair had begun escaping around his face beneath his royal headpiece.
“I definitely did.”
You lowered the document slowly. “Well, I cannot find the council seal or the information packet for this summit.”
His expression narrowed thoughtfully for a second before he gestured vaguely toward the growing stacks of scrolls crowding the cabin table, the nearby shelves, and somehow even part of the floor now.
“Maybe you moved them—” His eyes lifted back toward you. “Did you just call me old?”
“I didn’t,” you answered smoothly, allowing yourself a small smile at last. “Move them, I mean. I did call you old.”
That finally pulled a quiet laugh from him, soft enough you nearly missed it beneath the distant crash of waves against the hull outside.
The cabin door burst open.
“There you are, my favorite busy friends,” Sokka announced dramatically.
Neither of you even flinched. Zuko had already reached for another document before Sokka finished speaking while you continued shifting papers around the table in search of the missing packet.
“You say that like we disappeared,” Zuko replied flatly.
“It feels like you did,” Sokka informed him while crossing the cabin, only to stop short in visible horror at the amount of paperwork surrounding both of you. “It somehow looks worse in here now.”
“Sorry, Sokka,” you said while carefully setting another scroll aside. “We’re a little busy trying to find the information packet for the summit.” Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you even send it?”
Sokka visibly froze.
“Oh. Right,” he said quickly. “I forgot.”
You stared at him flatly.
“You forgot?”
“See? Not me,” Zuko muttered. “I’m perfectly in my youth...”
Your gaze snapped toward him just as the candle beside the cabin window flared unexpectedly brighter. A drifting bonsai leaf brushed too close to the flame and blackened instantly at the edges before curling into ash.
Sokka swallowed.
“It was complicated,” he defended quickly.
You pressed two fingers briefly against your temple before exhaling through your nose. “Don’t worry,” you said with the sort of composure that only existed because you had practiced it for years now. “We’ll manage. Like always.” Your eyes lifted back toward him. “Can you at least tell us more about it?”
Sokka snatched a loose sheet of paper from the crowded table and immediately began scribbling across it at alarming speed.
“I can…” He squinted down at the page. “Rewrite it.”
“By memory?” you asked.
“Duh.” He dipped the brush back into ink without hesitation. “I’m the best, if you haven’t figured that out already.”
Zuko finally looked up again, entirely unimpressed. “I’m still waiting for the day.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, quiet but genuine enough that Zuko’s attention shifted toward you at the sound.
Sokka pointed accusingly between the two of you. “See? This is exactly why you both need this.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Need what?”
“The…” Sokka gestured vaguely toward the ceiling, the cabin, the island waiting beyond the windows. “Important political gathering trip.”
“Nothing excites me more than a royal trip,” you replied with exhausting sincerity while finally leaning back in your chair. The movement pulled tension visibly through your shoulders as you closed your eyes for one brief second before opening them again. “Truly. I can already feel myself relaxing.”
Without looking away from the document in his hand, Zuko leaned over just enough to press a quick kiss against your temple before returning his attention to whatever impossibly important report had captured it.
Across the cabin, Sokka opened his mouth to answer, only for Aang to appear suddenly in the doorway behind him with sunlight and sea wind spilling into the room around him.
“We’re here!” he announced brightly. “You should come see this.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
Whaletail Island rose from the sea in sweeping layers of dark volcanic cliffs softened by dense cedar forests and pale ribbons of steam drifting through the mountainside. Sunlight spilled across hanging bridges suspended between narrow stone paths while clusters of wooden cabins disappeared into drifting fog higher along the cliffs.
The entire place looked impossibly peaceful.
Which immediately made you suspicious.
“You picked a very dramatic location for a summit,” Zuko observed beside you, one hand resting at the small of your back while the ship slowed toward the docks below.
Sokka visibly brightened. “Thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
Far beneath the ship, harbor workers moved along the docks while pulley lifts carried supplies toward the retreat overlooking the sea. A few Air Acolytes crossed the upper terraces before disappearing between the trees.
“It’s beautiful,” Katara admitted.
“And isolated,” Toph added approvingly. “I like it already.”
You remained near the railing beside Zuko as the ship finally settled against the docks with a deep groan of wood and steel beneath the waves. Your attention shifted toward the harbor below, instinctively searching for diplomatic ships, royal insignias, or waiting representatives.
“Where are the delegates?”
Aang answered first.
“They’ll probably arrive later.”
Zuko’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
Sokka jumped in right afterward. “Yeah! Diplomats love arriving late. It’s part of being diplomatic.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” you murmured.
Before either you or Zuko could press further, Katara stepped smoothly between all of you.
“Why don’t we at least settle in first?” she suggested. “We’ve been traveling for hours.”
There wasn’t much room to argue after hours at sea. Judging by the tension still drawn through Zuko’s shoulders, he knew it too.
Eventually, after entirely too much unloading, Appa complaining loudly while being guided toward the upper terraces, and Sokka somehow nearly falling directly into the harbor within the first ten minutes of arrival, the group finally reached the retreat itself.
The cabins rested high above the cliffs where sea wind moved constantly through the surrounding cedar trees. Steam drifted across the stone walkways connecting the buildings while shallow volcanic streams ran beneath narrow wooden bridges.
Directly in the center of the retreat stood the largest cabin of all. Painted near the entrance in elegant gold lettering were the words:
THE SHINY BUG.
You stopped walking.
“…why is it called that?”
Sokka looked deeply, profoundly proud of himself already.
“Isn’t it majestic?”
Zuko stared at the sign for a long moment before continuing toward the entrance without changing expression.
“I already want to leave.”
The cabin itself was beautiful.
Warm cedar walls framed an enormous central living space centered around a sunken sitting area layered with cushions and low tables already set with tea, fruit, and enough food to feed Appa twice over. Tall windows overlooked the ocean below while soft amber light flickered across the room.
For one moment, everyone seemed uncertain what to do next.
Your friends had clearly expected relief, or relaxation, maybe even gratitude. Instead, the second you and Zuko sat down, both of you reached automatically for work again out of pure instinct.
You had barely unrolled another scroll when Zuko finally spoke without looking up from his own.
“We should probably review the delegate list again once they arrive.”
“Mm.” You nodded distractedly while reaching for a brush. “And if the Northern representatives are attending, we still need to discuss the harbor proposal before tomorrow.”
Around the room, the rest of the Gaang visibly deflated.
Toph groaned loudly enough for it to echo against the ceiling beams.
“Oh, for rock’s sake. They brought the stress with them.”
Aang had just opened his mouth to respond when a loud crash suddenly sounded somewhere deeper inside the cabin.
Zuko was on his feet before the noise fully settled, fire flashing sharply to life across one hand while sparks danced instinctively at your own fingertips beside him. Across the room, Katara bent water from her cup into a suspended ribbon while Toph planted one bare foot against the floorboards, expression sharpening beneath the vibrations traveling through the cabin. Even Aang straightened, air stirring uneasily around his sleeves. Meanwhile, Sokka grabbed a decorative serving tray like it might somehow function as a weapon.
“Who’s there?” Zuko snapped.
“Come out,” you added, pulse jumping as another loud clatter sounded near the kitchen.
Sokka yelped somewhere behind you. “WHY DOES THE SHINY BUG HAVE INTRUDERS?”
A cabinet door swung shut.
“…you’re all very tense.”
Suki stepped casually out from the kitchen holding a bowl of fruit in one hand and what looked suspiciously like ice cream in the other.
Katara burst into laughter.
Sokka nearly collapsed against the nearest table in relief. “SPIRITS, SUKI.”
“What?” she asked innocently while stealing a piece of fruit from the bowl. “I got hungry.”
Despite everything, warmth spread through your chest at the sight of her. Nearby, Aang grinned while Katara crossed the room to hug her properly, and even Toph looked noticeably less annoyed than usual.
Meanwhile, Sokka looked seconds away from emotionally combusting.
“You brought ice cream?” he asked, staring at the bowl in Suki’s hand like she had descended from the spirits themselves.
Suki smirked faintly before holding out the spoon toward him. “I know what matters in a crisis.”
Sokka accepted the bite with alarming sincerity. “You understand me on a spiritual level.”
Laughing under her breath, Suki caught the front of his tunic and pulled him down just enough to press a quick kiss against his cheek before he could keep talking.
Suki finally noticed both you and Zuko still standing there fully prepared for combat and straightened at once, lowering the bowl slightly before offering a respectful bow.
“My lord. My lady.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you sighed, crossing the room toward her. “Come here!”
You pulled her into a quick embrace before she could protest while behind you, Zuko extinguished the fire still flickering across his hand.
“What are you doing here?” you asked once you pulled back, suspicion already returning.
Suki blinked once.
“Oh,” she answered casually. “Just joining your rest time!”
You slowly lowered your arms.
“Our what?”
From somewhere behind you, Toph muttered, “Uh oh.”
Sokka moved first.
In his rush forward, he nearly slipped on the edge of one of the cushions, catching himself awkwardly against the low table hard enough to rattle half the teacups while still clutching Suki’s ice cream spoon in one hand.
“No one said rest time,” he said quickly, waving the spoon vaguely through the air while panic spread visibly across his face. “Nobody said that. Weird phrase, honestly. Maybe it’s like… a Kyoshi Warrior expression. Right, Suki?”
Beside him, Suki looked genuinely fascinated by how aggressively he was unraveling.
“Uhhh…”
“Sokka,” you said.
He straightened so fast it almost looked painful, nearly dropping the spoon before hastily hiding it behind his back.
“Yes, your ladyship?” he asked nervously, shoulders pulling tighter the moment you crossed your arms.
“Give us the information sheet.”
For one brief second, Sokka looked like he was seriously reconsidering his earlier evacuation plan involving Appa. Beside him, Suki pressed her lips together hard enough to hide a laugh. With deep resignation, he reached into his satchel and carefully handed over the page he had been “rewriting” aboard the ship earlier.
Zuko took the page first while you leaned closer to read over his shoulder. The room gradually fell silent as both of your eyes moved down the document.
Most of it was complete nonsense.
Half the page read like Sokka had attempted to recreate an official summit proposal entirely from memory after sustaining a head injury. Still, buried between badly phrased diplomatic jargon and several aggressively underlined words, there were just enough believable details about Whaletail Island’s harbor restoration and coastal trade routes to explain how this disaster had managed to fool you for several hours.
Then, halfway down the page, your eyes caught the name of the summit:
Southern
Oceanic
Knowledge
Assembly
You looked very slowly toward Sokka.
“We were supposed to believe we’d been invited to an event whose initials spell… SOKA?” Zuko asked, lifting the page slightly between two fingers like perhaps distance alone would make it less ridiculous.
Toph made one strangled noise before dissolving into laughter.
“You even missed a K, genius,” you said flatly.
Across the room, Katara dragged both hands down her face.
“I mean, it worked until now, you actually believed it—” Sokka started quickly, only to falter the moment your expression hardened further.
He raised both hands in surrender. “I panicked under pressure!”
Beside you, Zuko continued staring at the page in silence. Slowly, the last traces of humor disappeared from his expression. His thumb pressed harder against the edge of the paper until it bent slightly beneath the force while his eyes traced once more across the absurdly written title.
“You made us waste our time and come here?”
“It wasn’t just me!” Sokka defended, pointing wildly around the room. “It was a group effort!”
Zuko stood abruptly.
The movement was sharp enough to send several nearby scrolls sliding across the low table while the untouched tea beside them rippled inside its cup. He dropped the paper beside it with visible restraint, though the sound still landed harder than it should have inside the sudden silence of the cabin.
That kind of restraint was never a good sign. Not with Zuko.
“Zuko—”
Without another word, he turned and strode out.The cabin shook with the force of the slammed door.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
By the time all of you stepped outside, the ocean wind had turned colder.
Farther below, attendants still moved back and forth from the harbor lifts carrying royal trunks, scroll cases, and ceremonial robes toward the upper cabins completely unaware that the summit they were preparing for did not actually exist.
Zuko had stopped near the edge of the main terrace overlooking the cliffs below, one hand braced against the railing while the sea crashed endlessly beneath him.
“This is ridiculous,” he said the moment the rest of you approached. He turned sharply, whatever restraint he’d been holding onto finally snapping. “Do you have any idea how much we left behind to come here? How many things are waiting for us back home while we stand on this island for a summit that doesn’t even exist? And all of you just stood there laughing.”
“Nobody was laughing at you,” Aang tried carefully.
“You forged diplomatic documents.”
“You barely read them!” Sokka blurted out before visibly regretting it.
Katara closed her eyes. “Sokka.”
“What? It’s true!”
Zuko stared at him in complete disbelief. “That’s supposed to help your argument?”
“No, actually,” Sokka admitted quickly, “that one got away from me.”
You crossed your arms tightly against your chest, irritation still burning hot beneath your skin as the cold mountain breeze lifted strands of hair around your face. “You could’ve just asked us to come.”
“And you would’ve said yes?” Katara asked.
The question caught harder than you expected, your first instinct had been to answer at once.
But somewhere between palace schedules, council meetings, and waking before sunrise beside Zuko only to spend entire days separated by responsibilities before collapsing into bed exhausted long after midnight, you realized you genuinely couldn’t remember the last time either of you had agreed to rest.
The ocean roared faintly beneath the cliffs while familiar faces watched you from across the terrace: Katara watching carefully, Aang trying very hard not to look guilty, Suki lingering near the steps with her arms crossed loosely, and Toph leaning comfortably against one of the wooden posts with the sort of expression that suggested she already knew exactly what everyone in the group was feeling.
“We didn’t do this because we thought it would be funny,” Katara said finally. “We did it because every time we see you lately, you both look exhausted.”
“You barely sleep,” Aang added. “And when you do, you’re still working.”
“You answer council messages during dinner,” Toph said.
“We are very busy,” Zuko said.
Katara exchanged a look with Aang before turning back toward Zuko.
“That’s… exactly the problem,” she said, lifting a brow.
Your frustration didn’t disappear all at once. It still sat there stubbornly beneath your ribs, tangled together with embarrassment and irritation and the absurdity of standing on an island because Sokka had forged a summit named after himself. Looking at them now, it became impossible not to see how carefully this entire disaster had actually been planned.
The fact that all of them had crossed half the world to orchestrate this ridiculous scheme because somewhere along the way they had started worrying about you, about both of you… Suddenly the whole thing felt less like a prank and more like a desperate attempt from people who missed their friends.
However, Zuko still looked furious.
“I have to work hard because I’m the Fire Lord,” he said, pacing away from the railing before turning back again. “I’m supposed to fix. I cannot keep disappearing every time people decide I look tired.”
“You’re not disappearing,” Aang said carefully. “You’re resting.”
Zuko laughed once under his breath, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “You say that like the world politely pauses while I do.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Katara answered, her expression softening as she looked between both of you. “But somewhere along the way, it started feeling like you two forgot you’re people before titles.”
Behind him, heat rippled unevenly through the terrace braziers as he turned back toward the others.
“We’re leaving.” His gaze moved toward the attendants still unloading belongings farther below. “Stop carrying everything up and bring it back to the ship.”
A few attendants paused mid-step.
Zuko reached for your hand instinctively after years beside each other, his fingers curling firmly around yours as he turned to leave with every expectation that you would follow him without hesitation.
You didn’t move, and the resistance stopped him short.
Surprise crossed his face as he turned back toward you, your joined hands still caught between you. You stepped a little closer instead, tightening your grip around his hand instead of letting go.
“It isn’t wise to travel back now,” you said, lowering your voice now that you stood closer to him. “The sea paths are darker after sunset, and the fog near the cliffs will only worsen overnight.”
His jaw tightened.
“And although I understand why you’re angry,” you continued, thumb brushing once against the back of his hand, “they didn’t do this to mock us.”
Behind you, the group remained suspiciously silent, all of them pretending not to stare while very obviously staring.
“We should stay until tomorrow morning at least,” you finished.
Zuko looked at you for a long moment, frustration still written plainly across his expression, though no longer burning quite as sharply as before.
He looked away before loosening his grip on your hand.
“…fine,” he muttered at last.
Toph grinned immediately. “The rest of us almost died and she got him down with one sentence...”
Sokka cleared his throat.
“So. Hypothetically speaking. How opposed are we to group activities?”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
The back terrace behind the cabin overlooked the cliffs directly, quieter than the rest of the retreat below. Stacks of firewood rested beside the enormous stone firepit at the center of the terrace, and half-unpacked crates filled with blankets, decorations, and cooking supplies had been left scattered near the steps after Sokka insisted the attendants leave the rest to them.
Katara had decided this meant everyone should “make themselves useful.”
Which was how Sokka and Aang conveniently vanished while Katara ended up hanging lights along the cedar beams overhead, guiding each hook neatly into place with small currents of water. Loose strands of hair kept escaping around her face whenever the wind shifted too sharply. Nearby, Suki balanced effortlessly along the railing bordering the terrace, passing decorations down one by one with the kind of ease that made it seem physically impossible for her to ever lose balance. Toph remained sprawled across one of the benches beside the firepit, contributing absolutely nothing.
You found yourself caught somewhere in the middle of all of it: stacking blankets near the firepit, steadying swaying decorations whenever the wind threatened to pull them sideways again, and trying very hard not to think too much about the argument from earlier.
Above the terrace, unnoticed entirely, the upper balcony doors slid open overhead. Zuko stepped outside intending only to clear his head for a moment, until he heard your laugh below him.
“For the record,” Suki said, “most Fire Ladies probably don’t carry firewood.”
You bent to grab another log from beside the firepit, brushing sawdust from your hands against your robes afterward. “Most Fire Ladies probably don’t get kidnapped into fake summits named after Sokka.”
Suki laughed as she stepped back down onto the terrace stones. “Okay, that’s fair enough.”
Toph stretched lazily across the bench with her arms folded behind her head.
“You know, Toph,” Katara called while adjusting another hanging light overhead with a curl of water, “earthbending the wood closer would actually be helpful.”
Toph tilted her head in her direction. “I’m not intending to be helpful. I’m supervising.”
You glanced over your shoulder at her while setting another blanket beside the firepit. “Remarkable leadership strategy. Truly inspiring for the nation.”
Suki nearly doubled over laughing while Katara looked away with obvious surrender.
“There it is!” Suki said at once, pointing accusingly at you as she leaned against the railing. “That terrifying Fire Lady voice.”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You absolutely have one now. And the stare too.”
Katara nodded without hesitation. “It’s true.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” Suki insisted, grinning. “With Toph just now. And earlier with Sokka? You looked ready to exile him from the nation.”
Toph tilted her head thoughtfully from the bench. “Respect.”
“That wasn’t intentional,” you defended, though the laughter in your voice ruined most of the argument.
Katara shook her head fondly. “We haven’t seen that expression in years.”
“Oh, spirits,” you sighed.
“No, it’s not bad,” Suki assured, sidestepping in front of you. “Do the scary Fire Lady thing again.”
“I’m not performing for you.”
“Boring.”
You scoffed and sent a quick spark skidding toward the edge of her boot.
Suki dodged with a laugh. “Oh, so now we’re bending at each other…”
Katara pointed a warning finger between both of you while another lantern floated beside her shoulder. “No fire near anything hanging overhead.”
You opened your mouth to defend yourself right as one of the hooks overhead snapped loose with a sharp crack.
The lantern tipped sideways at once. Katara reacted first, pulling water upward from the nearby volcanic stream in a quick arc meant to catch it before it hit the floor. Toph reacted second. The stone beneath the lantern shot upward beneath her bending, knocking it safely back into the air directly toward you.
You caught it instinctively, fire blooming between your hands just enough to keep the flame inside from dying out. Heat spread across your palms as the lantern spun once before the dangling cords tangled immediately around your wrists.
Suki had to grab the railing to steady herself through another burst of laughter.
“Agni, help me...”
“If only the council could see the Fire Lady now,” Katara managed through her own laughter while unsuccessfully trying to untangle one of the cords.
Suki grinned wickedly. “I have a feeling Zuko would love this view.”
“If he hasn’t seen it before,” Toph added.
“Oh, shut up—”
Embarrassment flared through your bending before you could stop it. The cords blackened beneath a burst of heat far stronger than intended.
“You’re hot…” Suki started to say, only for her eyes to widen. “Wait—”
The edge of the lantern suddenly caught fire. A second later, part of your sleeve ignited too, flames racing upward fast enough to send immediate panic across your face.
“You’re on fire!” Katara shouted.
“I CAN SEE THAT!”
Suki lunged toward you, smacking at the flames climbing the lantern while laughing far too hard to be genuinely useful.
“STOP MOVING.”
“I’m not moving!”
Katara pulled water upward from the nearby stream in a narrow twisting current before sending it crashing toward the burning lantern to stop the flames from spreading across the beams.
Suki turned just in time to realize she was directly in the path of it. The wave crashed into both of you hard enough to steal the breath from your lungs.
Suki let out a startled shriek while you sputtered hard enough to nearly lose hold of the lantern, water streaming down your hair and soaking through the front of your robes as the last traces of smoke curled weakly from your sleeve.
Toph had to brace one hand against the bench through another fit of laughter.
“This,” she declared between helpless cackles, “is the best vacation I’ve ever had.”
“You’re not helping!” Katara protested, though by now she was laughing almost as hard herself while water splashed uselessly across the floor.
Toph lifted her chin from where she leaned against the bench, sounding far too confident for everyone else’s comfort.
“I can help.”
You barely had time to turn toward her before she tilted her head in your direction.
“Extend your arms.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Trust me and do as I say.”
The instant your sleeves lifted, the stone beneath the terrace answered her bending with a sharp grinding crack. A narrow slab of volcanic tile shot upward between all of you in one clean movement, slicing neatly through the still-burning cords before the flames could spread farther across the beams.
Another section of stone rose beside Katara at the same time, Toph clearly trying to stop the burning lantern from crashing directly onto her.
The entire terrace tilted with it, the floor tilting sideways hard enough to throw everyone off balance.
Suki slipped first on the soaked terrace boards, grabbing your shoulders as her footing vanished beneath her. The motion yanked you sideways just as Katara lunged forward to catch both of you.
“Careful with the pregnant one!” Suki yelped as Katara nearly collided into both of you trying to stop the fall.
Your own footing disappeared a second later. For one horrifying instant, the soaked boards rushed up beneath you before the earth shifted beneath the impact. Toph’s bending rippled through the stone fast enough to soften the ground before any of you hit it. Mud surged upward in a thick uneven mound that caught all three of you in one thoroughly undignified heap instead of against the hard volcanic stone.
You landed first with a startled noise half swallowed by laughter, Suki collapsing sideways beneath you while Katara tumbled into both of you moments later hard enough to send muddy water splashing across the floor.
Mud streaked across Katara’s sleeves and cheek, loose strands of hair plastered against her face. Suki’s dark hair clung damply to her neck and shoulders while muddy water soaked through the front of her clothes. Your own sleeve remained singed at the cuff beneath fresh smears of mud across your hands and knees.
Suki rolled onto her back beside you, breathless with laughter. She pushed wet hair from her forehead.
“Technically speaking…” she managed between breaths, “the fire’s out.”
You stared upward at the swaying lanterns for one disbelieving second before the realization hit you all at once.
“I could’ve literally just put it out myself,” you gasped, laughing hard enough your stomach hurt as you covered part of your face with one muddy hand. “What even happened? You’re all insane!”
“Says the woman married to Zuko,” Toph shot back, sending all of you into a round of laughter.
Eventually, the laughter softened into smiles and breathless sighs, the kind of quiet closeness that only existed between people who had known each other long enough to survive embarrassment together.
“You have no idea how much I missed this,” you admitted after a while, turning your head enough to look at all of them sprawled across the mud beside you. “And all of you.”
Katara reached across the mud between you to squeeze your hand once.
“We missed you too.”
Warmth spread through your chest so suddenly it almost hurt. Without thinking, you leaned sideways into them, and Katara and Suki shifted closer too, arms wrapping loosely around you in a tangled mess of damp robes, muddy sleeves, and lingering laughter.
Above you, Toph made a dramatic sound of disgust from the bench.
“I might be blind,” she informed the night air, “but I can absolutely tell you’re hugging.”
Suki lifted her head. “You should join.”
“Absolutely not.”
Katara grinned. “Toph…”
“No. I already know you all look emotional. I don’t need to experience it physically too.”
You laughed. “Come here!”
Toph crossed her arms stubbornly for approximately three seconds before releasing an enormous sigh.
“I guess,” she said reluctantly, “if I accidentally fell on top of all of you because I can’t see where I’m going, that would technically be acceptable.”
Before anyone could stop her, Toph planted one bare foot against the bench and launched herself forward with no hesitation.
She landed fully across the group with enough force to nearly knock the breath from your lungs while muddy water splashed across the grass. Katara collapsed into horrified laughter beside you, Suki wheezing so hard she could barely breathe while one of Toph’s elbows dug directly into your ribs.
“TOPH!”
“What?” Toph asked innocently from somewhere in the middle of the pile. “I fell.”
“You elbowed me!”
Katara laughed so hard she nearly curled into herself again while you clung helplessly to all of them, breathless beneath the stars.
After a moment, Suki lifted her head slightly from where she’d half collapsed against Katara’s shoulder.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “this feels like a great moment to tell us the baby’s name.”
Katara blinked at her. “What part of this situation says name reveal time to you?”
“Think about it,” Suki insisted. “The baby could have a meaningful name inspired by tonight.”
“Muddy,” Toph suggested immediately.
“Mud-tara,” Suki added.
“Mudpie,” you offered weakly through another laugh.
Katara groaned into her hands while the rest of you lost control again.
“You’ll know the name when Aang and I are ready.”
You reached over to grab her hand dramatically. “As long as you don’t name the baby something spelling AANG, I think we’ll survive.”
Toph nearly rolled off the pile laughing.
By then, night had settled fully around the retreat, laughter still carrying faintly through the trees below.
High above the terrace, Zuko stood quietly against the balcony railing overlooking the grounds below. One hand rested loosely against the wood while his gaze remained fixed on you below.
The frustration from earlier still weighed heavily on him, worn raw by days of travel, paperwork, expectations, and responsibilities that never truly released either of you. Yet watching you muddy, breathless, tangled in your friends’ arms while laughter lit up your entire face, eased something in him anyway. Not even the grandest Fire Nation celebrations or the most carefully planned palace entertainments had ever drawn a smile from you quite like this one.
Zuko could no longer look at the retreat as time stolen from his duties, and finally began to understand what the others had been trying to give both of you all along.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
“What are you looking at?”
Your voice pulled Zuko from whatever thoughts had held his attention beyond the balcony doors. He turned, shoulders still carrying traces of the tension from earlier.
His gaze dropped to your dirt-stained robes.
Yours followed a second later.
“… I asked first,” you said.
You stepped farther into the room, moving behind the folding screen beside the bed, already pulling apart the ruined layers of your clothes.
“The moon,” he answered simply after a moment.
You heard the lid of one of the travel chests open at the foot of the bed.
A laugh escaped you from behind the screen while fabric rustled around you. “The moon?” you repeated in disbelief. “It’s worse than I thought. Fire Lord Zuko driven to moon-gazing by sheer irritation.” You paused. “Would you mind—oh. Thank you.”
Your nightgown appeared neatly draped over the top of the screen before you could finish asking.
“I think the moon is beautiful,” he said while crossing somewhere behind the screen, his footsteps against the wooden floorboards. “Don’t tell Sokka that, though.”
Another laugh escaped you while slipping the nightgown over your head.
“How have you found this… whole thing?” Zuko asked after a moment.
“The retreat?” you asked, stepping out in your nightgown and moving toward the vanity near the door. You dragged a brush through your freshly washed hair while he disappeared behind the screen to change in turn.
“And the betrayal.”
His tone remained serious enough that you had to bite back another laugh.
“First of all, I like this place,” you said, reaching for one of the incense sticks resting atop the vanity and lighting it with a flick of your finger before setting it carefully into the holder beside the mirror, “What they’ve done with Whaletail Island is beautiful. Honestly, I regret not coming sooner.”
You turned just as he stepped fully back into the room, dark hair still slightly damp around his face while thin ribbons of incense smoke drifted through the space between you.
“As for what you insist on calling betrayal…” Your lips curved faintly. “I think it deserves another name.” You held his gaze, standing from the vanity. “And I think this is highly necessary, Zuko.”
To your surprise, he nodded.
He crossed the room and lowered himself onto his usual side of the bed before patting the empty space beside him.
The gesture surprised you enough that you hesitated before walking over and settling beside him atop the blankets. The mattress dipped beneath your weight.
His hand settled over yours where it rested against your stomach.
“I… think so too.”
Your head turned toward him fast enough to pull the beginning of a smile from him.
“What?”
“I think they were right.”
You stared at him in complete alarm before leaning closer onto your knees and pressing the back of your hand against his forehead.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
He laughed.
Which somehow worried you more.
“Zuko, this is serious—”
You grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together until his lips puckered awkwardly.
“I’m going to call Katara. Maybe she can heal whatever this is.”
His eyes narrowed into slits beneath your hands before he caught both your wrists and pulled you forward. The movement sent you falling halfway across him with a startled laugh, your hands trapped loosely behind his head while his own hands found your waist to steady you.
“Don’t be ridiculous, my lady,” he murmured, though the smile lingering across his face made the title sound softer than teasing.
This close, you could see he truly meant it. His thumb moved absently against your waist beneath the fabric of your nightgown.
“I think…” He exhaled, staring somewhere past you for a moment. “I’ve been so focused on keeping everything together that I stopped noticing how exhausted you are too. And maybe I’ve been unfair about this trip. But you deserve to be happy. Spirits know we both needed to step away before this became too much.”
His golden eyes lifted back to yours.
“And…” he added after a beat, “I suppose I appreciate the others trying to take care of us. Even if Sokka’s methods are questionable.”
You smiled.
“And I think,” he continued with visible reluctance at admitting any of this aloud, “that maybe I needed this too.”
You pressed your nose lightly against his. When you opened your eyes again, he was already watching you.
One of your hands eased from his grasp to rest gently against his cheek.
“You don’t know how much I appreciate hearing you say that,” you whispered. “And how much you’ll appreciate it too.” Your thumb traced the edge of his scar. “I’m exhausted, Zuko. And don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change being the Fire Lady at your side for anything. But we’re constantly under pressure. Even if it’s understandable… we’re still allowed to rest. We matter too.”
As the words left your lips, Zuko looked entirely defenseless against whatever he felt for you. He would have damned Agni himself before waiting another second to kiss you.
One hand rose to your jaw as he leaned down, capturing your lips with a kind of desperation that made your chest ache. You kissed all the time, it was nearly impossible not to when you had a husband like him, but somewhere between royal meetings, traveling schedules, and interrupted mornings, kisses like this had become rare.
It tasted different, sweeter somehow, not because the island was beautiful or the night was warm, but because for the first time in far too long, neither of you seemed to be waiting for the next obligation to pull you apart. There was no pressure lingering behind the touch, no expectation beyond simply being together, and somehow that made the kiss feel more consuming than any you had shared in months.
Your fingers slipped into his hair while his hand spread wider against your waist, pulling you closer against him as though he’d been waiting far too long to hold you properly again.
You smiled against his lips when you finally pulled back enough to breathe again.
“So…” you murmured, unable to hide your excitement, “does this mean we’ll participate in the activities Sokka planned tomorrow?”
Zuko rolled his eyes, yet the smile tugging at his mouth ruined any attempt at annoyance.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
Your expression lit up so quickly it made him laugh.
Before he could react, you kissed him again. And again. And once more after that until his laugh disappeared against your mouth while your hands pushed lightly at the collar of his night robes. His hands slid to steady you as you climbed fully atop him.
“If this is the result of Sokka’s dumb decisions,” he muttered as your lips trailed distractedly along his jaw, “I might owe him one.”
You laughed softly against his chest before lifting your head again, fingers wandering lower across warm skin beneath the loosened fabric.
“Careful,” you warned. “You’re starting to sound forgiving.”
“Maybe he—”
“THAT WAS A WARNING SHOT, SUKI!”
The shout rang through the terrace loudly enough to make both of you freeze. A heartbeat later came Suki’s unimpressed voice.
“You dropped the fish before throwing it, genius!”
Then came a loud splash from somewhere below the balcony, followed by Sokka’s yell.
“MY SANDALS!”
You buried your face against Zuko’s chest laughing while he stared at the ceiling in complete disbelief.
“I’ll just close the balcony doors,” you managed between laughs, climbing reluctantly off him.
Zuko let out a long, deeply offended grunt at the loss of contact.
“Never mind,” he declared. “Not forgiven. Enemy number one.”
Still laughing, you moved back toward your side of the bed after shutting the doors. You barely made it halfway across the mattress before he tugged you straight back against him, rolling you beneath him this time.
“No,” he said firmly, settling over you with unmistakable intent. “You come back here.”
His mouth brushed yours once more.
“Now… where were we?”
Part 2.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
note: im so happy with this oneee, cannot wait for your to read the next parts! huge shoutout to @magnificentlyrainythunder for the request that inspired me ♡ - lmk what you think, and if you want to be tagged in part 2&3! Xx
i woke up just in time (now i wake up by your side).
(‘only bought this dress so you could take it off’ — extra. can be read as a standalone.)
adult zuko x reader | contains smut | minors dni. | wc: 4,2k
summary: in which zuko escapes his own engagement banquet to remind you that after years of longing, stolen glances and pretending neither of you noticed what was happening between you, he’s finally allowed to love you openly, and intends to enjoy every second of it.
content: adult!zuko x reader, friends to lovers, newly engaged, emotional intimacy, soft humor, gaang cameo, mutual pining payoff, explicit sexual content, praise/worship, fluff, tooth-rotting tenderness.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The engagement banquet had become something far larger than either of you intended.
What had originally been meant as a formal announcement to the court somehow transformed into one of the liveliest celebrations the royal palace had seen in years. Soft music echoed beneath curved ceilings while friends, diplomats and honored guests gathered shoulder to shoulder through the royal hall, servants weaving between crowded tables with wine and steaming platters.
Aang had nearly crushed the both of you in another hug sometime after the official announcement reached the banquet hall, smiling so brightly it seemed impossible not to mirror it.
“I still can’t believe this is real,” he admitted happily.
“You watched him propose,” you pointed out.
“I know, but now there are decorations!”
Katara chuckled at his side, then seamlessly redirected her attention to you both with an affectionate look.
“I’m so happy for you two.”
You smiled knowingly. “Happy or proud of your matchmaking skills?”
“Definitely both,” she admitted. “Do you know how exhausting it was watching the two of you dance around this for years?”
“In my defense,” Zuko muttered, “I was dealing with several international crises.”
“And somehow flirting was the one thing capable of defeating the Fire Lord,” Toph remarked as she wandered over holding onto Sokka’s arm, a cup balancing in her free hand.
Only then did you notice the aggressively oversized wrapped box tucked beneath his other arm.
“To commemorate the occasion,” Sokka announced proudly.
You stared at it with caution. “Why does it look dangerous?”
“It’s not dangerous.”
The box rattled ominously.
“…Sokka.”
“It only explodes a little.”
Katara looked horrified. “Sokka!”
“What? Fire Nation people love explosions!”
“We do not gift explosive materials at engagement celebrations,” Zuko deadpanned.
Toph leaned over and gave Sokka’s giant, rattling box an appreciative pat with her elbow, nearly spilling her drink. She snorted.
“Relax, Sparky. If it explodes, at least you’ll remember the engagement party.”
“I would like to remember it without structural damage to the palace,” Zuko replied.
“See?” Toph grinned, pointing vaguely in his direction. “He’s already talking like a married man.”
And through all of it; the laughter, the congratulations, the warmth of your friends gathered; you found yourself occasionally stopping just to look around in disbelief.
For so long, happiness had felt fragile around Zuko. Hard-earned and… temporary. Arriving carefully and quietly before disappearing again beneath duty, war, or expectation from others and himself. Tonight, the permanent tension between his shoulders had eased enough to notice, every smile that crossed his face arrived easily instead of restrained the way they once had been.
And every single time you caught him looking at you from across the hall, it felt almost unreal that this was your life now.
Zuko had once mastered the art of pretending. Back then, whenever you caught him staring, he would immediately look elsewhere: toward a servant passing nearby, a council member speaking, a random point across the room. Keeping his feelings hidden if he moved quickly enough.
Now his eyes couldn’t and wouldn’t fake not looking at you. Since the moment the two of you had finally confessed what had hung unsaid between you for years, his eyes had become hopelessly honest. Once his attention found you in a crowded room, it stayed there without shame. He had grown tired of denying himself even something as simple as looking.
And you caught him constantly tonight.
You had just finished enduring a conversation about future royal ceremonies when you noticed it again.
You tilted your head. “Do I have something on my face?” you asked once he finally approached again. “I’d rather my fiancé tell me if that’s the case.”
The word ‘fiancé’ visibly affected him, color rising toward the tips of his ears.
“No,” he answered quickly. “Not at all. You look beautiful.”
The kind of honesty Zuko delivered so naturally couldn’t get tired of stealing the breath from your lungs before you could prepare for it.
Your smile curled at the corners.
“You’ve been looking at me like that all night.”
His attention dipped toward the ring on your hand before returning to your face.
“I like what I see.”
“I suspected as much when you asked me to marry you,” you murmured, stepping close enough for the embroidered fabric of your sleeves to brush together.
You let your hand rest comfortably against the nape of his neck, your thumb lightly tracing the hairline there. His hands found their place on your waist without a second thought.
“You look unfair tonight too,” you admitted.
“Unfair?” He asked, lifting his brow.
“Dangerously so.”
You casually smoothed down the edge of his collar as you spoke.
“It’s making diplomacy very difficult.”
“That explains why the ministers have looked progressively more concerned every time I speak to you.”
You laughed as another cluster of nobles drifted past nearby.
“Well,” you said, glancing briefly toward the crowded hall around you, “what kind of plan shall we make now that I can no longer rescue you from royal responsibilities? We’ll have to endure them together from now on.”
His mouth twitched.
“Should we establish a signal?” you continued thoughtfully. “A sound, perhaps? Something subtle enough to indicate one of us is moments away from political collapse.”
“Tempting,” Zuko admitted as he leaned closer.
“But now that I don’t have to endure this alone anymore,” he whispered beside your ear, “I believe we’re more than entitled to just… leave.”
You blinked. “What?”
His expression remained serious.
“I’m far from being the ideal future Fire Lady,” you said, trying not to laugh, “but even I know that would be considered rude.”
“It is my utter pleasure,” Zuko replied, his grip tightening just a fraction on your waist as he guided you backward, “to introduce you to the art of escaping royal events.”
Movement near the entrance caught your attention. Several Kyoshi Warriors approached through the crowd with ease, green armor gleaming at all times. At their front walked Suki, smiling knowingly the moment she reached you both.
“There you are,” she said, her arms opening into a quick, welcoming embrace. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you, Suki!” You squeezed her hand briefly before letting go.
Suki then turned toward Zuko, who already looked suspiciously unsurprised by her arrival.
“Let us escort you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Why do I suddenly feel like everyone knows something I don’t?”
“That would ruin the surprise!” Suki replied.
“You planned something?” you asked, turning toward Zuko.
“You’ll see…”
The Kyoshi Warriors guided you through quieter palace corridors away from the crowded halls, the sounds of the celebration slowly fading behind you with every turn.
Eventually Suki stopped beside a curved doorway tucked into one of the quieter palace wings.
Your brows lifted slightly. “Where are we—”
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Suki interrupted with unmistakable satisfaction before the Kyoshi Warriors turned and disappeared back down the corridor.
You looked toward Zuko immediately. “That is never a reassuring sentence.”
He only gestured for you to keep walking.
The moment you stepped inside, you stopped.
Pillows and folded blankets had been arranged across the polished floor beside a low dining table already filled with untouched food, tea still warm enough for steam to curl lazily into the air. Several dishes were instantly familiar, small things you had once mentioned liking during travels, desserts from a harbor market in the colonies, fruit glazed in honey exactly the way you preferred it.
“…You did this?”
“It didn’t seem right,” he admitted, “for the whole night to belong to the court.”
You stepped further inside, taking in the sight of the table.
“Oh my spirits,” you laughed softly, reaching toward one of the plates. “Are these—”
“You liked them in the Earth Kingdom.”
You looked up.
“The tea shop near the lower ring,” he continued, watching you. “You spent half an hour insisting they were better than the ones in the capital.”
“Because they were!” You defended, picking up one of the treats.
“You nearly started an argument with the owner defending them…” He walked up behind you, his hand coming to rest gently on the small of your back.
“He insulted my taste.”
Zuko huffed a quiet breath against your hair. “… He said they were too sweet.”
“And they were perfect.” You took a bite to prove your point.
A helpless smile tugged at his mouth.
“I know,” he said,his thumb tracing a small circle through the fabric of your clothes. “You looked very pleased with yourself eating them.”
Your heart nearly stopped at the realization that he remembered something so small simply because it had once made you happy.
Needing to do something before the feeling overwhelmed you entirely, you moved further into the pavilion and lowered yourself onto the cushions beside the table, carefully gathering part of your robes beneath you.
The blankets shifted as you settled, and you patted the cushion next to yours. Zuko watched you before following without hesitation.
You set down the small crumb of your food, your hands hovering over the table as you noticed a completely different dish hidden near the back.
“Oh, that is unfair!”
Zuko looked over at the platter you were pointing to.
“…What?”
“You included these too?”
Arranged near the edge of the table sat a small plate of fire flakes coated lightly in dark chocolate. One of the few desserts Zuko actually liked.
“You always steal them from my plate,” he pointed out, casually leaning his weight onto one hand as he sat beside you.
“Because you pretend not to like sweets and then guard these with your life.”
“That is completely inaccurate.”
“You threatened Sokka with bodily harm last month,” You countered, propping your chin in your hand.
“He touched them with his hands,” he said, rolling his shoulders back defensively.
You stared at him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“That is generally how eating works.”
Without thinking much about it, you reached toward the plate again and broke apart one of the honey-glazed pastries before holding it toward him expectantly.
Zuko looked at it, his gaze dropping to your fingers before rising back to your face.
“You’re feeding me?”
“You remembered my favorite dessert from a tea shop halfway across the Earth Kingdom. Yes, I’m feeding you.”
He leaned in to take the bite, his breath warm against your hand for the brief second it took to claim the pastry. He didn't blink, watching your expression change at the closeness.
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” you told him, keeping your hand resting near his jaw instead of pulling away.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You absolutely do…”
His attention drifted briefly toward your mouth then back upward again, slower, long enough to make you completely forget what you were going to say next.
After finishing the last bite, he reached toward another plate near the center of the table instead.
“Try this.”
You narrowed your eyes when you noticed the dark chocolate-covered fire flakes resting in his palm.
“I tasted one for the first time five years ago and temporarily lost the ability to think.”
“That explains several conversations we’ve had since then.” Zuko said, a faint glint of mischief in his eyes.
You let out a disbelieving laugh. You accepted the sweet suspiciously, taking a careful bite.
The chocolate melted easily, sweet enough to lull you into a false sense of security. Heat bloomed across your tongue so suddenly your hand flew toward the tea beside you. Zuko was already shifting to slide the teapot closer to you, watching your reaction with nothing but a knowing smirk.
“Zuko, that is cruel!” you gasped, fan-waving your hand in front of your mouth.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll survive.”
“I don’t know,” you muttered after another hurried sip of tea, pressing the back of your cool hand against your cheek. “I think I just made contact with my ancestors.”
He tried to muffle a sudden, sharp laugh behind his hand, failing as a wide, boyish smile took over his face.
“My uncle used to hide those from me when I was younger,” he said, the leftover warmth of his laugh smoothing out his voice as he watched you recover. “Apparently I once ate enough of them to breathe fire on accident.”
You turned toward him slowly.
“…On accident?”
“I was ten.”
“That does not answer any part of my concern.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.
“Spirits,” you muttered, unable to stop smiling. You nudged his forearm with your elbow. “You were an actual menace.”
“Still am, according to some council members,” he said, leaning into the contact.
“Mm.” Your knee slid against his beneath the blankets pooled across the cushions. “I can see it.”
Zuko shifted beside you, his hand brushing your shoulder before his arm settled along the cushions behind your back. The space between you disappeared almost without notice, leaving your shoulder pressed solidly against his chest.
Your attention wandered across the table again before returning to him.
“You know,” you confessed in a near-whisper, “for someone who spent years pretending to be emotionally unavailable, you’ve become dangerously sentimental.”
“Don’t spread that around,” he replied, his breath stirring the stray hairs near your ear.
“Too late,” You reached up absentmindedly to smooth a crease near the collar of his robes, fingers lingering there instead of pulling away. “I’m telling everyone.”
“Traitor.”
“Future wife, actually.”
Zuko’s chest stopped moving as he held his breath. The pavilion suddenly felt very small.
He glanced down at your hand still curled against the front of his robes, his fingers closing gently around your wrist, thumb moving across the ring he had placed there only days before. He turned your hand in his, pressing a kiss against the ring resting on your finger as though he still couldn’t quite believe it belonged there.
Your eyes drifted shut when he leaned forward just enough for his forehead to rest briefly against yours.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured.
“Future wife?”
“Yes.”
The warmth of his voice brushed against your mouth now instead of your ear.
“Does it make you nervous?”, you inquired.
“No…”
One of his hands slid from your wrist to your waist before pulling you across the cushions and onto his lap with an ease that caught in your throat.
“It makes it very difficult to think about anything else.”
Your fingers curled more firmly into the fabric as your foreheads brushed together, every exhale shared in the quiet space.
“Zu—”
He kissed you before you could finish saying his name.
The kiss deepened before either of you could think to pull back. Your fingers twisted into the collar of his tunic, dragging him closer until there was no space left between your chests, until you could feel the rapid thud of his heart hammering through the silk.
The sound that escaped him vibrated against your lips, one hand sliding up your spine to cradle the back of your head while the other pressed flat against your lower back, molding you against him. The cushions shifted beneath your weight as he adjusted, angling his mouth over yours to lick along the seam of your lips. You opened for him without hesitation, and the heat of his tongue against yours sent a shiver straight down to your core.
“You have no idea how difficult it was pretending to listen to council members tonight,” he admitted.
You smiled against his mouth. “Let me guess. Because of me?”
“Entirely because of you.”
You answered by pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, just enough to make him gasp, and then you kissed him again before he could say anything else. The playfulness from earlier bled into something hungrier and urgent. His hands roamed with slowness at first, tracing the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the bare skin of your thigh where your dress had ridden up.
He pulled back just far enough to look at you, eyes dark and half-lidded, firelight catching the edges of his scar. “Tell me what you want.”
You laughed breathlessly when his thumb brushed higher against your thigh.
“You ask that like you don’t already know...”
The world tilted as he laid you down, his body following, caging you in with arms braced on either side of your head. The weight of him pressed you into the softness beneath.
He kissed you again as his hand wandered down your side, slipping under the hem of your dress. Your fingers slipped briefly trying to untangle a layer of his formal robes.
“Who designed these?” you muttered against his mouth in frustration.
Zuko kissed the corner of your lips. “I’ll have them arrested tomorrow.”
He kissed you again before you could answer, slower, his hand shifting the heavy layers of silk completely out of the way as he pinned you down. His knuckles traced the edge of your underwear.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured against your jaw, pressing a kiss to the hollow behind your ear. “Spirits…”
His hand tightened briefly against your thigh.
“I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
His words made you arch into him instinctively, fingers slipping into his hair.
“You’ve had me for years,” you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “You’re simply allowed to say it now…”
Zuko swore beneath his breath before dipping his head to suck a mark into the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs in a single motion. The cool air hit your wetness and you shivered, but then his hand was sliding between your thighs, fingers parting your folds with reverent care. He didn’t rush. He explored, tracing your shape, learning the way your hips jerked when he found the sensitive nub at your center.
“Zuko,” you breathed, voice breaking.
“I know,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours.
He shifted, freeing himself from his trousers with a hurried grace born of too many nights imagining this. The tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, slick with your desire, and he paused.
“Look at me,” he said.
You did. His gold eyes burned with something fierce and tender all at once.
“I want to see you...”
He pushed in.
The stretch was slow, inch by inch until he was seated fully inside you, and the feeling of being so completely filled made your eyes flutter closed. He stayed still, letting you adjust, letting the sensation settle over both of you like a shared breath.
“Spirits—” His forehead dropped briefly against yours as though he needed a second to recover. “You feel incredible.”
You opened your eyes and wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him deeper. “Zuko… please…”
“What?” He asked, clearly willing to give you absolutely anything in the world.
“Move.”
And so he did.
The first few thrusts were gentle, a rocking rhythm that built a steady coil of heat in your belly. His mouth never left yours, messy kisses that mingled with the sounds of skin against skin. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his flesh as the pace quickened.
But he was watching you. Every shift of expression, every bitten-off moan. He saw the way your lips parted, the way your back arched, the way your eyes rolled back when he angled his hips just so.
“There?” he asked, thrusting again.
“Don’t stop.”
The sound that left him at your response was somewhere between a groan and your name. You pulled him down into another kiss, half desperate and half smiling when his rhythm turned sharper, harder, his hips slapping against yours with wet, obscene sounds that filled the quiet room.
“Do you remember,” you breathed against his mouth, “when you couldn’t even look at me for longer than five seconds?”
Zuko kissed you harder, one hand tightening at your waist.
“… I was… trying to survive.”
The memory hit you so suddenly you had to hide your grin against his mouth.
“You were terrible at it.”
“I know.”
The fire crackled nearby, but you were beyond noticing anything except the weight of him, the heat, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
“I want to feel you coming undone around me,” he said, hand sliding between your bodies to press against your clit.
The combination of his thrusts and his fingers sent you hurtling over the edge. You cried out, clenching around him as the orgasm rippled through you, and he groaned at the sensation, burying his face in your neck as he kept moving, riding you through it.
When the aftershocks subsided, he slowed, but didn’t stop.
“No,” he murmured against your skin when you tried to catch your breath. “Not finished with you yet.”
He pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty, before placing his hands on your waist to guide you around. He tugged you back until you were kneeling between his thighs, your back flush against his front. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his cock slid between your thighs from behind, nestling against your wet folds before he guided himself back inside.
This position when kneeling together, bodies stacked, every inch of contact maximized, let him reach deeper than before. His chest was a furnace against your spine. He buried his face in the curve of your neck, one hand splayed across your stomach while the other played with your clit.
“You feel me?” he whispered against your neck. The slow roll of his hips fractured your response into a broken sigh. “You feel so good like this.”
You could only moan, your hands gripping the blankets in front of you as he rocked into you, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids with each push and made you tighten around him.
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Just like that—”
He increased the pressure against your clit, matching the pace of his hips to the circles of his fingers while his mouth moved against your ear between broken breaths.
“You feel so perfect.”
Another slow thrust pulled a helpless sound from your throat.
“I’m never getting tired of this,” he admitted. His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I could spend the rest of my life like this.”
You tightened around him involuntarily.
“… That can be arranged.”
The second orgasm crashed over you like a wave, harder than the first, and you sobbed his name as you tightened around him. That was all he needed. Your name fell from his mouth unevenly as he came, spilling hot inside you with a shudder that shook his entire body.
His arms stayed locked around you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your damp skin.Slowly, he softened inside you, but he didn’t pull out. Instead, he eased you both down onto your sides, curling around your back like a second skin.
The blankets were tangled beneath you, the fire had burned low, and the world outside the room had vanished.
He kissed the back of your neck, your shoulder, the shell of your ear, his arm resting heavily over your waist. The heat of his body seeped into yours, and you felt the last traces of tension drain away, replaced by a deep, bone-tired contentment.
Neither of you seemed particularly interested in moving.
Somewhere outside the pavilion walls, distant music from the banquet still drifted through the palace.
You let out a tired sound against the cushions. “Do you think they noticed we disappeared?”
His lips brushed lazily against your shoulder. “Eventually.”
You huffed quietly, sinking further back against his chest while your fingers played absently with the edge of the blanket tangled around your waist.
“The ministers are going to go crazy tomorrow…”
“They survive worse things.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “Such as?”
“My uncle’s tea lectures.”
You turned back, hiding your smile against the forearm draped over your chest.
“We abandoned our own engagement banquet.”
Zuko tightened his hold, pulling you securely against his chest.
“We escaped our engagement banquet,” he corrected. “Very successfully. Hope you learned something.”
“Ah. My apologies.”
“Accepted.”
His fingers found your hand, tracing over the ring resting on your finger again.
“What?” he murmured sleepily after a moment, noticing your silence.
“Nothing…”
His nose brushed against your shoulder. “Liar.”
“I was just thinking…” Your fingers intertwined with his. “I think we spent years making this far more difficult than it needed to be.”
He hummed. “Probably.”
“All that suffering,” you sighed dramatically. “For what?”
“To build character, clearly,” you could hear the smile in his voice, his comment pulling another tired laugh from you.
Sometime before dawn, sleep finally dragged both of you under completely. When you woke again, pale morning light had begun spilling softly through the pavilion windows.
The quiet weight of his arm was still anchored over your waist, anchoring you to the cushions. Zuko pulled you a fraction closer in his sleep, breathing softly against your neck like he had no intention of ever letting go again.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚
note: it’s been a while since these series! :’-) i just felt like writing it so i could do some smut, the (momentary!) lack of it in the whaletail island series is hurting me lol — this one can absolutely be read as a standalone, but if you’d like more of these two being emotionally repressed idiots in love, the other parts are there waiting for you. hope you enjoyed! Xx
